Fated for Love (14 page)

Cutter sat beside her and watched over them with an easy smile.

“How long have you worked at The Woodlands?” Callie asked.

He took off his hat and wiped his brow, squinting against the bright sun. “Few years.”

“Do you like it?”

His smile widened and his eyes lit up. “Every second of every day.” He drew in a deep breath and brought his focus back to Callie. “What about you? What do you do for a living?”

“I work in a library.” She watched his eyebrows lift in surprise. “Why does almost every person I meet have that same reaction?”

“You want the truth?”

She laughed. “Sure. That would be nice.”

“Because usually librarians are old fuddy-duddies, not...”

“They didn’t start out old. Maybe fuddy-duddy, but not old.” She was used to the generalization, and for whatever reason, it didn’t bother her. She had to admit, as she’d packed for this trip she’d been excited to wear something other than her work clothes. She wouldn’t call the clothes she wore to work fuddy-duddy, though. At least she hoped she leaned more toward proper and quietly sexy than fuddy-duddy. “I feel as lucky as you do.”

Callie remembered the look Wes had given Cutter earlier that morning, and she wondered if it was because of the way Cutter had been eyeing her or if there was some other rift between them. She didn’t know where her courage came from, but she sat up a little straighter and asked, “Do you like working with Wes?”

Cutter looked down at the baby goat she’d been feeding. “I can’t imagine ever working for anyone else. He’s honest and fair handed.” He met her gaze. “He’s a great boss. A good man.”

A good man
. She’d had that sense the minute she met him a month ago. Obviously, there wasn’t any bad blood between Cutter and Wes, which could only mean that the look she’d seen was Wes staking claim to her. She recognized the fortitude it took for Cutter to refrain from using her question as a chance to belittle Wes and make himself look good. She respected that and she wondered if Wes knew that Cutter held him in such high regard.

“See you got sidetracked.”

Wes’s deep voice drew both Callie and Cutter’s attention toward the gate, where Wes stood in a Woodlands shirt and a pair of jeans that rode low on his hips and tight across his muscular thighs. His dark eyes ran between Callie and Cutter, and she realized they were still sitting side by side.

The air grew tense under Wes’s gaze, and Callie knew she was the cause. She glanced at Bonnie, who was clicking pictures again.
Of course
. Kathie gave her an
oh-shit
, wide-eyed look.

Callie handed the bottle to Cutter. “Thanks for letting us feed them. They’re so sweet.” She took a step toward Wes. “Sorry. But look at these babies. How could we pass by without petting them?”

Wes opened the gate. “Stay,” he said to Sweets before shutting the gate. Sweets wagged her tail and obediently remained on the other side. “They are pretty damn cute.” He pet one of the babies. “I’m glad Cutter was here to let you in. Thanks, Cutter.”

Maybe she’d misread the tension between them. As the others returned the bottles to the barn, Wes slid a possessive hand to Callie’s lower back.

Nope. I didn’t misread you, and I kind of like it
.

She felt a little guilty for enjoying the silent male one-upmanship.

AT THE SHOOTING range, Wes had a hard time pulling free from the jealousy that gripped him at the sight of Callie sitting shoulder to shoulder with Cutter. It was stupid, and he knew it. He wasn’t a jealous guy. Hell, he’d dated women who were dating other men at the same time they were seeing him, and he’d never given a rat’s ass. But the minute he’d seen Callie with Cutter, his gut fisted and his chest tightened. What made it worse was that he’d seen a flash of recognition in Callie’s eyes, and he hated that he was weak enough to feel jealous in the first place, much less be so struck by it that Callie had recognized it, too. He tried to push the ugly emotion aside, but as he gave the girls a lesson on gun safety, he realized that he was having a hard time meeting Callie’s beautiful eyes.

He handed each of them a rifle. “Even though these are not loaded, remember never to aim them at anyone. We’re just going to practice tracking shots first.”

“Are you sure you guys don’t want to learn to rope cattle instead of shooting skeet?” Callie held the gun as far as she could from her body with the barrel pointed toward the sky.

Kathie held the butt of the gun against her shoulder and pointed the barrel up. “Are you kidding me? To be able to go home and tell Paul that I can shoot? That’s priceless.”

