Pushin' Buttons (Boot Knockers) (21 page)

“That’s not— Goddammit, you better shut up.”

“You could be in that bed with her right now. With
us.
” Riggs’s eyes burned with want.

Hugh’s muscles tightened, but he didn’t lash out. God, he wanted to. Instead he got in Riggs’s face and pitched his voice low. “When this is over, she’ll go home to Atlanta, but you’ll still be here. With
me
.” He couldn’t voice his feelings—that he was walking away from Sibyll because he couldn’t handle it. But if he didn’t have her, Riggs couldn’t either.

Riggs pulled away from the wall. “Meaning?”

“You really want to put that kind of a wedge between us? Maybe you’d better walk away from her too, Archer.”

A pained look crossed his features. He bowed his head. Hugh stepped back, assured his message spoke loud and clear. He didn’t want Riggs with her—couldn’t bear thinking of the pair together without him. It wasn’t right, and their reputation in Sibyll’s eyes would be blackened. But it was for the best.

“That’s what I thought.” Hugh bent and gathered the dropped files. Before he’d finished, Riggs had slinked off into the darkness in the opposite direction from Bungalow 9.

Sibyll hooked her purse over her shoulder and picked up her suitcase. Riggs had gone to “talk to” Hugh and never returned. After waiting the rest of the night and morning, she’d packed her things and had Holly call for a cab.

Holly had personally come to the bungalow, apologized for the behavior of the cowboys and offered her another cowboy for her last day on the ranch. But Sibyll didn’t want another cowboy.

Finally Holly had offered her a discounted week later in the year, which Sibyll also declined. She didn’t want to ever come back.

So Holly had assured her that she’d give her a partial refund. Sibyll couldn’t care less about the money—it was her heart she didn’t know whether or not could be repaired.

A pickup sat outside her bungalow. Sibyll closed the door on one of the best—and worst—chapters of her life. A cowboy leaned against the blue metal and tipped his hat. It was Paul, the ranch hand Riggs had fought with. He jumped forward to take her suitcase. She allowed him, and he stowed it in the bed.

“I’m your driver.”

“I thought I’d get a cab.”

“Nah. Not when there are plenty of guys willing to have a pretty lady next to them.”

He opened the door for her, and she slid into the truck with a murmured, “Thank you.” The last thing she wanted was more male attention. Her emotions were already jumbled, and fending off another cowboy made her stomach churn.

When he started the engine, she stared at her hands clenched in her lap. She couldn’t look at the quaint bungalow that held so many good memories. The entire ranch made her ache for more.

With Hugh
and
Riggs. It was crazy. After only a few days she’d been ready to toss away her entire life if they’d wanted her. But they didn’t—they’d thrown her away instead.

Paul guided the truck down the long gravel drive. “You sure you want to go early? You’re paid up.”

“Yes.”

“The customer is always right.” He trundled down a winding road that would lead to the main highway. On her way here, she’d practically bounced with excitement when they’d hit the back road. Now it couldn’t be short enough. She just wanted out of Texas.

How stupid she’d been. Coming here had given her the end she’d sought—she’d come over and over again. She was no longer “broken.” But something else had cracked in the process. She should have realized how emotional an orgasm really was. Her tie to those men who had given pleasure was a tight knot she couldn’t unravel.

Her stomach ached, and she wrapped her arms around her middle.

Paul pointed to a few horses galloping free on the horizon. “Look at those beauties.”

She nodded, aware of how gorgeous and powerful the animals were, but hating everything that had to do with the ranch at the moment. Especially since discussing the horse business with Riggs. At that moment he’d charmed her into wanting the same thing he did—and Hugh did.

By the time she reached the airport, her throat burned with unshed tears. She’d spoken little to Paul during the drive, and after a few miles he’d stopped trying. When he removed her suitcase from the bed, he insisted on wheeling it in for her. Once she stood in line to get through airport security, he shook her hand and wished her luck.

