Impossible (6 page)

After about an hour of virtual silence, sweating, and riding, I was glad to see the barn come into view. Walking the horses back into the arena, we stopped at the fence, jumped down off of our respective horses, and tied them up (I copied Coleman since I had no idea what I was doing on my own.).

It was so freaking hot that I could feel the sweat trickling down between my breasts and settling around my bra strap. As I was thinking this, apparently Coleman had the same thought. I watched intently as he pulled his t-shirt over his head and threw it to the side, revealing the tattooed set of bull horns on his upper back spanning his shoulder blades. The way it was done made it look like the horns pierced straight through his skin. It was both freaky, in a ‘that could really freaking happen’ way, and cool as hell.

When he turned toward me again, I grumbled my petulance. “That is so un-freaking-fair. I want to take my shirt off, but being a woman makes that more complicated.”

A smile broke out across his face as he gestured graciously with his hand, his every movement flexing his perfect eight pack of abs. “By all means, take yours off. I don’t mind at all.”

I just bet he didn’t.

Maybe I was suffering from heat stroke, maybe I was losing my mind, or maybe I was just tired of caring at all. Whatever the case, I took us both by surprise by reaching down for the hem of my shirt and pulling it over my head, leaving myself exposed except for the coverage of my plain black bra.

“Holy shit.”

The look on his face was more adolescent boy than well-experienced man, and I knew that wasn’t the true story. “Give me a break. You’re gonna try to act like you haven’t seen hundreds of sets of these? Even your mother knows you have.”

He pretended to be offended as he said, “Hey, I’ll have you know that I haven’t seen...okay, yeah. Probably hundreds.” Giving me-
and my vulnerable girls
- a look that could take away your virginity, he finished, “But baby, they never get old.”

Rolling my eyes, I said, “I didn’t take off my shirt for you, I did it for my girls. They’re freaking dying out here. It’s a million degrees.”

His eyes stayed locked directly on my chest, unabashed, while he muttered, “Hot summer days are my new favorite thing.”

A smile lit his face, a direct result of our teasing banter (and likely his unobstructed view), but promptly slipped off when he processed what I had said about Nan. “Wait. Did you say...?” Within a span of just a few seconds, I watched as he fought an internal battle with himself, finally making a decision. “ No. Don’t tell me. I absolutely don’t want to know the reason that you’ve had a discussion about this with my mother!”

“Let’s just say your anti-innocence hasn’t fully escaped her notice.”

His eyebrows raised in question, he waited for me to respond, but there was an underlying pain on his face, like he was truly afraid of the answer.

“We saw Debbie last night. A discussion was had. End of story.”

Shaking his head slightly, he focused on the part of this conversation that he was comfortable with. “Two nights in a row of you bein’ shoved down Debbie’s throat? I bet she loved that.”

“I’ve had people look at me with kinder faces.”

That caught his attention, so he turned to me and gave me his complete focus as he asked, “She say anything to you?”

His face was hard, not toward me, but as though he would be exceptionally upset if she had given me real problems.

I shook my head and waved him off with my hand. “No, she just looked at me. Really, it wasn’t a big deal at all.”

He grinned again, the tension fully sliding out of his body, and murmured, “You scared her two nights ago. Funny.”

Tipping my head slightly to the side, I questioned, “How is that funny?”

“I’ve been trying to get Debbie off of my case for a while now, but one statement from you, and she’s resigned herself to just givin’ looks. I owe you one, Banty baby.”

I rolled my eyes at the same time that I fake-grumbled, “Fine. I’ll give you this one, but don’t expect me to become your personal ‘Get Rid of Skanks I’ve Slept With That I’m Ready To Scrape Off’ service.”

With a shrug of one shoulder, he immediately responded, “Okay.”

With skepticism tainting my face, I asked, “Okay?”

Collecting his features into a serious arrangement, he muttered breezily, “Yeah, if you’re gonna do it, we’ll have to come up with a better name for it. ‘Get Rid of Skanks I’ve Slept With That I’m Ready To Scrape Off’ is way too long.”

