A Cowboy Never Quits, page 31
“So you decided to fill in.” He tried to hold back his grin.
She shrugged. “What else was I going to do?”
“That doesn’t explain the bike.”
“The bike is his main gift. I ordered it from the hardware store in town, but it was late and we weren’t expecting it to come in today. They called about an hour ago and said it had shown up, but they didn’t have anyone to deliver it. I was already in the pirate getup, so I ran into town to get it.”
“And decided to ride it home?”
“Yes, smart-ass. I thought it would be fun to squeeze onto a tiny bike dressed in a cheap Halloween costume and enjoy the bright, sunny day by riding home.” She blew out another exasperated breath. “My stupid car broke down on the main road.”
“Why didn’t you call Ham or Logan to come pick you up?” he asked, referring to her dad and her older brother.
“Because in my flustered state of panic about having to fill in as the pirate princess and the fear that the party would be ruined, I left my phone on the dresser when I ran out of the house. I was carrying the dang bike, but it got so heavy, then I tried pushing it, and that was killing my back, so I thought it would be easier and faster if I just tried to ride it the last mile back to the ranch.”
“Makes sense to me.” He slowed the car, turning into the long driveway of Rivers Gulch. White fences lined the drive, and several head of cattle grazed on the fresh green grass of the pastures along either side of the road.
The scent of recently mown hay skimmed the air, mixed with the familiar smells of plowed earth and cattle.
Seeing the sprawling ranch house and the long, white barn settled something inside of him, and he let out a slow breath, helping to ease the tension in his neck. He’d practically grown up here, running around this place with Quinn and her brother, Logan.
Their families’ ranches were within spitting distance of each other; in fact, he could see the farmhouse of the Triple J across the pasture to his left. They were separated only by prime grazing land and the pond that he’d learned to swim in during the summer and skate on in the winter.
The two families had an ongoing feud—although he wasn’t sure any of them really knew what they were fighting about anymore, and the kids had never cared much about it anyway.
The adults liked to bring it up, but they were the only kids around for miles, and they’d become fast friends—he and his brothers sneaking over to Rivers Gulch as often as they could.
This place felt just as much like home as his own did. He’d missed it. In the years since he’d left, he’d been back only a handful of times.
His life had become so busy, his hockey career taking up most of his time. And after what happened with Quinn, neither Ham nor Logan was ever too excited to see him. Her mom had died when she was in grade school, and both men had always been overprotective of her.
He snuck a glance at her as he drove past the barn. Her wavy hair was pulled back in a ponytail, but wisps of it had come loose and fell across her neck in little curls. She looked good—really good. A thick chunk of regret settled in his gut, and he knew letting her go had been the biggest mistake of his life.
It wasn’t the first time he’d thought it. Images of Quinn haunted his dreams, and he often wondered what it would be like now if only he’d brought her with him instead of leaving her behind. If he had her to wave to in the stands at his games or to come home to at night instead of an empty house. But he’d screwed that up, and he felt the remorse every time he returned to Rivers Gulch.
He’d been young and arrogant—thought he had the world by the tail. Scouts had come sniffing around when he was in high school, inflating his head and his own self-importance. And once he started playing in the big leagues, everything about this small town—including Quinn—had just seemed…well…small. Too small for a big shot like him.
He was just a kid—and an idiot. But by the time he’d realized his mistake and come back for her, it was too late.
Hindsight was a mother.
And so was Quinn.
Easing the car in front of the house, he took in the festive balloons and streamers tied to the railings along the porch. So much of the house looked the same—the long porch that ran the length of the house, the wooden rocking chairs, and the swing hanging from the end.
They’d spent a lot of time on that swing, talking and laughing, his arm around her as his foot slowly pushed them back and forth.
She opened the car door, but he put a hand on her arm and offered her one of his most charming smiles. “It’s good to see you, Quinn. You look great. Even in a pirate outfit.”
Her eyes widened, and she blinked at him, for once not having a sarcastic reply. He watched her throat shift as she swallowed, and he yearned to reach out to run his fingers along her slender neck.
“Well, thanks for the lift.” She turned away and stepped out of the car.
Pushing open his door, he got out and reached for the bicycle, lifting it out of the back seat before she had a chance. He carried it around and set it on the ground in front of her. “I’d like to meet him. You know, Max. If that’s okay.”
“You would?” Her voice was soft, almost hopeful, but still held a note of suspicion. “Why?”
He ran a hand through his hair and let out a sigh. He’d been rehearsing what he was going to say as they drove up to the ranch, but now his mouth had gone dry. The collar of his cotton T-shirt clung to his neck, and he didn’t know what to do with his hands.
Dang. He hadn’t had sweaty palms since he was in high school. He wiped them on his jeans. He was known for his charm and usually had a way with women, but not this woman. This one had him tongue-tied and nervous as a teenager.
He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Listen, Quinn. I know I screwed up. I was young and stupid and a damn fool. And I’m sorrier than I could ever say. But I can’t go back and fix it. All I can do is move forward. I miss this place. I miss having you in my life. I’d like to at least be your friend.”
