Mr. Unlucky (7 page)

“I like you, cowboy.” She hummed, wiggled. “We should take our sensitive bits into less mosquito-populated areas.”

“We should. Gimme a minute.” Maybe two. Then he could carry her.

“I got time.” She leaned in, lips on his shoulder. “You work hard today?”

“Rearranged the hay barn.” He lifted his head, kissing the curls on her forehead. “Are you allergic to hay?” Bodie sure hoped not.

“I am not. I’m allergic to cashews and ragweed. That’s it.”

“Right. No cashew Christmas thing this year.” Was he thinking Christmas with this woman? That was a danger zone. Any time he thought about permanency with a woman, she up and died.

“It’s a deal.” She chuckled and kissed his nose. “If you want, I’ll rub you down in the shower.”

“I would never say no to that.” He shook off his weird fission of worry and headed toward the door, hauling her all the way. “Then I’ll feed you ice cream and your cookie.”

“That’s totally reasonable.” She stood, unashamed as she sashayed over, picked up a little zebra striped bag. Look at that; she came prepared. He did like a practical gal.

Hell, he liked this one. From her pretty painted toes to the mass of fiery red hair at the top. All the bits in between weren’t bad either. Her ass was round but tight, not a bit of sag. She had strong thighs, pretty calves, and cute feet. He had it bad.

“Unlock your door, cowboy. Let me in.”

She already was in. Deep.

Chapter Five

God, it was pretty out here. Spring was still in, even though summer was close—like she’d packed all but one hoodie away and the flip flops were on, full bore.

Addie swung up into the saddle, a Thermos of coffee, her camera, and a blanket in her saddlebags. She hadn’t been out on Cherry in too long and shit, she needed to go. To think.

To take some damned pictures to sell.

Cherry was a little fractious, not in an ornery way, just ready to get out and stretch her legs. Addie personally thought it was jealousy. Maddie had taken Winter and Little Dot out to race this time, and Cherry hated being left behind. Maddie needed to put Winter out to pasture, let the sweet girl spend out her days trail riding and making babies. Maybe she ought to let the mare run a little, just to get it out of both of their systems.

She leaned forward and gave Cherry the reins. The little buckskin scampered like she had a bee stinging her ass, like the go-ahead had been given and they were zipping down the alley, ready to race the barrels. The seat rasped a little and Addie knew, no question, that her ass was going to ache tonight. Still, it felt pretty good and she thought her body might remember how to ride, someday. Maybe not today.

Cherry took off like a fuck-starved jackrabbit, and Addie whooped, leaning forward over the mare’s neck. Feel that wind!

They barreled through the back forty, the tall needle grass slapping on her boots. She felt like an old-time cowgirl for a few moments, and she laughed when she thought of what Daddy Chris would say. Maddie was their chip off the block, not her. She had the itchy feet.

Like Daddy Chris could complain. The man had ridden the circuit for years, at least until Dad had hooked him like a big mouthed bass. Okay, ick. No more fish references. When Cherry finally slowed to a trot, Addie pulled her up, walking her out to cool her off. Time to make sure her camera was in one piece.

She slipped down, grabbing Cherry’s reins and wandering as she dug out her Nikon. There must be some good shots down at the pond. There were always birds, weird animal tracks, and some crazy algae patterns. It made her smile, how much photography had changed. Shit, if she’d been shooting twenty years ago, she’d be carrying a hundred film canisters. Now she had a million memory cards, a reader, and about a zillion thumb drives with weird backups hanging on a keychain by the front door. Thank God for technology.

Addie got to work, clicking away, going ninety to nothing, when footsteps behind her made her jump, almost drop her camera. “Shit!”

“Sorry, baby girl. Didn’t mean to scare you.” Her dad, Brandt, came up behind her, leading his gelding. “How’s it going?”

“Dad!” She grinned at him, her hands shaking a little. She hadn’t realized how unsafe she’d felt out on the job until it ambushed her at home. “Man, you scared me.”

“I didn’t mean to. I just saw you go by and wondered who had stolen Cherry.” He winked.

“I needed to get out, think.” She petted Hillbilly’s nose, laughing as the big boy nibbled at her shirt, looking for sugar.

“You not thinking of moving on again so soon?”

“No. No, I…I sort of have a reason I want to stay.”

He raised a brow, tipping his hat back on his head. “That feller?”

