Authors: Darah Lace
BuckingHard (2 page)
But over the last few months, she’d almost dreaded the idea
of coming home and settling down, which made the job offer to intern with the
PRCA more enticing. The professional rodeo circuit was never in one spot for
long, offered a variety of experience, and was nowhere near Mason.
“You going to the party?”
Bradi shrugged, suddenly more depressed than horny. “I’m
supposed to help decorate later, but I don’t feel much like sticking around.”
The ranching community was widespread but tight-knit.
Everyone knew everyone and the party would probably be fun, but Bradi couldn’t
think past the man in front of her and what he’d say when she finally worked up
the nerve to spill her guts.
“Mom said Catie went a little overboard with this shindig. I
think she’s excited to see her brother finally find someone. And Lindsey being
her best friend…” Just the thought of seeing Clay with Lindsey and Catie with
her husband and all the other happy couples made Bradi want to throw up. But
Catie was depending on her.
More likely Bradi was next on Catie’s list and would be the
victim of some matchmaking scheme. She snorted and adjusted her weight. Just
what she needed.
“Will you be still?” Mason leaned forward. “And scoot back.
There’s only room in this saddle for one. ”
Cheeks flaming, Bradi sat up straight and grabbed the cantle
again. Moisture pricked her eyelids. It wasn’t the first time he’d rejected her
touch, but she couldn’t hold back the irrational anger that instinctively
surfaced to cover her embarrassment and hurt. “Geez, sorry. I didn’t mean to be
such a burden.”
“You’re not— I’m just— Hell, let’s just get home.” Mason
kicked Rocky into a swift trot.
Bradi tightened her legs around the horse and her grip on
the cantle as Rocky’s stride lengthened into a gallop. Wind whipped her hair
from her ponytail and into her eyes, but hell would freeze over before she used
him as a shield. That would involve touching him again.
The ranch house came into view and a minute later Rocky
slowed to a trot. The second the horse stopped in front of the barn, Bradi
launched herself off his back and headed for the house. She’d have to call her
dad to come get her. Her mom was at the beauty shop.
Before she could take two steps, strong fingers clamped
around her arm and swung her around. “Bradi, wait.”
She tried to squirm free but he latched on to both arms. Her
eyes welled up. God, she hated to cry. Tears were a weakness, and she refused
to let anyone see her that way, especially Mason. “Don’t worry. I won’t bother
you again.”
Mason backed her up, sandwiching her between Rocky and his
tall, hard body. “I’m sorry. It’s just hot outside and I’m not… Shit, are you
crying?”
“Hell, no, I’m not crying.” She wrenched one arm free to rub
her face. “My hair blew in my eyes.”
“Look at me.” He hooked his fingers under her chin to tip
her face up. Eyes the color of maple syrup studied her face. She jerked her
head to one side and looked away, then trembled as one finger stroked her jaw.
“Wind doesn’t make your nose run.”
His tenderness deflated her anger and brought more tears to
her eyes. She sniffed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to get all emotional. I have a lot
on my mind.”
“And I’m an ass.”
Her lower lip trembled as she tried to form a smile. “Won’t
argue that.”
The chuckle she’d hoped for didn’t come, and if possible,
his scowl deepened. His thumb grazed the corner of her mouth. “Bradi, I’ve been
thinking—”
Behind him, the sound of wheels on gravel drew their
attention. Sun glinted off the windshield of a silver Lexus and Bradi’s heart
sank.
Mason glanced over his shoulder. “Shit.”
He stepped back as Cal Wilson, gray, weathered and
bowlegged, ambled from the barn. Heath Jordan was right on his heels, his youth
and agility evident in his cocky swagger. All three men watched the door of the
vehicle open and a pair of long, bare legs unfold from the front seat. Deidre
Latham stood, tall and sleek, dressed in a strapless turquoise sundress and
silver high-heeled sandals. She leaned against the car and raised a slender
arm, bracelets sparkling, to brush a lock of hair from her face.
It was like watching a beer commercial. She had that perfect
model look. A look Bradi couldn’t compete with on her best day. She heaved a
defeated sigh. “That’s my cue to go.”
Mason looked down at Bradi and she wanted to crawl under a
rock. Compared to Deidre, she probably looked as if she’d just come from under
one. “Give me five minutes and we’ll go up to the house and talk.”
“She’ll want more than five minutes.” Bradi stepped around
him. “Can one of you guys give me a ride?”