She opened her mouth, and he steeled himself for her to tell him to go jump in the lake. Or worse. But she didn’t. She looked up at him, her eyes searching his face, as if trying to decide if he was serious. “Why now? After all these years?”
He shrugged, his gaze drifting as he stared off at the distant green pastures. He’d let this go on too long, let the hurt fester. It was time to make amends—to at least try. He looked back at her, trying to express his sincerity. “Why not? Isn’t it about time?”
She swallowed again and gave a small nod of her head.
A tiny flicker of hope lit in his gut as he waited for her response. He could practically see her thinking—watch the emotions cross her face in the furrow of her brow and the way she chewed on her bottom lip. Oh man, he loved it when she did that; the way she sucked her bottom lip under her front teeth always did crazy things to his insides.
“Okay. We can try being friends.” She gave him a sidelong glance, the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “On one condition.”
Uh-oh. Conditions are never good. Although he would do just about anything to prove to her that he was serious about being in her life again.
“What’s that?”
“I need someone to be the other pirate for the party. I already asked Logan if he would wear the other costume, and he refused. I was planning to ask Dad, but I have a feeling I’ll get the same response.”
He tried to imagine Hamilton Rivers in a pirate outfit and couldn’t. Ham was old-school cowboy, tough as nails and loyal to the land. He wore his boots from sunup to sundown and had more grit than a sheet of sandpaper. The only soft spot he had was for his daughter. And Rock had broken her heart.
If there hadn’t been enough animosity between the two families over their land before, Rock had sealed the feud by walking away from Quinn.
And now he had a chance to try to make it up to her. And to keep an eight-year-old kid from being disappointed. Even if it meant making a fool of himself.
He squinted one eye closed and tilted his head. If he was going to do it, might as well do it right.
Go big or go home.
“Aye, lass,” he said in his best gruff pirate impression. “I’ll be a pirate for ye, but don’t cross me, or I’ll make ye walk the plank.”
Her eyes widened, and she laughed before she could stop herself. An actual laugh. Well, more like a small chuckle, but it was worth it. He’d talk in a pirate accent all afternoon if it meant he could hear her laugh again.
She took a step forward, reached out her hand as if to touch his arm, then let it drop to her side. “All right, Captain Jack, you don’t have to go that far.” She might not have touched him, but she offered him a grin—a true grin.
Yeah, he could be a pirate. He could be whatever she needed. Or he could dang well try.
The front door slammed open with a bang, and Quinn jumped. As if on cue, her brother stepped out on the front porch.
Anger sparked in Logan’s eyes as he glared at Rock. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Chapter 2
Quinn was thinking the same thing.
What the hell was Rockford James doing standing in front of her? And offering to fill in as the pirate at her son’s birthday party, no less.
But the righteous indignation was hers to carry, and she held up a hand to her brother. “Rock gave me a ride home. That stupid car broke down again, and I would have had to walk the whole way if he hadn’t stopped to give me a lift.”
“Why didn’t you call me?”
“I forgot my phone.”
He gave a grudging nod to Rock. “Well, we’ve got it from here. Thanks.” He pulled the screen door open, then turned back and mumbled, “Sorry to hear about your head. That guy was an asshole.”
She felt Rock stiffen beside her. He obviously didn’t like to talk about it. But she was glad to see her brother being civil—maybe this could be the start of a truce between the Rivers and James families. She tried to keep a light tone in her voice. “Rock is coming to the party. He’s going to help out by filling in as the other pirate.”
Her brother raised an eyebrow, then shook his head, any remnants of a truce disappearing behind his scowl. “Like hell he is. We don’t need another pirate. And we dang sure don’t need his help.”
Leaving the bike on the porch, she automatically reached for Rock’s hand and pulled him up the stairs. “Too bad. He’s staying. Max wants a pirate, and I’m giving him a pirate.” The nerve of her brother, telling her what to do. She fought to hold back the eye roll. He was only two years older than she was, but she’d always be his baby sister. Annoying.
It wasn’t until they had stepped onto the porch that she realized she was holding Rock’s hand. The shock of touching his skin and having her hand in his after all these years took her breath away. His fingers curled around hers, making her hyperaware of the wall of male standing next to her.
“You heard the lady,” Rock said with a smirk.
She led him through the house and into her bedroom, where the other costume was. It was strange having him in her room again.
He looked around with interest. “Wow, you’re still in your old bedroom. You’ve changed it up though. Got rid of the pom-poms and the boy band posters.”
Pushing the door shut with her foot, she dropped his hand as if it were on fire. “That’s because I’m an adult now. And a mom. I have my own boy, and he’s the one I cheer for.”
Memories of Rock being in this room with her flooded her mind, and her heart ached at flashes of recollection. Lying on the floor as they listened to music or worked on homework, curled on her bed kissing and touching in the frantic way that teenagers discover each other. The pictures in her head were as clear as if they had happened yesterday.
But they hadn’t. She pushed the memories away—back into the spaces where she kept them, sealed off so they couldn’t hurt her. That was the past. She needed to focus on the present, on Max and the birthday party that was going to start any minute now.