“Yes, sir.” She shrugged. “He’s just…he’s fun, Dad. Like really fun and he works hard, I like his laugh.” She liked how he talked to her, wanted to see her with her clothes on as well as off.

“Well, just be careful.” He held up a hand. “I ain’t saying he’s gonna kill you, but something like what he’s been through has to damage a man.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I know, but…” She shrugged.

“Honey, that guy you’d were seeing in Boston. The one we never met—”

“Don’t Dad.” Jim had been awful at the end. Mean. Almost vicious. And he’d been texting her damned near daily, making her think she ought to get a new number. Blocking him hadn’t worked. He’d just gotten himself a new number, and when she’d picked up, he’d been wild, screaming like a banshee.

“I just don’t want you to be all rebound-girl. You just need to be aware.” Her dad was eminently practical, which was why the whole love at first sight thing he’d done with Daddy Chris was legendary.

“So what if I am? So what if I want to be with a guy that doesn’t think I’m a piece of shit for a little while?” The words surprised her, so angry, so bitter that they made her mouth taste acid-y.

He held up his hands, his frown immediate. “Do I need to go kill that Jim feller, then? The one from before?”

“Yes.” She surprised herself by launching into Dad’s arms and holding on.

“Okay, baby girl.” He held her tight, the scent of Stetson and smoke strong. Someone had been burning trash. “You’re no piece of shit. You’re my baby girl, and I will go forth and smite.”

She nodded, fighting the tears for all she was. “He was an ass, Dad, and I just want to feel pretty and wanted and like I’m special.”

Which, okay, was most likely what everyone wanted, but that didn’t change how she felt.

“Of course you do. Just don’t let that get you into trouble, okay? And I don’t mean pregnant, though you ought to be careful on that, too.” He kissed the top of her head.

That made her snort. “What? You’re not ready to be a grandpa?”

“Oh, I am. I could be the best Pappy on earth. But you’re not married.” He winked down at her and patted her back, and Addie wished, for the eighty millionth time, that people would stop being short-sighted assholes and let her dads get married, too. They deserved it, just like she did. “Until you’re ready to think on that, I want you to be careful.”

“I am. I mean, I really am. Condoms are a girl’s best friend.”

“Good girl.” He gave her one last squeeze. “So, you ready to talk about your daddy’s birthday present?”

“Oh, yes! I have the cake ordered for him, and I know Maddie’s having his old saddle repaired. What should I get him?”

Daddy Chris’ birthday was always a blast.

“Well, I figured you could go in with me on a pair of boots. He needs a new dress pair, and you know how vain he is.”

“Oh, I do. I’d love to do that. You thinking snakeskin?”

“Cayman, maybe. He sure liked Mattheus’ boots last spring. Man, that Brazilian can train horses.”

“Is that the green-eyed monster peeking, Dad?”

“Me? Nah.” Her dad grinned wryly, though, which belied his words. “He sure liked your daddy, though.”

“Daddy Chris has an excess of personality.”

“He does. You get that from him.” Dad Brandt’s stomach rumbled. “Wanna go get lunch?”

“God, yes. Race you home?”

He gave her a bright grin, his big brown eyes just dancing. “Last one home has to make the Rice Krispie treats.”

“Oh, the horror. You’re on, old man. I love you in an apron.”

Dad jumped on his horse and wheeled around, taking off like lightning. She whooped and vaulted into the saddle, laughing when Cherry went from zero to gallop in no time. Fool mare hated to be left behind.

By the time the house came into view, she was laughing, head thrown back, the worries of the world just ridden away.

Chapter Six

Bodie stood in the aisle at the Ace hardware, staring at paint chips.

Why he had the sudden urge to paint the guest bath, he had no idea. Could be that a certain redhead might have said it was too bad his master didn’t have two sinks. Apparently shaving was a messy thing. That and his counter didn’t have enough room for all that girlie stuff she was leaving around.

He grinned. She wasn’t that girlie, really, but that didn’t stop him from peering at the thousand and one shades of pink.

“Man, you painting the barn again?” Hector Morales came up, a big boxes of paint stirrers in his arms.

“Nope. Redoing the guest bathroom.”

“Oh. That butter yellow, it’s got a good look to it.”

Bodie nodded, picking out the chip. Away from all the other yellows, the color had a nice, homey appearance that he liked. “I like it. You think I should paint the chair rail brown?”