In zombie-mode, Sibyll boarded the flight to Atlanta. It was jammed with passengers, and she had a horrid seat in the back overlooking the engine, so she wasn’t even able to see the last bit of Texas sky.

She fastened her seatbelt and her tears began to drop. Slow trickles at first, falling faster and growing noisier until the passenger beside her offered her a kind word and the tissues from her purse.

Sibyll accepted them with a sniveling reply of thanks. Mopping at her nose and eyes soon became impossible, so she just buried her head in her hands and cried.

A flight attendant fetched her a drink. The man in the aisle seat offered a bottle of over-the-counter pain relievers. Sibyll took two but her headache wouldn’t let up. Neither would her tears or the tremor in her core.

How had she grown so attached to Hugh and Riggs? She didn’t even know them very well.

Even as she thought this, she realized it was a lie. She knew the important things—they were good men who’d showed her more care than anyone else in her life. And it seemed unusual. The other women at the ranch had acted more like spring-breakers than lovesick Sibyll, which led her to believe the other cowboys hadn’t acted like Hugh and Riggs.

Her nose was raw and her heart bleeding. She rested her head against the seat and closed her eyes.

“You try to get some sleep, dear,” the woman beside her said softly.

But Sibyll’s tears fell the whole way across the country. On the ground again in Atlanta, she felt surreal. Lights bothered her and her nerves seemed exposed. She managed to get her luggage and grab a cab home.

All the way back to her lonely life she could only think of what might have been if Hugh and Riggs had really wanted her.

Chapter Twelve

As Riggs entered the grub house, his stomach was in knots. He’d purposely avoided going early, knowing he’d probably run into Sibyll. If he bumped into her now, he’d cave. Walking away from her after Hugh’s warning had been one of the hardest decisions of his life.

Choosing between them felt wrong to the marrow of his bones, because they took up equal real estate in his heart.

He scuttled across the room, headed straight for the coffee. He didn’t even raise his head until someone called his name.

Glancing up, he found at least six sets of eyes on him. His heart dropped. “What’s going on?”

“She left this morning, you know. Paul took her.”

Panic welled in his chest. He let the mug fall from his grasp. It hit the sideboard and cracked. The sound silenced the entire half-filled room.
She’s gone. Left early—because of me and Hugh. We’ve lost her.

Then on the heels of that:
She’s with Paul.

“Why the hell wouldn’t one of you come to get me? You just let her go and no one informed me?” He pinned down Booker, Jeremy, Finn and Elliot. None of them would meet his gaze now that he was on the verge of snapping.

He ripped his hat off, panting for control. His mind whirled. She left, was probably in the air by now. God, he’d never see her again. Even if he got in touch with her, she’d hate him for what he’d done.

Dammit, he’d been too weak to let go of a non-relationship with Hugh so he could have her.

He raked his fingers through his hair.

“What the hell’s going on?” Hugh boomed from the doorway.

Fury and love swirled in him like a Molotov cocktail. He met Hugh’s gaze, challenging, daring him to say a single thing to Riggs.

Hugh glanced around the room at the silent cowboys. “You all need hearing aids?”

Riggs raised his jaw, staring down the man he loved. “Paul took Sibyll to the airport.”

All the blood left Hugh’s face, leaving him pale. In a blink, it flooded back, mottling his skin red. He shook his head. “Why wasn’t I informed? Goddammit.” He yanked his cell from his back pocket and stabbed a button. Holly came on speaker. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me Sibyll left?”

A sigh. “For obvious reasons, Hugh. She was emotional. It was best to honor her wishes.”

Hugh growled. “That’s not how it works on this ranch, Holly!”

Her voice hardened. “You’re not a woman, Hugh. You have no freakin’ clue what that poor girl was feeling!”

“That’s not the point. I’m in charge. We all deserved to know.”

“If you’re in charge, start acting like it. Look at what’s going on around you.”

“Dammit—” He didn’t deserve to know anyway. He’d turned his back on them.

