The Wild Ones (8 page)

But obviously not the furthest thing from Trick’s.  His smile fades and his face sinks into a frown.  He backs away from me just before we hear Rusty’s voice getting closer. 

Trick walks back to the door and I rejoin Jenna.  When I stop by her side, she turns to look at me.  I know we’re both thinking the same thing. 

CHAPTER SIXTEEN- Trick

“I don’t even need to ask who that was,” Rusty declares as we watch Cami and her friends drive away.  “She’s pretty hot.”

I throw him an incredulous look.  “’Pretty hot’?”

Rusty shrugs.  “Yeah. She’s pretty hot.  But her friend…damn!”

“Yeah, what’s up with that?  Could you be a little more obvious?”

“What?  I barely looked at her!”

“Dude, you needed a freakin’ bib!  You all but drooled all over yourself. I’m surprised her boyfriend didn’t kick your ass.”

Rus snickers.  “Like that could’ve happened.”

Rusty has always been scrappy. He’s a big guy now, but that hasn’t always been the case.  Even when he wasn’t, he was not the kind of guy you wanted to mess with.  You just didn’t.  Still don’t.  Unless you’re me, of course.  We’ve been in our share of drunken brawls with each other.  I think we’ve both won a few and lost a few.

“Missing the point, man.”

“I got this, Trick. Calm down.  Holy balls!  You’re worse than my mom.”

I drag my fingers through my hair.  “Sorry, Rus.  I don’t know what’s wrong with me lately.”

“You put too much pressure on yourself, bro.  You’ve got some kind of hero complex, thinking you gotta save everybody.”

“Feeling responsible for my family does not mean I have a hero complex.”

“But it’s more than just that.  It’s like you think if you can save enough people, it’ll change things.  Or change you somehow.  Make you feel less guilty.”

“Nothing can make me feel less guilty.”

“Trick, it wasn’t your fault!  How many times do you have to hear that before it sinks in?”

I laugh bitterly.  “Apparently a few more, because this is only making me mad.”

“You and that temper.  Why is it that you’ve learned to hide it from everyone but me?”

“No one else makes quite as good a punching bag as you.”

“Oh, so that’s how it’s gonna be.  You wanna go a round, Ace?”

Rusty starts dancing around, shadow boxing like some sort of prize fighter who’s just entered the ring.  It gets even better when he starts humming the Rocky tune.

I can’t help but laugh at him.  More often than not, he’s just what I need.  

“Bring it, Firecracker.”  I stand up and hold out my hands. Rusty taps each palm with quick jabs and then smacks me upside the head.

“Oh-ho-ho!” I say.  “Enjoy that one, ‘cause it’s the only time those hands are gonna touch me.”

Despite my 6’2” frame, I’m agile. Always have been.  Quick and light on my feet.  I bounce around him a little and then, BAM!  I land a solid slap to his right cheek. 

Rusty’s eyes flash.  His temper is much easier stirred than mine, but it burns out quickly.  Unlike mine.  I’ve learned to control my temper, but once it’s fired up…well, let’s just say the blast radius is usually pretty wide and devastating.

Rusty reaches out with his left hand. I dodge it and tap his ribs with my fingertips.  He comes in next with two lightning fast right jabs.  I dip to the side and avoid both then pop up and brush his chin.

“Looks like rusty is more than just a name for you,” I tease, knowing I’m pushing my luck.

Much to my surprise, Rusty stops, drops his hands to his sides and smiles at me.  “You’re not gonna get to me, Trick.  Not this time.  I’d rather break open that bottle of Patron over there and think about the hot chick I just met.”

I relax as well.  “That
does
sound like a lot more fun, doesn’t it?”

I move over to Rusty and, just as I’m getting close, he sucker punches me in the stomach.  It’s not hard enough to really hurt, but it’s hard enough to knock the wind out of me for just a second.

“You’re such a dick,” I sputter. 

With a laugh, Rus slaps me on the back and leads the way to his stash of my favorite tequila.

********

The door creaks as it opens.  I crack an eyelid to look around.  My brain hurts.  I think it’s actually dizzy.  And trying to differentiate drunken dream from sobering sunshine is not helping. 

My head clears a little and I open my eyes all the way to glance at my bedside clock. 

It’s already 7:00?  Damn!

I hear soft footsteps as Grace sneaks up to the bed.  I guess waking up before me twice in one week is like pure heaven for her.

Even though I’d rather go back to sleep, I should technically already be gone, heading to work.  Regardless of either, I wait patiently for her to get closer.

When I see her feet come into view, I reach out and tickle her stomach.  Me scaring her makes her happy, so yeah, I make a big roar for added effect.

She squeals in delight and takes off. 

Mission accomplished.

“Mom says your phone’s been ringing,” she says from the doorway, a nice safe distance from my reach. She’s still smiling.

I look on the bedside table and, sure enough, my phone’s not there. 

Must’ve dropped it on my way in last night.

I sit up and realize that my headache has a headache.  I groan, genuinely this time, and Grace runs off screaming.  Painfully, it echoes around in my skull.

Note to self: don’t make her scream after half a bottle of Patron.

Before I even make it to the bathroom, I see pink slippered feet appear.  I squint up at Mom.  She doesn’t look happy.  I can almost see the lecture hanging around her tight lips.

Thank God, she saves it for later.

“Your boss called.  Four times.  Something has come up.  He wants you to plan on being around the stable tonight and maybe for the rest of the week.”

Great!  Not just any day with a hangover, but a
long
day.  Working with horses.  Riding them.  I’m an idiot.

“I hear ya.  I’m getting up.”

She shakes her head at me.

