The Wild Ones (4 page)

The inside of her mouth tastes like sugar and mint.  I tease the tip of her tongue and it flirts back a little with mine.  What really surprises me is when I feel her hand at my waist. Her fingers fist in my shirt.  She’s holding on for dear life.

I wind my arm around her tiny waist and pull her body in close to mine.  I feel her melt against me.  It’s all I can do not to throw her over my shoulder and carry her off into the dark.  But a throat being cleared behind me ruins my fantasy.

She tenses in my arms and I know without opening my eyes that it’s her boyfriend.  I ease my head back, breaking the contact with her lips, missing it immediately, and I smile down into her eyes.

“That was worth what’s about to happen next.”

I turn slowly around to face my aggressor.  His face is red with fury. 

I preempt him.  “All right, you get one freebie.  Make it count.”

I tuck my hands behind my back and I stand there and wait.  The guy looks like he has no idea what to do. 

Hell, if that was my girl, I’d be on you like stink on shit.

Finally, after looking behind me at Cami, he balls up his fist and makes a passable attempt at a punch.  It’s so slow, I turn my head and his knuckles glance off the side of my face.  Probably won’t even leave a mark.

“Fair enough.  Now, you go your way and I’ll go mine.”

I pull my hands out from behind my back and start to walk off.  From the corner of my eye, I see him lunge at me.  I sidestep him and he nearly loses his balance and falls on his face.  When he turns around, I know it’s more about pride now, which means he’s getting ready to get stupid.

“Look, man, I gave you a free shot for kissing your girlfriend.  Don’t push it.”

The guy comes at me swinging this time. I block his first punch, duck his second and then put my fist in the center of his gut.  He doubles over and I lean down to speak quietly to him.  “Stay down.  If you don’t, this won’t end well for you.”

With that, I nod to the guy’s slack-jawed friend, wink at Cami and walk casually away. 

Smart guy.  He stayed down.

CHAPTER SEVEN- Cami

It takes me a second to recover after Trick winked at me.  It doesn’t help when I hear Jenna mumble behind me, “Mother of hell! That was effin’ hot.”  Finally, I snap back to my senses and go to Brent.

“Are you all right?”

I put my hand on his arm, but he jerks it back.  “What do you think you were doing?”

In the face of the emotional hurricane that’s blowing around inside me—guilt over thinking about Trick, guilt over wanting him to kiss me, pleasure over being in his arms, disappointment that Brent doesn’t make me feel that way, shame for cheating on my boyfriend—I latch on to the one defensive thing I can find—indignation.  I would call it righteous indignation, but the way I’m still trembling after Trick’s kiss, I think righteous might be a stretch.  Indignation will just have to do.

“You’re mad
at me
because someone else kissed me?  I had absolutely nothing to do with it!  It’s not like I sought him out.  I suppose it’d be my fault if I got hit by lightning, right?”

And that’s kind of what it felt like, like I’d been struck by lightning.  Delicious, toe-curling, hair-raising, belly-stirring lightning.

“Well, it didn’t look like you were fighting very hard.”

“Did you ever consider that it might’ve taken me by surprise?  I mean, it’s not like I came expecting some random guy to come up and kiss me.”

But if I’d known Trick would be here, I would’ve wished for it.

“I’m sorry,” Brent said, hanging his head a little. “You’re right. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Guilt stabs at my conscience again.

“Can we just forget about all this and enjoy the band?”

Brent sighs.  “Yeah. I don’t want this to ruin your whole night.”

“Good,” I say with a smile, winding my arm through his.  “Let’s get a drink and go watch the band.”

“Where’s Trevor?” Jenna asks as we turn to make our way to the keg.

“He’s still talking cars with that guy out front.  He’ll be here shortly.”

A few minutes later, each of us armed with red Solo cups full of beer, we make our way toward the stage.  The band is getting ready to go on.

They’re a local group called Saltwater Creek. I happen to know of them because they played a couple college gigs that I attended.  They’re a really good cover band with a few original songs that aren’t half bad.

The lead singer and guitar player, Collin, walks to the microphone.  “All right, all right, all right,” he says in his best Matthew McConnaughey drawl. “We’re one man short, but I think we could go ahead and get started if y’all can help me talk our friend, Trick, into coming up and filling in for a song or two.  Come on up, Trick.”

Every eye in the crowd turns toward the foot of the stage.  Trick is there.  He starts shaking his head and backing away from the stage, his hands held up in a STOP sign.

“Aw, come on, man.  Do it for the people.  They’re here to rock and roll.  Let’s give ‘em what they want.”

He’s still shaking his head, even though several guys around him are pushing him toward the stage.

“Let’s hear it for Trick, everybody!” Collin shouts.  “Trick!  Trick!  Trick!”

The crowd joins the chant and Trick looks around, a slow smile curving his lips.  For just a moment, his eyes meet mine.  I look away before Brent notices.

“Yeah!” Collin yells as the crowd starts clapping.

I look back toward the front.  Trick is walking onto the stage.  Someone hands him a bass guitar and he puts the strap around his neck. He takes the pick and starts testing the tune of the instrument.  The crowd quiets until they hear the familiar chords of Cat Scratch Fever begin to emerge.  Then they go wild.

Walking to the front of the stage, Trick strums out the notes effortlessly.  When his solo riff is over, the rest of the band chimes in, beginning with the heavy beat of the drum.  Girls start screaming, guys start hollering and I can’t help but smile.

I’m really beginning to enjoy myself when, all the way across the throng of partiers, Trick looks up and his eyes meet mine.  I am a deer caught in the headlights.  I am a girl charmed by the cobra.  I am breathless and mesmerized.

And then he grins. 

Just like that, I’m his.  Whether he knows it or not.