“Bye, Hugh.” The line went dead, and the screaming battle via speaker phone ended with a silence more profound than before.

“Did you know about this, Riggs?” Hugh grated out.

“No. I was told to stay out of Sibyll’s life.”

Hugh’s throat worked.

Riggs stared at the man he’d throw away everything for, and suddenly knew he should have given Sibyll the same treatment. “These feelings I have for you, Hugh, I’m going to declare them, right here for everyone to hear. But this is where they end, goddammit. I’m done.”

Everyone went dead still. Even the cook drifted from the kitchen to listen, big stainless steel bowl in the crook of her arm.

Hugh’s chest rose and fell as if he had just run the whole way to the airport after Sibyll.

Riggs looked from one face to the next—all friends, sometimes more. Who better to confess to? “I love this man.” He gestured toward Hugh, whose face was stone. “Yeah, I seek him out on our own time. I can’t fucking get enough of him. I’d leave the ranch, my friends and everything I love to have him. But he doesn’t want me. So I’m finished humping that dead horse.”

He glanced at Hugh, only to find his jaw slack. Now that Riggs’s heart was purged, he could move on.

Riggs crossed the room and passed Hugh. Pain stabbed Hugh, making his fingers tingle. He stared at Riggs’s dark hair and the way he cradled his hat as if it was a kicked puppy.

Was he going to let someone else he cared for walk away?

“Wait.”

The word hung in the air, loaded. Riggs’s response would set off the trigger, shooting Hugh down or opening that chasm and allowing Hugh to jump through.

Riggs paused, spine stiff.

Hugh reached for him. It took forever for his hand to meet muscle and bone. He clamped his fingers around Riggs’s shoulder and swung him.

Riggs came easily. Their gazes locked.

“I fucking love you too,” Hugh growled. He yanked him against his body and claimed his mouth.

When Riggs opened to him, Hugh swept his mouth with his tongue. A cheer erupted from behind them. Riggs’s lips spread in a smile, and Hugh echoed it. Wrapping an arm around his shoulders, he hurled them both through the door. Then he grabbed Riggs’s hand and led him at a clipped pace to the bunkhouse.

Inside, he tugged him past the line of beds and to the small space where he could get him alone. The resistance he’d known for so long since his breakup with Travis crumbled, leaving only love.

He tossed a look over his shoulder. Riggs looked stunned, but a new light of hope shone in his eyes. Hugh gestured for him to go in. The door was barely shut behind them, and they were grappling—stripping clothes, sharing bruising kisses.

Riggs’s hand on Hugh’s nape felt like coming home. He angled his head and plunged his tongue deep. Dark pressure built in his groin and spread through his body, capturing his heart.

“I want you,” he groaned, chasing Riggs’s tongue around his mouth. When he caught it, he sucked. Riggs moaned in answer.

Hugh walked him back until they fell into bed. The frame creaked under their combined weight. When Hugh covered him from head to foot with his own body, their gazes met.

A soft sound broke from Hugh. “It was never your fault, Archer. I was burnt once, and I was afraid to jump into another fire.”

Riggs kneaded his spine, making Hugh relax further. “Who?”

“His name was Travis. He drew me in then when he went to boot camp, he lost interest.”

“A hard blow.”

Hugh riveted on Riggs’s wide mouth, imagining all the dirty things he’d do with it. “It was, and it screwed me up for a long time. But I think…” he nipped Riggs’s lower lip “…I’m ready to try again.”

Riggs let his eyes slip closed. “Think?”

“I know.” Riggs opened his eyes and they shared a smile that seemed to part the clouds hanging over them this whole week.

Hugh licked a path over Riggs’s lower lip. “And dammit, there’s more. I need Sibyll in my life too. I’m not willing to let her go.”

“We already did.” Remorse clogged his voice.

Hugh rested his forehead against his lover’s, breathing hard around his own pain. “I know. But we’re going to get her back. If you’re willing.”