Wait. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Maybe we’ll just call you ‘The Exterminator’. Getting rid of unwanted pests and all.”

My signature scowl returned, and I retorted, “These ‘pests’ were invited.”

“Yeah, well, that’s why you’re there. Invitation rescinded.” He reached out and grabbed my shirt, yanking it right out of my hands on the word “rescinded”.

I held out my hand, silently demanding my shirt back. “You sound an awful lot like an asshole right now.”

“Yeah. But you like it, right?”

Shitdizzle. I did. I liked it. So help me, but he was one of those endearing assholes. The ones you loved to hate and hated to love, all at the same time.

When I didn’t say anything negative in response to his question, his gaze turned serious, heated even. Being that I was currently topless, I noticed it even more.

As a shiver ran down my spine, he gathered my shirt in his hands, working it so that he had the neck hole opened, and then held it out to indicate he wanted to put it on me.

Ducking my head, I inclined in his direction and gave into his whim of dressing me, slowly putting my arms back through the sleeves when my head cleared the crew neck collar.

He stayed in my space, only a few inches away, and whispered softly, “If I didn’t put that on you, this would have gone further than you’re ready for.”

“What would have gone-”

Before I could finish my question, he leaned forward and touched his lips to mine. The moment his soft lips met mine, I felt the electricity run through my entire body. It seemed appropriate since this was the equivalent of shocking me back to life after years of no sexual activity whatsoever, but it was still a surprise.

My eyes fell closed, and the world around me faded completely away. The way he moved his lips over mine, with so much reverence that I thought I might collapse, made me tingle and sway gently. I was completely in the fog he created when his tongue moved smoothly from his mouth to mine, the tip just barely caressing the tip of mine before retreating. My hands moved automatically to the tan, smooth skin of his back, and my fingertips flexed at the feeling of emptiness that settled over me when his tongue left.

Giving me one last touch of his lips, he moved his hands from my hips to my jaw as he pulled back. “Sweet Christ, Roni,” he whispered.

Goosebumps immediately broke out all over my skin. I didn’t even know that was possible when you were sweating your ass off, but somehow it happened.

Remarkably, after years without even one kiss, and the years before that filled with only one man, it still fell so natural-
so right
- kissing Coleman.

Holy scariness, Batman. It was time to get out of there.

“I need to go.”

He chuckled, actually
chuckled
, and murmured, “Yeah, I bet you do.”

I narrowed my eyes and pinched his arm. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Banty. Only thing you do more than fight, is run. I’ve been waitin’ for it all day, and if you felt that kiss even a quarter of how much I felt it, I’m surprised you’re not already gone.”

Ugh. Did he think he knew everything about me already? A fire burned from my eyes, as I got right in his face, my voice low and grumbly. “What makes you think you know me at all, Coleman?”

Smiling huge, the jerk, he bit his lip and then said, “I don’t know you
really
well yet-”

There was a gleam in his eye that made me narrow mine. “-but I’d like to know more. Though, it would seem that I knew enough to execute the sleuth maneuver I just did.”

Breathing fire, I got on my toes, as if that would make me more menacing when I was a good foot shorter than him, if not more. “What maneuver, asshole?”

His face beaming with pride, he tucked my hair behind my ear and stated, “You’re cute, Roni. You know that?”

Working my jaw, I didn’t dignify his question with an answer, but instead waited for him to get on with his explanation.

After several seconds he smiled even bigger, gave in, and explained, “You love a good fight, Banty. I just tapped into that instinct by rufflin’ your feathers a little bit, and you ran with it instead’a runnin’ out on me. Gave me a couple more minutes to look at that pretty face of yours, even if it is twisted up into a serious scowl.”

Son of a bitch. He had already learned how to play me. Even though it was a little late in the game, and was surely the exact action he was expecting, I turned and started to walk away without saying anything.

As I walked I could hear his laughter in the background before he shouted out to me, “By the way! I can also tell you aren’t really that mad because you called me Coleman. If I’d really pissed you off, Cade would have rolled off your tongue.”

Throwing my middle finger over my shoulder, I kept right on walking, my eyes on the ground and my mind blank.

