Rough in the Saddle (2 page)

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Authors: Jenika Snow

BOOK: Rough in the Saddle
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Chapter
Two

 

Pearl
pushed open one of the scarred, wooden doors of the only bar in town. It was
named Dickie’s, and that seemed a little fitting as many of the men she’d seen
thus far wore jeans, Wranglers, tight enough that she could see their, well,
Dickie’s. Maybe she should have stayed home tonight, but the fact was being by
herself at her grandma’s on the first night was a little unsettling. She was
sad about the death, sad for herself that she no longer had anyone, and she was
not going to sit around feeling sorry for
herself
.

So,
Pearl had decided to head to the bar, maybe have a couple of drinks, meet some
of the regulars, and maybe, just maybe make friends. Not that Pearl cared much
for having friends, but if she planned on finding work and making Granite her
home, she needed to make
some
connections.

The
first thing she noticed as she stepped inside was that everyone seemed to stop
what they were doing and stare at her. Although she was black, and the majority
of the customers were white, she knew they weren’t staring at her because she
had a darker skin color. This was a smaller town, had been established by
founding families for generations, and because of that they tended to look at
outsiders differently. Because Pearl hadn’t been to see her grandmother in
Granite for years, she was an outsider.

They
didn’t know her, probably didn’t trust her, and she couldn’t blame them for
that. Hell, small towns like this probably got a lot of people passing through,
maybe trying to hide out, find new identities because this place was high in
the mountains and away from the general population.

She
smoothed her hands over the edge of her silk shirt and looked around. The bar
was packed, mainly in men wearing Wranglers, Stetson hats, plaid shirts, and
cowboy boots. The women wore Daisy Dukes, cowboy boots, and shirts that showed
their midriffs and cleavage. Pearl felt really overdressed, but oh well,
because she’d come here to get some drinks and not think about anything else.

She
moved over to the counter, took one of the few empty seats, and waited for the
bartender to make his way over to her. The bartender was a young man with a
head full of sandy colored hair brushed back from his forehead, his muscles
lean but defined, and showing through his white t-shirt. He was leaned over the
bar talking to another customer, his ass popped out and his tight as fuck
Wrangler jeans curved to the cheeks. The guy he spoke with was younger, and by
the body language alone she
new
some serious flirting
was happening between the two men.

“Excuse
me,” she said in a soft voice, hoping he heard her. A few of the customers
sitting at the counter glanced her way. One of the guys grinned and gave her a
wink, and another woman looked her up and down, clearly dissatisfied with
Pearl’s appearance.

Finally
the bartender pushed away from the counter and turned to face Pearl. He looked
at her, well, as much as he could
given
the counter blocking her lower body. After a second of watching her, he smiled
and made his way toward
her,
leaned on the counter in
the same fashion he had while flirting with the man, and smiled again.

“Well
hey there, stranger.” He grabbed a napkin and set it in front of her. “What’ll
it be?” He lifted a sandy colored eyebrow, his dark eyes like melted coal.

“Something strong.”

His
grin widened, and he nodded. He turned, and she watched as he made some kind of
fruity looking drink. Pearl didn’t normally consume alcohol, and when she did
it was beer. Having liquor would probably make her sick, but she didn’t care,
because all she wanted was to forget for a little while. He set the drink in
front of her, and put one of those colorful little umbrellas with a maraschino
cherry at the end in her drink.

“Bottoms up, sweet cheeks.”
He didn’t move away, and so she
picked up her drink and took a sip, and instantly fire raced down her throat.
She gasped, her eyes watering as the bartender started chuckling, which caused
a few people close by to do the same.

“Honey,
don’t ever let
Chippy
here make you a random drink.
He loads that shit with gasoline,” a woman next to her said with amusement in
her voice.

Pearl
looked over at the woman, who had too dark roots for her bleached blonde hair,
but a warm and kind face. It certainly tasted like he’d put gasoline in it, but
she picked it up again and took another drink. This one went down a hell of a
lot smoother than the first swallow.


Thatta
girl,” the bartender who was named
Chippy
said, his straight, white smile flashing. He turned
and helped another customer, and she shifted in the seat so her back was to
Chippy
now, and stared at the large room.

There
was an older looking jukebox in one corner, a pool table with green, faded felt
covering it, and older looking sticks and balls being used with it. There was a
group of men playing pool. Some were leaning against the wall with women hanging
off of them, and as Pearl turned her focus on the other end of the room three
men caught her attention. The shadows in the corner partially obstructed her
full view of them, but she could see that they all sat at a circular table, two
of the men having women on their laps, and the men’s big bodies what she
noticed first. They also were very similar in appearance, clearly related from
the dark hair on their heads and the identical matching blue eyes.

Yes,
even from the distance she could see the light, aqua color, and it was one of
the men that had her interest growing instantly. His flesh was the color of the
setting sun, golden, tanned. She picked up her drink, trying not to seem like
she was staring, but in all honesty it was hard not to. There was this air
about him, this commanding presence that covered him, as if she could actually
see it. He wasn’t a classically handsome man, but this worn, rough and tough
guy that had this raw sex appeal to him. She didn’t even know what had caused
this instant heat to fill her when she looked at him, but it was definitely
instant.

Then
he turned his head toward her, right in her direction, and stared at Pearl. It
was as if she couldn’t even move, couldn’t even breathe as his blue gaze held
hers. Should she turn away, act as though she wasn’t watching him? Already
they’d been watching each other for several seconds, and this uncomfortable
intensity filled her. She forced herself to turn away, held onto her drink
harder, tighter, so that she almost feared she’d break the damn glass.