“I go for white, a lot, but brown works too.”

“Huh.” God, this was crazy. What did it matter if his bathroom was yellow or denim blue? “Primer?”

Hector pointed. “We got a special. Free brushes and drop cloths if you buy both.”

“Well, there you go. Might as well pony up.”

“You ain’t fixin’ to sell, are you?”

“What? No. Where would I go?” Hell, he loved that land.

“Well, nowhere, I hope. You just got things going real good.” Hector shrugged. “You’re not the home decorator type, is all.”

“I know. I also haven’t had anyone to impress in a bit, though.” He almost bit his lip clean through, letting that slip. Hector was a good guy, but Bodie knew how the whole town felt about him dating anyone.

“Oh, a girl? Congrats, man. She pretty?”

“She is.” Addie was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen, and he surely meant no disrespect to either of his ex-fiancées, bless their souls. Carla had been a soft blonde with strawberry lips, a high-school-sweetheart kind of girl. Lena had been the older woman, half Mexican and all fire.

Addie, though, Addie was the kind of woman you remodeled a bathroom for. “How much do you think it would cost to put in a double sink in my master? I got the space.”

“That depends, man. You can do it on the cheap or do it nice. Let me mix your paint up, and I’ll meet you in plumbing.”

“Thanks.” He clapped Hector on the back, grateful the man smelled a sale and let the conversation drop. He wasn’t sure he was ready to share Addie yet. Well, he wasn’t sharing her at all, but he wasn’t ready let the whole town know about her.

After all, he had a bad enough reputation, then add to that the fact that she had two dads, that she was a professional woman doing nothing at the ranch. Lord.

They were rumors just looking for a place to happen.

He waited for Hector to shake his paint up, trying to decide whether to panic or just go have a hamburger.

He thought she’d like the marble sinks. He liked them a lot. Bodie bit the bullet and ordered two. He’d shore up that old buffet cabinet he had in the barn and drop the sinks in there with a countertop.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he grabbed it, checked his messages. Addie in a tiny bikini, sunning herself. Damn. He grinned like a fool, his body tightening up some. Hoo, boy.

She was worth it.

He texted back a picture of the sinks. Maybe she’d have an opinion. He also sent a picture of the paint.

Man, he was hooked through the fucking balls. It was as terrifying as it was glorious. When she sent back a picture of her hand, curled into a fist with the thumb up, he almost did an undignified dance. Yeah, he was all in.

Damn, girl.

* * * *

Addie pulled into Bodie’s driveway, grabbed the bags of groceries and headed up to the porch. She’d promised to make burritos, which was, basically, her one big cooking skill.

Burritos, tacos, chili.

Weird, since none of them were Mexican, but Daddy Chris said their surrogate craved Taco Bell for damned near seven months. She guessed that was why she and Maddie had a jones for all things that came in tortillas.

She hoped he liked green chili. She’d learned to make this neat green chili beef burrito recipe one winter when she was working in Colorado, photographing avalanche areas for the park service.

She knocked on the door, using her elbow.

“Just a minute!” Bodie’s voice came from somewhere deep in the house.

“‘Kay, cowboy.” She leaned against the doorframe.

The door opened about the time her arms were fixing to fall off, and Bodie appeared, his whole front smeared with yellow paint. “Hey, honey. Shit! Let me take that.”

“You been attacked by a canary, lover?” It was a pretty color, actually—warm and nice. “I like it, by the way. The color, not the possibility of avian molestation.”

He blinked, then chuckled. “No birds. Just a bathroom. I’ll finish up while you set up camp in the kitchen.” Bodie leaned over her carefully and gave her a kiss.

She kissed him back, just letting it be easy, lazy. Normal.

He hummed, then pulled back, not letting paint get all on her. “So, what’s cookin’, honey?”

“Burritos, as requested. I brought a cherry pie from Sally’s, too.” She wanted to watch him lick the filling off his fingers.

“Oh. I got some cream in a can.” He grinned for her, bouncing on his toes.

“Mmm. Yummy.” She winked. “Go, paint things, I’ll start supper.”

“Hey, I’m redoing the bathroom. Both of them.” He looked so tickled that she had to laugh.

“Ooh. I want to see!”

“Well, come see the master first. I got the sinks in there so it could be usable as soon as possible.” He helped her put her stuff in the kitchen before dragging her to the bedroom.