That was normal for me because I was good at blanking my mind and forcing memories to the East Bumblefuck section of my brain. But that wasn’t the only thing that was habitual, and my fingers did the talking. And for once, they went somewhere other than my scar. My lips.

I could still taste the mixture of sweet tea and sexiness from his tongue.

Someone might tell you that sexiness isn’t a flavor, but that person definitely hasn’t tasted Coleman Cade.

Shit. Dizzle.

Chapter 6

Jerking awake like always, my heart racing and my breathing ragged, I worked through the strange combination of intense unease and heightened arousal I was experiencing.

Last night I had gone to the grocery store and gotten food so that I could sequester myself in my hotel room until I could get out of town. I ate and watched TV, anything to keep my brain occupied, until I fell asleep. Now, it was time to face the music. I had tried to give interacting with people a try, and it had gone too far. Now I had to get out of here.

I had had my normal nightmare, but this time I had followed it up with a sex dream about Coleman. That was an unbelievably strange, twisted, freakish mixture, and it had my stomach churning like none other.

What kind of games was my subconscious playing on me, making me relive losing Josh and then throwing some mind blowing sex with a
different
man on top of it? Sex that had not been had. Sex that
would
not be had.

I wiped the sweat off of my forehead, and in doing so, reminded myself that I still had stitches I was going to have to get taken out. Counting off the days on my fingers, I concluded that the nurse I scorned had told me to get them removed in a week and it had only been three days. Four if you counted the day I left the hospital and today. I still had time.

Throwing the covers back, I jumped out of bed and headed for the shower. I had a few things on my checklist today: get up and showered, get my research done, and get the hell away from Coleman Cade and his sex filled mouth. I would eat and really get ready for my chase once I was a safe distance away.

********

Sighing deep and long, I pulled into the parking lot of the Eat-N-Go, just off of Highway 87 in Oklahoma, and parked in a spot towards the back of the lot, resting my head on the steering wheel. It taken me four hours of hard driving to feel like I was far enough way that it was safe to stop. I knew I was full of drama this morning, but I was still aroused from the dream and I could still feel his freaking lips on mine. Distance was key.

Turning the key to the off position, I lifted my head off of the steering wheel, brushed my hair back off of my face, and then tucked it behind my ears.

I was in my standard outfit of cargo pants, a t-shirt, and cowboy boots, and I was back to my standard solitude. Kicking the door open, I jumped down, slammed it shut, and trudged my way to the door as raindrops hit my face. They were a welcome feeling, cool against my skin in contrast to the hot, sticky air, so I didn’t run like most people do- like I used to.

Grabbing the metal handle on the door, I pulled it open and stepped into a direct blast of air conditioning. Okay, so maybe the stroll through the rain hadn’t been such a good idea. Plus, someone needed to tell them they were losing a ton of money in utilities by having a vent right over the door like that.

I approached the hostess stand, and she gave me what was, quite frankly, a creepy smile.

Ignoring it, and doing my best to keep my voice even, I said, “Table for one, please.”

Motioning for me to follow her, she took off to the bowels of the restaurant, deep in the dark back corner, and part of my brain screamed at me that she was planning to kill me back there. This is where things always went wrong for the woman in the movie, stupidly letting down her guard and trusting the one hundred percent creepy person just so she wouldn’t be rude.

I had no problem with being rude, and my reasoning spoke for itself, but I kept walking because I was hungry and I never listened to myself anyway.

When she rounded the corner to the last booth, my body slammed to a squealing stop, but my traitorous heart started to run full force.

What was he doing here?

Noticing my lack of motion, Coleman got up, approached me, and practically dragged me to the table muttering, “Thanks, Jaclynn.”

The previously creepy Jaclynn had turned coy, looking at him from under her lashes and giggling.

Good grief
. I don’t know if there was a female alive who would be on my side here. I was also pretty sure this was the reason I had picked up that murderous vibe from her- unabashed jealousy.