CHAPTER EIGHT-Trick

“I want Titan looking his best.  A trainer with a syndicate out of Alabama is coming at the end of the month to look at him.  I happen to know they pay top dollar for a bloodhorse and Titan is our best two year-old.” 

I look at my boss, Jack Hines.  His dark brown hair is styled like a man who uses hairspray, his fingernails are clean like a man who gets a manicure and his eyes are hard like a man who gets what he wants however he can. 

Jack Hines.  Self-made man.  Millionaire.  Champion breeder.  Dumb ass.

“Yes, sir,” I say as I continue to rub down Revere.

“They’re willing to look at Knight-Time. I think if they give him a shot, they’ll want him.  Maybe even over Titan.”

I nod.  I totally disagree, but I nod anyway.  “What about Highland Runner.  Have you given any more thought to—”

He shakes his head once.  I’ve only worked here six months, but I know what that means.  I grit my teeth.

“That horse is still too wild.  If I make the decision to race, it will be one from my own stock, like Knight-time.  If he’s not sold before then, that is.  If anything, I foresee Highland Runner ending up staying here to stud.  His bloodlines are good but…  These are the kinds of things you need to learn, Patrick, the subtle nuances of this business that will serve you well if you continue on in it.”

The jab hits its mark.  He’s putting me in my place.  He’s the expert; I’m not.  I get it.   He knows how much faith I have in Runner.  And he thinks I’m crazy. 

But
I
think
he’s
blinded by money.  Because Runner didn’t cost him much, Jack thinks he’s worthless.  He couldn’t be more wrong.

“Just have them ready,” he commanded, turning and stalking away in that arrogant way he has.  Before he gets out of the stable, he stops and hollers down to me.  “My daughter is home from school now.  She likes to ride most every day.  See that you help her if she needs it.  But nothing else.”

What the hell?

“Yes, sir.”

I’m a hired hand, which means I’m also a rapist?  His daughter is probably all of, what, sixteen and goes to, like, a prep school or something?  No doubt she’s as arrogant and detestable as he is.  Like I’d touch that with a ten-foot pole!

I finish rubbing down Revere and take him back to his stall.  As I pass Runner’s stall, I feel even more frustrated.

Dammit!

“Sooty!” I yell for the breeder slash trainer.  I hear his faint voice from somewhere at the other end of the stable.  “I’m taking Runner out.”  He mumbles something else.  It doesn’t sound like a “no,” so I grab Runner’s tack.

I took up with Highland Runner the first time I met him.  He’s an amazing horse.  Yeah, he’s a little wild and unruly, but he’s come a long way since I’ve been here.  All he needs is a firm hand and someone who’s not afraid to ride him.  And I’m just that person.

After I get him saddled, I lead him out to the round pen to put him through his paces.  I shorten his normal routine so I can ride him out in the fields.  The Hines ranch has acres and acres of smooth grassy fields perfect for riding the two year-olds and breeding horses, and for letting them out to run alone.

I let us through the gate and get back onto Runner.  His muscles twitch.  He knows what’s coming.  And he’s ready for it.

Runner responds to me perfectly, just like he always does.  Jack Hines just never takes the time to watch him. Not really, anyway.  His mind is set and that’s that.

But I know. I know Runner.  I know his potential. It’s a gut feeling I have.  And my gut is rarely ever wrong.

Just like my gut wasn’t wrong about Cami.

Cami.

Like she has a dozen times over the last day and a half, she pops into my head.  It happens at the strangest times.

I smile.  That girl… 

Her boyfriend better keep an eye on her.  If I get a hold of her again, I’m liable to steal her away.

I smile.  The thing is, I think I probably could.  That’s just not really my way.  Now if she leaves him
for me…
that’s a whole other story.

Just the thought of those lush lips and that tight little body makes the crotch of my jeans shrink about two sizes.  And that’s not a good thing when I’m on a horse’s back.

I guide Runner back to the stable.  From the corner of my eye, I see a flash of dark copper catch the sun.  I feel the grin tugging at my lips when I see none other than the object of my daydream walking toward the stable with her friend.

How did she find me?

Doesn’t matter.  She found me.  Now she’s as good as mine.

When Runner reaches the stable doors, I hop off his back and walk him the rest of the way in.  I stop him in front of his stall so I can bathe him and groom him after his run.

I peel my sticky shirt off and run my fingers through my damp hair. 

“This is gonna feel good for both of us, huh, Runner?” I say to the horse.  He puffs once.  I always get a little wet when I bathe the horses.  Guess I’m just a messy guy.

I get everything ready and I’m just starting to hose him off when she comes into the stable.  I look up and she’s watching me.  She looks fresh-faced and sexy as hell in her worn out blue jeans, boots and little red shirt.  Her hair is wound up in some sort of loose bun type thing on top of her head.  I can imagine her taking it down and shaking that red mess free, real slow.  Makes me want to pound something just thinking about it.

The strange thing is, she looks confused.  Like she’s surprised to see me.

But why would she be surprised when
she
came here looking for
me
?

CHAPTER NINE- Cami

Jenna mumbles exactly what I’m thinking. 

“Holy shit!  Will you look at that!”

I know I’m staring.  Rudely.  Again.  But I can’t help it.  At the other end of the stable stands Trick.  He’s shirtless, hatless, and wet.  And I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen anything hotter. 

His arms are long and muscular and his shoulders are wide.  When I look at them, one word comes to mind—powerful.  He’s a lot like the horses in the way his muscles move and bunch under his smooth skin.  And his chest!  Dear God, those pecs are just begging for my fingers to dig right in.

His stomach completes the perfect package of his upper body.  It’s rippled like the surface of the lake when I drop a rock into it, every abdominal well-defined.