“Son, I just…”

“I know, Mom.  I’m fine.  Just a bad day yesterday.”

“And drinking didn’t change that, now did it?”

Good point.

Without another word, she turns and walks away, leaving me to get ready for the longest, most uncomfortable day of my life.  I head straight for the Tylenol.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN- Cami

Even though it’s what I said I wanted, I’m bored looking at the books for the business and the bloodlines of our horses.  I really do want to learn it, but today my focus is elsewhere. 

I’ve been at it all afternoon, trying my best to stay away from the stables.  It hasn’t been easy. Yes, partly because I’ve always loved my early morning rides, but mostly…well… 

Not again!  Dammit, Trick!  Why are you so… ugh!

I can’t even finish that thought. I don’t know how to describe him really.  He’s charming for sure.  He’s funny and witty.  He’s obviously intelligent.  He must be good with horses.  He’s apparently dedicated to his job.  He seems like a good friend.  Evidently he can box.  Or maybe he’s just been in a lot of fights.  And he’s definitely hot.  Whew!  Like hotter than the ninth ring of hell hot. 

I think of those smoky eyes and that sexy smile.  I feel steamy and realize I actually get all flushed just
thinking
about him. 

Ridiculous!

None of those words adequately describe Trick, though. I’ve met guys before who are all those things and none of them have had such an effect on me.  Not one.

I lean back in Daddy’s chair and prop my feet on the desk.  I give in to the urge to think about Trick.  Fully.  Intently.  Just for a minute. 

Trick is different.  He’s hard to pigeon hole.  And what makes him so unique is not so much a blatant, identifiable characteristic, like hot or funny.  It’s more like a
way
about him.  He’s magnetic.  Dazzling.  Mesmerizing.

And then it hits me.

Addictive.  Trick is addictive.

Yes!  That’s totally it!  The more I see of him, the more I
want
to see.  The more I think of him, the more I can’t
stop
thinking of him. 

Yes, that’s exactly the word I would best use to describe him—addictive.

I’m lost in a daydream of him when a knock at the door startles me.  I look up to see the very object of my ruminations standing in the hall just outside the study.

I stare at him.  It takes me a minute to adjust to seeing him when I’d been thinking about him in such depth.  Then he smiles at me and all I
can
do is stare.  I’m sure I look just like a deer caught in an oncoming car’s headlights.

“So, this is what you do all day,” he says, leaning one shoulder casually against the door jamb.  He’s wearing old jeans with a hole in the knee, boots and a white t-shirt with the sleeves cut off.  A red baseball hat is dangling from him fingers and his hair is messed up, like he just ran his fingers through it. 

I’m sure I’ve never seen anything more mouth-watering.

“What?” Ohmigod, I’m actually dazed.

He chuckles.  “I said, ‘so this is what you do all day’.”

“Oh, uh, no.  I was just, um, going over the books.”

“Yeah, that’s exactly what it looks like.”

I slide my feet off the desk, smiling as I rack my brain for something clever to say.  “I work better off my feet.”

One dark eyebrow snaps up.

“Um, I mean, I think better with my feet up.”

The other brow shoots up to join the first.

“What I mean is that I…I’m…”

I feel the blush rising into my cheeks as I stammer. It doesn’t help that Trick is smiling in such a playful way.

Hot damn, he’s sexy!

“I know what you meant,” he says quietly.

My face gets even hotter.

“Please don’t do that.”

“Do what?” I ask.

“Blush.  You have no idea how hard it makes it.”

“How hard it makes what?”

He doesn’t answer immediately.  He cocks his head to the side and studies me before he answers.  “Staying away from you.”

I look down at the ledger I’m holding and bite my lip to keep the smile of pure pleasure from emerging.

You shouldn’t be happy about that comment, you idiot!

But I am.

“Good God, that’s not helping either.”

My eyes flicker up.  He has straightened and is running his fingers through his hair, his head bowed.

“What did I do now?”

“You’re biting your lip and…God! It just makes me think of what you taste like.”  He sounds almost pained.  And I get the feeling if he could get his hands on me, he’d kiss me.

Something hot and exciting builds in my stomach. 

I know I shouldn’t ask.  He works for my father.  And I have a boyfriend.  But none of that seems to matter.  I can’t help myself.   

“Why are you so determined to stay away from me?”

“I’m the help. Your father wouldn’t like it.  And I need this job.”

I’m not sure how I feel about that reasoning. It’s sound, yes. Sound, responsible, respectful, all those things.  But…

“And I have a boyfriend.”

It’s perverse that I would remind him of that.

He laughs.

“I’m not worried about him.”

“Why not?”

“Because if he was all that stood in my way, I’d make it my mission to take your mind off him.  For good.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that,” Trick repeats.  He takes a step into the room.  Then another. I see his expression change and my pulse picks up.  “I’d be all you could think about.  You’d think about my smile all day and my lips all night.”  He takes another two steps into the room.  Two steps closer to me.

I’m actually breathless with anticipation.  The air between us is thick with…something.

And then I see a shape move in the doorway. I look past Trick and there stands my father.  He clears his throat. 

I’ve got to hand it to Trick.  He doesn’t really get flustered.  His expression falls a little bit, and maybe cools down from the heat he was wearing a second ago, but he doesn’t jerk like he’s guilty of anything.  He just watches me for another second and then turns around to face Daddy.

“Sir, I was just looking for you.  A family emergency has come up and Sooty will be out the rest of the day.  He thinks he might be able to get back by tomorrow night, but he isn’t sure.”

I watch my father’s face cloud over. Not thundercloud cloud, but close.  He hates surprises.