Heath dragged his gaze from Deidre and smiled. “I’m headed
to town. I can drop you off.”
Cal shuffled to grab Rocky’s reins. “I’ll take him, boss.”
Mason looked torn, and if it hadn’t hurt so bad, Bradi might
have laughed. But her stomach rolled, her heart pitched and her throat
tightened. He took a step in her direction. “I thought you wanted to talk.”
She glanced from Mason to Deidre and back again. Her eyelids
burned as she shook her head. “That’s okay, Mason. I know what I need to do.”
She turned away and jogged after Heath. Opening the door to his pickup, she
wiped her face to make sure it was dry and jumped in. “Thanks for the ride.”
“No problem.” He grabbed the keys from the visor and shoved
them into the ignition. “Hey, are you going to the party tonight?”
She shook her head. “Mmm, I don’t think so.”
“That’s too bad. I thought you might save me a dance.”
Bradi tilted a feeble smile at Heath then looked out the
window. He put the truck in gear, backed up, then shot forward. Mason’s gaze
lifted as they approached and Deidre laid a hand on his chest. Except for the
irritated expression on his face when they passed, Bradi had to admit they made
a beautiful couple.
Swallowing hard, Bradi pivoted in the seat to face Heath.
Nothing like Mason’s brooding dark looks, Heath’s blond charm had stolen many a
girl’s heart. Bradi shook her head. “I’m sure your dance card is already full
up.”
“Nah, I always have room for a sweet thing like you.”
A chuckle bubbled from somewhere inside her, probably
bordering on one of those hysterical laughing fits that ended in an emotional
breakdown of uncontrolled sobbing. She had to get her mind off Mason before she
made a fool of herself. “Are you flirting with me, Heath Jordan?”
His gaze roamed down her body and back up, pausing at her
chest then rising to her face. His eyes seemed alive with surprise. “I think I
just might be, Bradi Kincaid.”
With a glance in the side mirror, she watched the man she
loved slowly disappear from sight. He’d made the choice for her and, hard as it
was, she had to let him go. She had to move on for real this time. No looking
back.
“So what do you say? You gonna break my heart?”
Bradi laid her head back against the window and studied
Heath’s lean body. He wasn’t as broad in the shoulder as Mason, but he was just
as tall and strong. He had good hands, and unless she was mistaken about the
bulge behind his fly, a nice package too.
Perhaps she should go to the party. Flirt a little, dance a
lot, and—she looked into Heath’s twinkling eyes—maybe she’d even get laid.
The first step in getting over Mason Montgomery.
Chapter Two
The Lucky Draw was packed and the perfect place to celebrate
Clay Talbot and Lindsey Baker’s engagement. The bar was owned by Lindsey’s
father, and she’d come home ten months ago to help him run it. She’d also given
it a major overhaul.
“The place looks great.” Bradi linked her arm through
Lindsey’s and leaned into her. Lindsey grabbed Clay to keep from being knocked
off her barstool. “’Course, I don’t think I ever saw it before. But everyone’s
talking about it.”
By the time Bradi was old enough to gain entrance to the
bar, she’d stopped coming home. Not that she would have anyway. She had no
desire to watch Mason flirt with other women, knowing they’d end up in his bed
and she’d go home to cold sheets.
But not tonight.
Damn it, she would not leave this bar without a man to heat
up her sheets. Well, not
her
sheets. She couldn’t very well take him
home and screw his brains out with her parents in the next room. Maybe sheets
were optional. And who said a bed was necessary?
Bradi winked and waggled her fingers at Heath as he bent
over the pool table to make a shot. Definitely not a silk sheet kind of guy.
The bed of his pickup might have to do. A hiccup passed her lips and she
giggled.
Lindsey shouldered Bradi upright and steadied her. “You
better slow down there, girlfriend.”
“I’ve only had,” she counted on her fingers, “one,
two…three…”
Clay chuckled as he scooted closer to Lindsey to hold both
women upright. “You’re really knockin’ ’em back.”
“Just trying to have a good time.” Bradi knew she was making
a fool of herself, but dammit she
was
having a good time. As long as she
stayed on the opposite side of the bar from Mason, she did just fine. And she’d
managed so far.
Ignoring the voice in her head that warned against reckless
behavior, she leaned around Lindsey and Clay to grin at Evan McNamara, Clay’s
friend from Houston. He was a successful lawyer—or so she’d heard—and looked as
if he’d be a good lay, which was all that mattered. “I don’t know you, but you
look like you’re a good time.”
