Hard Ridin' (16 page)

His stomach felt suddenly hollow. Not a flutter of happiness at this fact dwelled within him. Setting his jaw, he rolled down the window and waved at Holden.

The man saw him at once and drew the tractor close enough that they could talk once he cut the engine. Jens climbed out of the truck and Holden jumped down to the ground. They met halfway on the spongy earth.

“Where’s Laurel?”

“In the house.” Holden gnawed at the inside of his cheek and met Jens’s gaze solemnly. “Rufus almost crushed her against the side of the stall today.”

“What the—? Why the hell was she in there with Rufus?”

“Giving him feed. She didn’t know any better. But it was close, man. Too damn close. I ripped her out of the stall just in time.”

Jens’s stomach sank clear to the soles of his boots. A lump leapt into his throat, and he fought to speak around it. “Jesus,” he breathed. “At least she wasn’t hurt.”

From beneath the brim of his hat, Holden gave him a sharp look.

“What? You think because I wasn’t there to keep her safe that I’m not damn glad you were? You know me better than that, Holden.”

A light glimmered in Holden’s eyes and he firmed his lips. A long minute passed as they stared each other down, assessing so much.

Finally, he spoke. “Well, you’ve been lookin’ a bit different to me as of late, Jens.”

Jens shook his head. Water sluiced off his hat and dripped onto his shoulders. A cold rivulet snaked down his back and mingled with the shiver of fear that had already been there over Laurel’s near catastrophe. “You see things differently because your eyes are different. I’m the same.”

“The same friend I had before? The one I signed my name beside on the mortgage paper for this ranch?”

“Hell, yes.” Anger sparked in Jens’s chest. “You think I care about you any less because we happen to love the same woman?”

Something crossed Holden’s face—a strange recognition that Jens couldn’t read. But he’d seen that same look from Laurel this morning. What the hell was going on? If they were plotting something behind Jens’s back—to run away together and elope—Jens would crumble. What would he have in his life if they both left?

Holden pulled his gaze from Jens’s and kicked at the hump of rich, dark brown soil. “I don’t know what to think anymore, man. All I know is that we need to keep Laurel safe in ways I never expected.”

Jens’s chest filled with an emotion akin to relief. But why? He couldn’t make sense of the dynamics between him and Holden since Laurel entered the picture. With no idea what transpired between her and Holden, Jens was left in the dark. For all he knew, they were plotting to hop a jet to Las Vegas tomorrow.

What would I do then? Follow like some lost, love-sick puppy?

When he’d suggested that he and Holden share her, he’d originally thought he could be a man and walk away if Laurel asked him. Now, he wasn’t so sure. There was a fight inside him—a will to live. To truly live, as Laurel had shown him was possible.

He knuckled the rain water away from his nose and stared at his best friend again. This morning, he’d asked Laurel what was going on, and she’d changed the subject. He wasn’t even going to question Holden, inherently knowing that Holden would never tell him.

Holden put the tractor to bed and slowly walked to the barn. His jeans were soaked and hanging off his hips, only held on by his belt. And every muscle on either side of his spine was on fire.

Tension and hard work did that to a man.

What a fucking day. First he’d completely compromised his relationship with Laurel when he insisted on eating her pussy after Jens had fucked her. She had to think Holden was a depraved pervert now that she’d had time to contemplate it.

Then she’d nearly gotten herself killed by a horse.

After that, Jens had faced him down and given him some hard facts—like the one about just wanting Laurel to be taken care of, even if it wasn’t Jens doing the caring. His friend’s words had completely shattered Holden’s delusions about Jens’s motives. The man didn’t appear to have any.

And I’ve tasted your come, buddy.

Without meaning to, he found himself running his tongue over his lower lip. His cock twitched with renewed desire. But he wasn’t likely to get any lovin’ from Laurel—the sun was setting and that meant she’d drive off with Jens soon.

Besides, Holden was so exhausted from carrying bag upon bag of seed out of the leaky shed and into a dry outbuilding, plowing up the last of the fields and taking care of the livestock, he probably couldn’t move a hip muscle.

She’d just have to ride cowgirl style.

Dark heat wove through his groin, and his balls tightened. Part of him wanted like hell for Laurel to go home with Jens and come back to Holden in the morning, ready and soaked with their mingled come.

Groaning, he ran his hand over his wet face. He was losing it. Really slipping. This game had transformed into a farce. Or something scarier. The stakes had never felt so high. Before today, Holden was at risk of losing Laurel to his best friend. Now it felt as if he would lose his sanity and his sexual orientation.

But that first lick had been so damn good.

“Fuck.” He jammed the toe of his boot into the front step of the house, and then ran up the remainder of the steps. Golden interior light oozed through the windows, leaving big slabs of yellow butter on the porch. His stomach rumbled, but he didn’t know if he had the energy to feed himself. The first days of planting season were always the most difficult. By the end of the season, he’d be hardened. But right now, he was even too exhausted to have much concern for anything besides his pillow.

Hell, he was even too tired to think more about Laurel, Jens, and the way both of them had given him more pleasure than he’d ever known in his life.

Chapter Nine

Laurel spritzed body spray over her throat and the tops of her breasts, then the inside of her wrists and behind her knees. She was still warm and damp from her shower. Jens had taken a hasty one while she was preparing dinner, so she’d been forced to actually shower alone rather than have multiple orgasms.

During dinner, he’d poured on the country boy charms, murmuring how beautiful she was in her ear and telling her how much he wanted her between long, deep kisses. By the time she’d reached the shower, she’d been virtual mush, unable to form a thought that didn’t involve hard muscles or thick cocks.

She brushed out her wet hair and stared at herself in the mirror over the bathroom sink. A tingle started low in her belly and traveled through her limbs, making her temperature elevate. Her cheeks grew flushed.

