30. Lily

30

Lily

“Y’all be taking out ?” asked the smiling girl behind the counter. Even Starbucks was different, this far south.

“Yep,” I said. What would he like? What was safe? “Can I get an iced latte with extra ice?”

“Tall? Grande?”

I thought about Bull for a second. “Venti. Definitely Venti.”

“Whipped cream?”

“Probably not.”

I told her my name and went to wait at the end of the counter. He’d like an iced latte, right? Everyone liked an iced latte, on a hot day. Even if it showed up unexpectedly.

A half hour later, with the latte still relatively cold, I pulled up outside the ranch. It was mid-morning, which was deliberate. I wanted him to be busy and have to run back to work—that way, there’d be no way that things could get out of control.

One of the ranch hands directed me to a barn—a huge, old-fashioned one of red-painted wood, piled high with hay bales. When I peeked through the door, I saw Bull stripped to the waist, heaving hay bales around. Doesn’t he ever wear a shirt?

I didn’t speak, didn’t move. I just stood there silently watching him for a moment, taking in the rippling muscles of his back and the solid mass of his biceps. Everything about him was... physical. Real. The opposite of my own world of electrons and secrets.

Then I saw him freeze, like an animal catching a scent on the breeze. He turned slowly to face me and I ducked halfway back behind the door. When he saw me, we just stood there staring at each other for a few seconds.

“Hi.” My voice quavered. “Um. I came to apologize.”

He tossed the hay bale aside as if it weighed nothing and strode towards me.

“I shouldn’t have blown up at you,” I said, and looked at the ground.

He put a finger under my chin and gently lifted my head so that I was looking up at him. I braced myself for something raw and coarse, some crack about how he wanted to fuck me.

“I’m sorry, too,” he muttered.

I just stood there in shock.

“I guess I didn’t expect...all that,” he said. “But that don’t mean it ain’t...impressive. Hell of a lot more impressive than roping steers and riding bulls. And better paid, that’s for goddamn sure.”

Had he just... apologized? Bull? The ground seemed to be slipping away from under my feet.

“I’m still mad at you,” he said. “Because I’m worried you’ll get yourself killed.”

Someone was worried about me? The shock of it was matched by how good it felt. The ground was gone completely, now. I was floating, helpless.

And then I remembered my plan. I had to turn away and leave, now.

I offered up the Starbucks cup. “I brought you an iced latte,” I said, holding it out. My hand shook a little.

“Did you?”

“Um...yep.”

He moved even closer. He loomed. So much power. My insides tightened again and this time the feeling slid lower—between my thighs. Our chests were almost touching. “I don’t want a fucking latte,” he said.

I stood there in shock, just breathing for a second. It wasn’t what he’d said; it was the unspoken message in his eyes. The realization of what he did want.

It wasn’t much cooler in the barn than outside. The air pressed in on me from every side, roasting me slowly through my jeans and faded red t-shirt. But there was a second kind of heat, throbbing into me from him, pulsing right into my depths. A sort of heat that made me weak inside, all my good intentions melting away.

I closed my eyes and tilted my head up, waiting for his kiss.

“No,” he said in a low growl.

I opened my eyes. He was staring right at me.

“No more goddamn games,” he told me. “No more letting me kiss you and then running, Lily. You come in this door, it’s going to happen. I’m going to take you, my way, so you better be sure you’re ready.”

The heat filled me completely, washing down to my toes and up to my brain, scorching away any last traces of rational thought. Somewhere, there had been a plan. Somewhere, there had been reasons why this was a bad idea. But suddenly, none of that mattered.

“Yes,” I whispered. “I’m ready.”

The latte slipped out of my hand.

And he pulled me into the barn.