“Girl,
looks like Travis has got his eyes set on you.”

“Excuse
me?” she said after she swallowed a rather large amount of her tropical drink.
Chippy
nodded over to where she knew the attractive,
intense man sat.

“Travis.
When he has his eyes on someone in here that means that’s who he’s taking home.
And honey, he is eye-fucking you big time.”

Pearl
almost choked on her drink after he’d spoken.


Chippy
, you’re scaring the young girl,” the older bleached
blonde woman said, but she was grinning.

“You’re
not scaring me,” Pearl said, but felt her cheeks heat. She finished off her
drink, handed
Chippy
the glass, grabbed a napkin, and
wiped her mouth.

“So,
you’re Shirley’s granddaughter?”
Chippy
asked.

Hearing
her grandmother’s name was like a hot poker to her heart. Pearl nodded, looked
down at the smooth counter of the bar top, and tried not to let her memories
bring her down. She didn’t want to be that person that sobbed at the bar,
drinking away their sorrows.

“Yeah,
she used to show off your picture at the library, say what a good girl you
were, and how successful you were in the big city,”
Chippy
said and smiled, and the sound of what her grandmother had done, and the fact
Pearl hadn’t come to visit in so long, cut her deep.

“Shirley
was a great lady,” the blonde said. “She always baked these cinnamon cookies
and brought them to town, handing them out to anyone that came into the
library.”

“Yeah,
she was a tough woman for sure. Volunteering at the library every weekend,
doing yard work, shit, she was tough as nails,”
Chippy
said.

“Yeah,
she always said she didn’t like to be idle, because that’s what killed people,”
Pearl said. Her grandmother had always been so active, and when she passed away
she’d been a ripe old age, lived a long life, and always had her heart filled
with love.

“Another one?”
Chippy
asked.

Hell
yeah, because with her emotions she felt like she needed to get good and
wasted.

****

           
Travis watched the woman at the
bar far harder than he should. He didn’t know her, had never seen her before,
and could assume she was either passing through, or maybe setting down roots in
Granite. But he couldn’t deny that he wanted her, wanted her in his bed, under
him, with his cock buried in her curvy body.

He
could see her curves from under the outfit she wore and loved that her skin was
this warm chocolaty color. He wanted to fucking lick her body from toes to
head, wanted to memorize every dip and hollow, and claim it for his own, but
only for one night. Travis didn’t want more than that, never wanted a female
for more than a few hours at a time. He didn’t want commitment, didn’t want a
wife or even a girlfriend.

He
finished off his shot, leaned back in the seat, and tried to figure out how to
get that goddess into his bed. He knew how to sweet-talk a woman, knew what to
say, but in Granite he didn’t have to say much because the female population
was eager to have his dick. That wasn’t him being an arrogant bastard, but a
fact he used to his advantage.

Travis
finished off his drink, stood, and was about to make that woman his for the
night.

****

Pearl
hadn’t meant to drink more than one, not since the first was potent as hell,
but she felt unnerved right now, and nodded, needing something else to help her
nerves. She was sad, but aroused because of that man, and that was totally
misplaced.

“Yes,
the exact same drink,” she said and stared at her hands, twisting, turning them
around in the napkin she held until the paper shredded away. The blonde was
busy talking with another man by this time, and as
Chippy
made another drink, Pearl felt this presence behind her.

Turning
slowly, she looked over her shoulder and saw right behind her the man that had
been staring at her. His blue eyes were piercing, and his name played through
her head.

Travis.

It
seemed so strange to have these kinds of feelings for a man she didn’t even
know. Pearl had only come into town just this morning, and here she was,
drinking like she was trying to drown her sorrows, and imagining herself being
with Travis. A one-night-stand was not what she
needed
, but it sure was what she
wanted
. Her emotions were twisted, turned around, and she wanted a
night of forgetting it all, just feeling a strong man taking care of her.
All her life she’d been in control, doing what she needed to make things
happen.
She’d never allowed herself to be a slave to her emotions, to
make her a submissive to the things she’d wanted.

“Hey.”
He said that one word so deeply, so enticingly, that she found herself turning
fully in her seat and facing him.

“Hi,”
she responded, feeling the flush steal over her as he stared at her. His black
hair was on the shorter side, but long enough that strands brushed along his
forehead. His cheeks and jaw were covered in dark scruff, adding to the image
that he was a hard worker, not a man that cared much for his appearance or if he
was clean-cut.

“You’re
not from Granite.” He said it without making it sound like a question.

She
shook her head. “I am now. I’m Shirley
Nemme’s
granddaughter.”

He
nodded slowly, a flash of sympathy covering his face. “I’m sorry to hear about
Shirley. She was a good woman.”

She
glanced down at the floor, knowing this man spoke the truth, and knew that
everyone in this town knew how special her grandma was.

“Let
me buy you a drink,” he said.

“Okay,”
she said without hesitation and smiled, liking that she was getting this
attention, especially from the man she was attracted to. It did feel weird, a
little bold, but she needed this right now. He gestured for
Chippy
to put her mixed drink on his tab, grabbed the fruity looking mixture, and
gestured for her to come with him. Pearl got off the stool, glanced at the
bartender, and saw him wink at her. He mouthed “Have fun”, and turned to help
someone else before she could respond.

The
two men that were at the table he’d been at were now gone, and when they sat
down she felt a little bold and odd doing this. Hell, she didn’t even know what
“this” was, but it seemed so forward.

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