Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

A s we pull out of our parking spot, the vibrant, sassy woman sitting between us suddenly goes still and tenses up. I glance over at her, feeling the shift in her personality.

Emma's body, usually so relaxed and full of life, now looks rigid and defensive. She digs her fingers into her bare thighs, and I can see her knuckles turning white from the pressure.

Her eyes, usually sparkling with humor and confidence, are wide and darting, as she spots Greg standing across the street. The bastard looks as smug as ever, like he's won some kind of prize.

Someone didn't get the memo that he's not wanted here.

Anger toward him courses through me along with a fierce protectiveness for her. No one should have the power to make her feel this way, especially not that prick.

As Weston drives, I can't help but notice how close she is, yet how distant she feels at the moment. The chemistry and chatter that usually flows between us is replaced by a cold barrier.

"Why the fuck is he still here?" she grinds out between clenched teeth.

"Hey, don't worry about that asshat," I say, keeping my voice light. "He's probably stuck here 'cause he can't get a flight out. Happens all the time."

He better hope that's why he's still here. I won't let him hurt her. He doesn't deserve to even breathe the same air as her.

Emma doesn't respond, just nods slightly, her eyes still locked on Greg until we turn the corner. I make a silent promise to myself: I'll do everything I can today to make her forget about him.

She deserves so much better.

The drive is unusually quiet. Emma, normally so full of sass and fire, sits silently, staring out the window. I glance at Weston, and he gives me a slight nod. We both know something's up. No way is it just seeing her soon to be ex that has her this quiet and reserved.

Something else is up.

"Hellcat, you alright?" I ask, glancing at her.

She sighs. "Seeing Greg just brought everything crashing back. I'm still married. And... this, with you two, isn't real. It isn't more than some fun ranch fling that has to end eventually."

Weston reaches over and grabs her hand. "This is very real. We are very real. What we feel about you is very real."

"You barely know me," she breathes.

"We know enough," he replies.

Emma looks at him. "Then why did you make me cum and leave last night? Like I was some sort of cheap whore? And again at the diner? Sophia interrupted, but I'd bet money you'd make me see stars and then dip out."

"First, you are not a cheap whore. If you were, wouldn't we have been the ones to get off and then leave you?" Weston tries to tease and looks at her briefly before returning his gaze to the road.

"I guess." She rolls her eyes. "But still. Why leave?"

I chuckle. "My brother just told you this was very real for us. We don't want you to think that all you are is some buckle bunny."

"Buckle bunny?" she asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah," I explain. "A woman who we mess around with because we know they're chasing the cowboy dream. The status and life we have as cowboys. You're not the same."

She doesn't respond right away, just looks out the window, her fingers tracing invisible patterns on her thigh. I wish I could explain to her how drawn to her we are. But it doesn't make sense to me, let alone trying to explain it to someone else.

I'm done for.

Some might call me crazy, but this is my woman. There's no way in hell I can let her walk away after two weeks. I've never been one for feelings though so how do I tell her that?

"Red, walking out of your cabin last night was one of the hardest things I think either of us has done. But you said you've never been with two men, and we don't wanna hurt you," my brother explains.

I remember the way she looked last night. The way her eyes were black with desire, the way her chest rose and fell. The memory of her taste, her scent, it's all still fresh in my mind. Leaving her felt like going against every instinct I had.

"Do you know how hard it was to walk away?" he adds, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. "We wanted to stay. Every day dropping you off at that cabin and not going inside and ravaging you is torture."

She finally looks at me, her eyes filled with doubt and curiosity. "Then why didn't you?"

"Because we respect you, Emma," I tell her. "We didn't want to rush you into something you weren't ready for. We care about you too much for that."

"Well, next time tell a girl," she huffs. "You had me thinking my pussy was bad or something."

I laugh. "Oh, quite the opposite, Hellcat. I wanted to impale you on my cock and never leave."

She blushes deeply, her cheeks turning a beautiful shade of red. It's a relief to see her smile again, even if just a little.

"We're here," Weston announces as the truck comes to a stop.

The sight of the natural spring-fed waterfall never gets old. The water cascades down the rocks, sparkling in the sunlight, creating a soothing sound as it splashes into the clear pool below. Emma's eyes widen in awe as she steps out of the truck, her phone already in hand to capture the beauty.

God, she's beautiful.

I've seen plenty of breathtaking sights in my life, but none compare to the woman standing before me.

"This is amazing," she breathes, snapping picture after picture.

As she takes it all in, Weston and I set up the bed of the truck with blankets and pillows, laying out the food we brought.

When we're done setting up, I walk over to her, standing close enough that her ass is pressed against my cock.

"You know," I whisper, "the waterfall isn't the only stunning thing around here."

She spins to face me, lowering the phone. Her cheeks flush a delicate pink, and for a moment, she seems at a loss for words.

"I'm sure you say that to all the girls you bring here," she teases, but I shake my head, a smile on my lips.

"We've never brought another soul here. Minus the family, Hellcat. But enough of the mushy gushy. Come." I grab her hand. "Let us wine and dine you." I wink before I lead her back to the truck and she stops when she sees the bed.

"A picnic?" Her eyes light up, a small smile playing on her lips.

"A country picnic," Weston corrects her with a grin. "We're sitting in the bed of the truck, not the ground, Red."

We settle in, and the mood lightens as we dig into our sandwiches. Emma takes a bite of her grilled cheese and her eyes close briefly, a soft sigh escaping her lips and making my pulse quicken.

The way she sounds as she cums rushes to the front of my mind and I suppress a groan.

I catch Emma's gaze, her eyes sparkling.

"Let's make the most of this beautiful day," she suggests as she finishes her sandwich.

We kick off our boots and roll up our pants, heading toward the spring. I step in first, the icy water sending a shiver up my spine. Emma follows, hesitating a bit before dipping her toes in.

"Holy shit! That's cold!" she squeals, jumping back.

"It's a lot better later in the summer, like the end of July or August," Weston explains. "Then it's a nice place to take a dip and cool off."

"I'll take your word for it," she says, rolling her eyes.

"Hopefully, you'll be here to experience it," I mumble under my breath.

"I heard that," Weston nudges me.

"And?"

"I'm hoping for the same thing," he admits.

"It's not so bad once you're used to it," Emma giggles, not hearing a word that my brother and I just said.

Thankfully.

She takes a few more steps into the cool water, the initial shock wearing off as she adjusts to the chill.

"That's what she said," I snort, a cheeky grin spreading across my face.

Emma lets out a laugh, her eyes twinkling. "Pig," she retorts, splashing me lightly with her foot.

"If we're throwing around animal names, I wanna be a goat," Weston says with a devilish look in his eye. "That way I get the best treatment."

He scoops Emma up with ease and spins her around. Her laughter rings out, echoing off the rocks. The sound has me hardening in my jeans.

I can't help but let a wicked grin spread across my face as an idea forms. "Let's play a game."

Emma raises an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. "Alright. What game?"

"Truth or dare," I say, biting my bottom lip. "Are you up for it?"

Her eyes sparkle with mischief. "I'm game."

Weston gently sets Emma back on her feet, his hands lingering on her waist just a moment longer than necessary.

"Emma goes first," he says, his tone playful.

Emma's grin widens, her confidence apparent. "Dare," she declares. "Give me what you got, cowboy." She winks.

I watch her, my mind racing with the possibilities. The way her body moves, the confident way she holds herself—everything about her is pure sex appeal.