She pointed to the pirate costume laid out across her bed. The outfit consisted of a thin muslin shirt, a faux leather vest, and a pair of brown, striped pants. A long scarf served as a belt, with a black hat and a sword completing the costume.
“You can put that on. The guests will be here anytime, so we’ve got to be ready. If the pants don’t fit, just wear your jeans.” She glanced at his thighs, thick and muscular from years of ice skating. “Yeah, you should probably just wear your jeans.”
He chuckled as he reached for the hem of his T-shirt and tugged it over his head.
She sucked in her breath.
Holy hot cowboy. The guy’s chest was a solid mass of muscle.
The last time she’d seen him without a shirt, they’d been teenagers. He wasn’t a teenager now. He was a man with a man’s body.
The muscles in his arms flexed as he tossed the shirt onto the bed, and she almost choked at the size of them. He had the body of an athlete, toned and firm. A tattoo of his team’s logo covered the top part of his right arm. She hadn’t known he’d gotten a tattoo.
She didn’t really know anything about him anymore. Just the bits of gossip around town and the occasional stories she heard about him from his family or on one of the sports channels on TV. She wouldn’t admit it to anyone else, but she’d seen several of his games, watching him when he was on the ice and searching the player’s box for glimpses of him when he wasn’t.
She tried to look away but was mesmerized by his body, so foreign yet so familiar. Her gaze traveled over him, discovering new scars and marks that hadn’t been there before, that he must have earned in his years on the ice.
His hair was still a little too long, curling along his neck, but it had darkened to a dirty-blond color, and his eyes were still the same greenish blue. She’d always thought they were the same color as the pond they learned to swim in, a mixture of the shades, depending on his mood or what color clothes he was wearing.
There were so many new things about him, yet he still felt like the same guy that she’d grown up with—the one who’d shown her how to ride a horse, who’d tutored her in chemistry, and who had taught her how to French kiss. And he’d been quite a teacher.
He reached for the shirt on the bed, turning slightly, and she gasped at the mass of ugly purple bruising down the side of his rib cage. She reached out as if to touch him, heard his sharp intake of breath as her fingers barely skimmed his side, and quickly dropped her hand.
“Is that from the—” She didn’t want to bring up the fight again. Apparently, she didn’t have to.
A scowl settled on his face, and he swiped at the discoloration as if to wipe it away. “Yeah, I guess. It’s no big deal though—just a few bruises. We’re always getting banged up. These are already starting to fade.”
They didn’t look like they were starting to fade. But the subject obviously made him uncomfortable, so she let it go and concentrated on a problem that had just surfaced in her mind. “They didn’t send along any boots or shoes.”
He pulled the shirt over his head. It was snug, hugging his muscled chest and stretching over his thick upper arms. “My boots will do fine.”
She glanced down at his leather, square-toed cowboy boots. “A pirate wearing cowboy boots?” Oh geez—that sounded kind of hot, especially when the cowboy/pirate was Rock.
Stop it. This was the man who’d broken her heart—who’d left her behind. She wasn’t about to fall victim to his charming grin and a few well-toned muscles.
He tugged on the vest and picked up the long, red scarf, a baffled look on his face. “What do I do with this?”
“You tie it around your waist. Like a belt.” She sighed at his blank look and took the scarf. Sliding her arms around him, she wrapped the scarf around his waist and tied it in a knot at his hip. Her hands shook a little as they brushed over his hard abs, their solidness visible through the thin shirt.
Taking a step back, she picked up the sword from the bed and passed it to him. They needed to get out of her bedroom. She could try to push the memories away, but the ghosts of them as a couple—as young lovers—were thick. As if their souls were floating in the air, taking up all the space and making it hard for her to breathe.
The sound of a truck coming up the driveway pulled Quinn from her thoughts. Thank goodness. The guests were starting to arrive.
The door of her room burst open, and Max rushed in. “Mom! Mom! They’re here! Come on! The party is starting!” He grabbed her arm and pulled, then stopped when he caught sight of Rock.
He pushed his small glasses up his nose and grinned at her. Her heart did that gushy mom thing it did every time her son smiled because she’d gotten something exactly right. “You found a pirate.”
That smile on her son’s face made every awkward moment with Rock worth it. “Yep, this is Captain…um…James.” That was original. She gave Rock a small shrug of her shoulders, hoping he would play along. “He sailed the seven seas to be here for your birthday party today.”
Max’s eyes widened as he looked at Rock. “You’re a pretty big pirate,” he whispered.
Rock puffed out his chest and lowered his voice, affecting a deep, pirate accent. “Aye. That’s from spending so much time working aboard me ship, matey. I heard some scallywag named Max was having a party, and I thought I’d stop by for some rum.” He glanced up at Quinn. “Er, I mean some grog. You got any grog, boy, or am I going to have to make you swab the poop deck?”
“You said ‘poop.’” Max dissolved into giggles as Rock wielded his plastic sword in the air. “You’re funny.”
He was funny. Was he seriously still doing a pirate voice?
She tried to keep from laughing, but the sound of Max’s giggles was too much. Shaking her head, she looked down at her son. “Why don’t you go say hello to your guests, and I’ll try to find the Captain here some grog.”