Christine tossed her visor to the ground and handled the gun like she’d been doing it her whole life. “I don’t understand the thrill of shooting a piece of clay. Now, if it were my last boyfriend, I could get behind that one hundred percent.”

“No shooting ex-boyfriends.”
Christ Almighty
.

Bonnie shouldered her rifle. “Sorry to tell you this, Kath, but I doubt your accountant or my lawyer husband will be too impressed by this.”

Wes taught them the correct grip and showed them how to move the gun in an arc to track the shot.

“The targets move fast. Even experienced shooters have to develop some muscle memory in order to hit them. This is not an easy thing to do, and it’s more about the mechanics of following the skeet and shooting ahead of the target than it is about aim, so don’t be surprised if you don’t hit any.” Once the others had the hang of holding the rifle, he went to help Callie.

She nibbled on her lower lip and held the gun with a rigid grip. She looked at the gun like it might explode at any second. He stifled the urge to take the gun out of her hands and hold her. Jesus. He needed to get a handle on his emotions. He was supposed to be helping her, not falling for her. He forced himself to concentrate on his job rather than his heart.

“Here. Let me show you.” He stood behind Callie and helped her lift the rifle. One breath of her sweet scent quickened his pulse.

“Like this?” She held the butt of the gun to her shoulder. She was leaning forward too far, and her ass pressed against his crotch.

Not that Wes minded, but he was still struggling with jealousy and having a hard time thinking straight. What if he’d totally misread Callie and she was interested in Cutter? Even a little? Who was he to assume she’d see only him? Shit. He hadn’t even realized he was thinking about that until just now. That was exactly it. He
wanted
her to see only him. He
did
give a shit. And, by God, he wanted to see only her.

How the hell did he get here so fast?

Callie’s eyes narrowed, intent on aiming the rifle that looked out of place in her delicate hands, and his heart opened even more. Yeah, he wanted her.
Only her
. And he had no idea how to get from here to there. He was practiced at avoiding monogamy, not asking for it.

“Wes?” Callie looked to him for direction.

“Sorry.”
Shit. Focus
. He tried to push away the jealousy and the realization of what he wanted and focus on doing his job.
Yeah, right
. He stepped back to relieve the pressure of her perfect ass from his crotch, which was rapidly swelling with desire.

“Bend your front leg a little, and place your weight on your front foot.”

She adjusted her footing.

“Good. Perfect.” Unable to stay away, he stepped in closer again—telling himself he had to in order to position the gun correctly. He pressed his cheek to hers and settled one hand on the curve of her hip. “Keep the gun in tight. Good. Perfect.”

“Really? Yay.”

She was too damn cute. “Okay, good. Now tell me you’ll only date me.”
Holy shit. Where the fuck did that come from?

“Okay. Wait. What?” She shifted confused eyes to him, still holding the gun in place.

He gulped a deep breath. His nerves pinged throughout his body like electrical shocks. He felt like a teenager asking her to go steady, only this was so much bigger. He held his breath, and out of his peripheral vision, he noticed Bonnie had set down her gun and begun taking pictures of them.
Great
. He couldn’t deal with that right now. He had to finish what he’d started.

Callie turned toward him with the butt of the gun at her shoulder, the nose lowered to his thigh. He shifted the gun away with his hand.

“Wes?” she whispered.

“I realize that this isn’t the time or place to say that, and I’m sorry. I have no idea how it slipped out. The last thing I want to do is pressure you.” He lowered his voice, unable—or maybe unwilling—to stop what he’d started. “I saw you with Cutter and…Callie, I’ve never been jealous, but…” He glanced at her friends, who were now thankfully talking among themselves, which meant he was doing a shit job of leading the group.
Christ
.

He drew his attention back to Callie. “You saw it. I know you did, and I’m not proud of that. Cutter’s a great guy, and if you’re interested in him, I’ll back off, but I really like you, and I’d like to see only you. And if you’re interested, then I’d like it if you’d see only me.”

Holy shit. He couldn’t believe he was asking her to see only him. Was that even how it was done? He had no idea.

Callie placed her dainty hand on his forearm—damn, she felt good—and she smiled up at him. “I’d like that.”