My voice only slightly laced with hostility, I muttered, “Do women ever squeeze their legs closed around you or do they always just let them fall right open?” As I spoke, I brought my hands together in prayer position and then popped my fingers and palms apart, the heels of my hands still touching, for emphasis.

A smirk settled on his face as he gave me an unnecessary answer to my rhetorical question. “Well, I haven’t been between
your
legs...yet. Now sit your ass down and eat, Banty baby.”

I sat down, but as I did, I questioned, “What in the hell are you doing here?”

He shrugged his shoulders, the absolute picture of casual, and said, “I followed you.”

“What? Why on Earth would you freaking follow me, you stalker!”

His face turned serious, and a thinly veiled cord of accusation ran silkily through his voice. “Trust me, they were the four scariest hours of my life. And I ride bulls for a living! You drive like a crazy person. Seriously, bat shit, round the fuckin’ bend, crazy.”

“I drive a lot!” I said defensively, and then added, “And you didn’t have to follow me. That was your own, personal, crazy psycho-stalker choice.”

He leaned forward, his eyes intent and his every movement focused. “Would I have seen you again otherwise?”

Freaking shitdizzle.

A look must have passed on my face because he sat back, put his arm along the back of the booth, smirked, and declared with a strong, steady voice, “Exactly.”

Shaking my head almost violently, I said, “No. You have to go home. I’m going on a chase today.”

He smiled his most boyish smile, the one that reminded me of CJ the most, and retorted, “I’ll go with you.”

No way. I would be so distracted with him there. However, I couldn’t tell him that. It would stroke his already-enlarged ego far too much.

Instead, I hedged, “If you come with me, what are you gonna do with your truck?”

He waved it off, again super blasé, as if having his truck four (more like five for most people) hours away from his house was no big deal.

“We could end up anywhere. Then, not only will you have to wait for me to head back in the direction of Huntsford, you’ll have to come the extra distance to pick up your truck,” I continued to argue.

Surely that would convince him not to come.

“I’ve got the week off of the circuit, so I have lots of free time. Plus, I could get on a plane or have someone pick me up if it were really an issue. We’re good. I’m coming.”

“What about CJ? You should spend your time off with him.”

“Baby, if you think he isn’t pushin’ for this,” he said while gesturing between the two of us. “-you’re nuts. It was my idea to follow you, but he practically pushed me out the door.”

Crap, crap, crap. I searched and searched the recesses of my brain, but I couldn’t come up with anything else to use for my side of the argument.

Defeated, I decided it was time to face reality.

I guess I had a new wingman.

“Well, if I end up getting you killed, you’ll only have yourself to blame,” I grumbled.

He bit his lip and shook his head minutely just before responding, “I’ll take my chances. Besides, I’m confident in your ability. Your ability to chase storms that is. Ability to drive...not so much.”

“Hey, you’ll appreciate my driving when we have a funnel closing in on us, hail and God knows what else pounding the car, and you realize I’m your best chance at survival.”

“I don’t doubt it, Roni.”

“And you have to be quiet. You know, try not to distract me.” As if he wasn’t distracting when he wasn’t verbal.

“Roni.”

“What?”

“Relax. You might actually end up enjoying the company.”

Um,
yeah
. That’s what I was afraid of.

Nonetheless, I expelled a puff of air and whispered, “Right. Relaxing now.”

“Good. Now let’s eat.”

Maybe he was a freaking magician, or maybe the cute little blonde waitress had been waiting for a cue from him, because not a second later she appeared at the table, ready to take our order.

Having either a particularly childish moment, or perhaps an aneurism, I reached out and squeezed Coleman’s hand in a possessive showing, before smiling at him and murmuring, “Make sure you get something energy sustaining, honey.”

His eyes hit mine, and they didn’t leave them the whole time that he ordered. “I’ll take the steak, medium, and a loaded baked potato. Sweet tea to drink.”

Oh. My. God.

My eyes locked on his unique ones, unable to pull away, like they were loaded with freaking magnets, and I muttered, “Same. Except I’ll take a Coke.”

I needed the caffeine.

Blondie got the message and scuttled away, so I tried to reclaim my hand. But Coleman wouldn’t let it go.