Beer spewed from Lindsey’s mouth and Clay slapped her back.
Bradi grabbed a handful of napkins off the bar and clumsily
patted the front of Lindsey’s dress. “Something I said?”
Taking the wad of paper from her, Lindsey dabbed at the silk
and coughed. “Drink went down the wrong way.”
The glint of amusement in Clay’s eyes told Bradi different,
but she didn’t argue. Probably one of those inside jokes between lovers she’d
never understand.
Shrugging, Bradi had one ass cheek on the stool behind her
when she caught sight of Mason’s hot, sexy body heading their way. All thought
for anything except escape was sucked from her brain. Jolting back to her feet,
she teetered precariously around the happy couple and grabbed hold of Evan’s
hand. Tugging him off his perch, she swayed into him. “Care to show me a good
time on the dance floor?”
It was the only place, other than the ladies’ room, Mason
wouldn’t venture. He hated to dance. Not that he’d been following her. He just
seemed to keep showing up everywhere she went. One of the problems with having
the same friends.
Evan’s blue eyes peered over her shoulder then returned to
lock on hers. “I’m better than good, darlin’.” He smiled, lifted their clasped
hands above her head, and spun her to face the dance floor. Mason stood a foot
away, his beautiful, brooding face dark with disapproval.
Evan’s hand at her waist nudged her around him. “Excuse us.”
Mason hesitated then stepped aside, and Bradi passed him
without looking up. Her chest hurt and moisture burned her eyes.
No.
She
would not cry. He had no right to disapprove. She had needs just like he did.
Just because he didn’t want her…
Pasting a smile on her face, she stepped onto the floor and
into Evan’s arms as the provocative notes of a popular R&B tune filled the
air. He pulled her close, one hand holding hers, the other at the small of her
back. His warm palm met bare skin, reminding her of the choices she’d made
today.
She wore her best slut dress, a filmy black number with a
halter top, a belted waist and a hem that barely reached mid thigh. She’d only
worn it once and remembered well the effect it had on men. It and the
four-inch, kickass stilettos. God, those had taken a while to get used to after
wearing boots from the time she could walk.
“So who’s the guy?” Evan’s voice rumbled against her ear.
“What guy?” Bradi tipped her head back to look up at Evan.
Blond hair, blue eyes, kissable lips. His body was long, lean and sexy.
Definitely hot, and a potential one-night stand if she ever saw one.
But the flutter in her belly wasn’t there. It hadn’t been
there when she danced with Heath either. For that matter, none of the men she’d
flirted with tonight did it for her.
You can still go through the motions.
Scratch the itch. Fill the emptiness.
“I don’t mind helping make someone jealous,” he looked at
her pointedly, “but at least tell me who I’m performing for.”
Blinking, Bradi stared at him a moment, then snorted. “I’m
not trying to make anyone jealous.”
“Is it Mason?”
The idea bounced from silly to downright ridiculous. As if
it were even possible. “Mason and I are just friends.”
“He might think so, but that’s not how you look at him.”
Damn, was she that obvious? If Evan had figured out her
secret after only a few hours, everyone in the bar had to know. For that
matter, everyone in town. Which would mean Mason… Was that why he’d been
avoiding her? He knew and didn’t want hurt her feelings?
She stumbled. “Oh god.”
“Are you okay? Let’s go sit—”
“No, I’m fine.”
I’m not fine. I’ll never be fine again.
How would she ever face him?
“Hang on.” Evan steered her to the middle of the floor and
slowed their pace to a near standstill. The hand holding hers let go and he
wrapped both arms around her, drawing her closer. “Breathe.”
She slumped against him, accepting his support and the
comfort of his warmth. “How can I be so pathetic?”
One hand skimmed up her back to her shoulders and his
fingers sifted through her hair, massaging her neck. “Love is never pathetic.”
“Sure feels like it.”
The hand at the base of her spine tightened and he wedged a
knee between hers until she practically rode his thigh. Through the thin
barrier of their clothing, her nipples poked his chest. It occurred to her that
she should be panting. To anyone looking on, they were practically humping on
the dance floor. Her panties were a tad moist, a natural reaction to physical
stimulation, but there was no spark. It was all an act. One she should be
grateful for if it fooled Mason into thinking she wasn’t as hung up on him as
he might think.