He let out a loud breath and nearly lost his balance as he dodged the barrel of her rifle. He slipped it from her grasp and wrapped her in his arms—right there in front of her friends and Bonnie’s big-ass camera lens. He felt like doing a fist pump and exclaiming,
Yes!
Even though his heart was galloping at full speed, he somehow managed to keep his cool. He drew back and couldn’t help but kiss her quickly.

“Okay?” He didn’t know what else to say.
Thank you? I’m the luckiest guy on earth? I want to kiss you again?

She nodded with a wide smile that lit up her eyes and told him everything he needed to know.

“I feel like I just captured a big moment on film,” Bonnie called.

“You did,” Callie yelled back.

“Care to share?” Kathie asked.

Callie flushed pink.

“You would get a straighter answer from a corkscrew,” Christine hollered.

Wes was sidetracked for a few minutes while he reveled in the thrill of their new relationship status. He realized the group was waiting on him and forced himself to focus on the activity at hand.

“Ready to shoot some skeet?” He went over the directions again and made sure they were each comfortable with the movements and positioning before he loaded the guns.

“Can I go first?” Callie stood with her shoulders back and one hand on her hip.

“Whoa. What did you do, Wes? Inject her with confidence? You get that, Bon?” Christine hollered again.

Huh. Now, there’s a thought
. Callie did look and sound more confident.

“On it.” Bonnie set down her gun and lifted her camera.

“You sure, Callie?” Wes saw a glint in her eyes that hadn’t been there before and instinctively knew that she was as thrilled as he was with their decision.

“I’m not sure. I think I can do this, and I promised I would try.” She lifted the gun to her shoulder. “What am I supposed to yell again?”

“Pull.” Wes reminded her. He sidled up to Bonnie and lowered his voice. “Can you get a few close-ups for me?”

“Absolutely.” She focused her camera.

“Remember, the gun has a kick to it, and whatever you do, don’t drop it. Ready when you are, Cal.” He expected her arms to tremble and her stance to falter, but Callie stood with her weight perfectly distributed, her hands positioned firmly in place. With his thumb on the remote control, Wes watched Callie draw in a deep breath and waited for her to say
pull
. And waited.

He was about to ask her if she wanted someone else to go first when she finally said, “Pull.”

The skeet went up, and Callie shot—amazingly without shutting her eyes or dropping the gun when she pulled the trigger—and hit the target.

“Holy shit.”

Callie screamed and jumped up and down, waving the gun. “Oh my gosh! I did it! Did you see that?”

Kathie and Christine cheered and ran to Callie while Bonnie took pictures. Sweets barked at their excitement.

“I had no idea you were a relative of Annie Oakley. Damn, girl.” Christine looked up at the sky.

Callie swung around with the gun at hip level. Wes snagged it before she shot someone. He didn’t want to interrupt Callie’s celebration with her friends. He refrained from swooping her into his arms for a congratulatory kiss.

“Get in there, Bon,” he said. “I’ll take the pictures.” Seeing the pride in Callie’s eyes made his heart swell. He captured beautiful images of Callie and her friends laughing and squealing so loudly that Sweets howled.

When he lowered the camera, his eyes caught Callie’s for a beat, no longer than a breath, and the feeling it birthed inside of him was unlike anything he’d ever felt before, like he—
they
—were on the cusp of something new and exciting. A beginning. Their beginning.

Our beginning
.

WES HEADED DOWN to the barbecue pit for lunch before meeting up with Callie for her private riding lesson.

“How’s it going, boss?” Butch filled a bun with pulled pork and set it on Wes’s plate beside a mound of vegetables. He slid his pointy-toed boots to the side, making room for Sweets to lie at his feet. He smiled at the pup and tossed a hunk of meat to her, then wiped his hand on a rag that hung from the pocket of his jeans.

“Can’t complain. How did the cattle run go?” Butch and two other ranch hands had driven the cattle up the mountain to a new grazing spot earlier in the day.

“You know, long ride up, short ride down.” He made himself a sandwich and joined Wes at a picnic table. The sun glared off of his bald head. He gazed out at the mountains as he spoke with a slow drawl. “Heard you’re giving a riding lesson this afternoon before you take off for camp.” Camp, or what they sometimes referred to as backcountry, was a level spot near the river where they set up tents for overnight pioneering adventures like the one he was taking Callie and her friends on later that day.