Would Jens touch her the way he had last night? When he’d eased a finger into her ass, she’d lost all sense of time and place. Drifting in a world of ecstasy was fine by her.

She set aside the hairbrush and smoothed the tiny camisole over her torso. She wore an itty-bitty pair of panties in a matching pink hue. At one time, the ensemble had driven Holden wild. She hoped it did the same for Jens.

She studied her reflection. Who was she kidding? She’d purposely donned the lingerie because memories of Holden lingered around the garments. And she wanted to bring him into bed with her and Jens.

Her pussy throbbed at the thought of what lay in store for her tonight. Jens was surprisingly dominant in bed, and she wanted nothing more than to submit to him.

She opened the bathroom door and padded down the hall on bare feet. The old hardwood was cool under her soles, which was good since she was burning up.

Cowboy Fever. Ride ‘em hard.

As she reached the bedroom, she found the door partially closed. A faint light shimmered within. Was Jens waiting for her? Stretched out on the bed in full glory? Roped arms and broad chest, his long cock bobbing against his belly and oozing pre-come?

A faint groan escaped her. She pushed the door open.

And drew up short.

Jens reclined against a stack of pillows, head canted hard to the right, fast asleep. At the sight of his chiseled abs, she clenched her fingers into fists. God, she wanted to touch him so bad—to slide up his body and worship each hard plane. But exhaustion creased his handsome face, and she couldn’t bring herself to wake him.

Quietly, she stole across the room and switched off the bedside lamp before slipping in beside Jens. He didn’t budge when the mattress sank beneath her weight.

Curling up against him, she wrapped an arm around his chest and tucked her face against his fragrant shoulder. He’d worked so hard today and in the rain. He and Holden had remained outside long after they were soaked. She could only imagine the energy it had taken for them to stay warm. And the seed shed roof had sprung a leak, which meant they had to shift the heavy bags to another building. Rodents had gotten into a couple bags and some precious seed had been lost to the animals and the moisture.

As she settled and matched her breathing to Jens’s, she flipped through her day. After the horse incident, she’d done little but cook and clean for her men. The old Laurel would have balked at these domestic duties, but she wanted to do those things for Jens and Holden. They were working hard, and she wanted to care for them in some fashion.

Tomorrow would be more of a race to get the seeds into the ground, both on the main farm and hers. Would Holden be equally as tired or would he have time for her?

Sexual frustration knotted her core. It was going to be a hell of a long season if she wasn’t getting any action.

She closed her eyes and molded her palm to the ridges on Jens’s side, wishing she could filter some of her unused energy into the men she loved.

Jesus. Jens must have died and gone to heaven. A soft, sweet-smelling woman was clinging to him, wearing the skimpiest, pink floaty top and the smallest scrap of lace panties he’d ever seen.

He was as hard as fucking steel, but he didn’t have time. He was also late.

Morning sun streamed through the sheer curtains of Laurel’s bedroom. He rarely overslept, and today couldn’t be a worse time for it. They were burning daylight. Holden would be in the fields already.

Laurel was sleeping heavily, and Jens scooted out without waking her. Thank goodness for that. If he’d glimpsed a flash of those dark eyes, he would have dived right back into bed and ravaged her until noon.

As he pulled on his jeans and shirt, guilt gnawed at him. She’d taken time and effort to look pretty for him, and he’d repaid her by falling dead asleep. Shit, when he’d lain down, he hadn’t realized how drained he was. He couldn’t even remember drifting off, only that he’d counted the throbs in his aching shoulder muscles.

He cast a look around the messy room and spotted a pad of paper and a pen on a dresser. He pushed aside a stack of books to provide a clean writing surface. Then he scribbled a note.

I’ll make it up to you, sweet thing.-J

He placed the note on his pillow and quietly eased out of the room.

Inside his truck, he depressed the pedal and drifted away from the house to keep from waking Laurel with the engine, before popping the clutch and starting the truck. Within minutes, he was on the main farm. Sure enough, Holden was already spreading seed.

Some farmer Jens was—oversleeping today of all days.

They had soybean and corn to plant today. By afternoon, they should have enough of their own work done that they could move on to Laurel’s organic planting. Some of that work would be backbreaking. Especially since they’d have to hand-plant a lot of it—tomatoes, peppers and strawberries. She’d started some cucumber and watermelon seeds in small divots of soil in a warm part of her house, and those would need to be planted too.

He scraped his fingers through his hair. Damn, even with three of them working all-out, they’d need another four hours added to each day.

Jens stopped the truck on the road below the field where Holden was working. His friend had his pickup there, the back loaded with seed. As Holden made another pass over the field, Jens waved.

Through a series of gestures, Holden indicated that he was ready for more seed. Their seed spreader was old and had to be hand-loaded—a sacrifice they’d made in order to spend more money on the tractors.

Jens reached into the back of the truck and heaved a fifty-pound sack of seed over his shoulder. Then he hooked an arm around another sack and planted it against his side. Laden with a hundred pounds, he started up the incline to where Holden waited.

The rain had slacked off, but mist hung in the air. It was going to be another wet and uncomfortable day. Hopefully, tonight he wouldn’t be so exhausted that he didn’t get a chance to warm up with Laurel.

A smile tilted his lips as he thought of her getting dolled up for him. As if she needed to. She’d be gorgeous in a feed sack, but Jens couldn’t honestly say he hadn’t been pleased to see the pink, naughty things she wore.

Tonight, I’ll have her every way I want.
Thoughts of pushing his finger into her hot, tight ass nearly made him drop the heavy sacks he carried.

Holden caught on immediately. “You sex drunk, Anderson?”

“Fuck you,” he said good-naturedly. He dumped both sacks on the ground and fished his pocket knife out of his jeans pocket to slash open the tough bags.