He lowered his voice to a serious, extremely heartfelt timber and murmured, “One day, baby, you’re gonna call me honey, and it’s not gonna be for show.”

My throat bobbed as I forced it to swallow, and I looked down at the table, embarrassed by what I had just done. I had actually let myself react to another woman giving him attention, for the second time, and it made me look crazy. I was pushing him away at the same time that I wouldn’t let anyone else have him.

Shaking my head, I let my shoulders sag as I muttered, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Roni, I don’t want you to be sorry for claiming me, I just want you to be sincere while you’re doin’ it,” he said, his voice dripping with hope filled sincerity.

For such a strong, physically intimidating guy, he was so freaking soft. So playful, so generous with affection. So everything I wanted. And everything I didn’t think I could handle.

Being completely honest, I whispered, “I don’t know that I can do that.”

His words were steely when he answered, “I’ve got time.”

I couldn’t comprehend it. I didn’t have low self-esteem, but this man could have anyone. And I meant that in the literal sense. Men, women, anyone would be happy to have him. Anyone who’s heart hadn’t already been shattered.

“Why would you wait for me?” As much as I had tried to keep my tone light and even, it unmistakably came out downright incredulous.

His eyes flickered, and when I saw it, I knew I was going to get a real answer. One that would probably scare the shit out of me.

Mesmerized by him, I watched as he settled in and gave my hand a gentle rub of his thumb before he started his speech. “Because, my little Banty rooster, you challenge me when no one else will. You’re fuckin’ beautiful and have a hot little body, but you put absolutely zero effort into it. You’ve got a sweet side that you just barely let out, but when you do, I can tell it’s one hundred percent genuine. We’ve shared one kiss, and it turned me on more than all of the women I’ve been with in the last six months combined. And I’m talkin’ tits swingin’ in my face, dick buried deep inside these women. Your kiss did more.”

Jesus.

Flabbergasted by his outright, maybe even gruesomely vivid, description, I had to work to catch my breath, but he kept right on talking. “You do somethin’ awesome with your time, chasin’ storms and the adrenaline that comes with that. That speaks to my interests and tells me how smart you are.”

Barely pausing to take a breath, he continued, “You made an impression on my kid the first time you met him, so much so that he called me and told me about you, and he’s never mentioned a woman other than my mother since his own left. Translation...never. Not to fuckin’ mention, the first time I saw you, I just knew. Call it whatever you want, but I had a feeling so strong and distinct that there was no mistaking it.”

I could barely feel my body, let alone form a coherent response, so he kept talking, taking the pressure off of me. “Look, I know there’s a lot I don’t know about you, but I
want
to know it, good, bad, or ugly. That’s how I know it’s worth it.”

My heart thrummed painfully in my chest at the idea that this magnificent man thought all of those wonderful things about me. I felt a little bit like I’d just won the lottery; undeniably excited, but worried about all the people that would hound me now that I had the money.

One thing was clear; I wasn’t getting rid of him anytime soon. I might as well enjoy the ride as much as I could for now and deal with my issues when I got to them.

Relaxing into my seat, I let him keep my hand. I figured that was the first step toward making an effort, and it really did feel nice. We sat in comfortable silence until my plate unceremoniously clattered to the table in front of me. I made sure to note that Coleman’s plate got set down gently in front of him.

After shooting me a glare, our waitress left, and I felt compelled to mention, “You know she probably spit in mine, right?”

A smile lit his handsome face, and without saying anything, he picked up both of our dishes and switched them, setting his down in front of me.

I raised an eyebrow in question, so he responded, “Positive reinforcement, Banty. Training 101. If I want you to repeat your possessive behavior, I have to reward it, not punish it. I think spit filled food would be considered punishment. Therefore...” He let his words drift off, but I got the picture.

“But now your food is potentially spit-filled.” After all, this was only an
alleged
crime.

He didn’t bother to answer me verbally, but instead, shrugged his shoulders, cut off a piece of his steak, and stuck it in his mouth.

Obviously he wasn’t worried about it, so my thoughts about it stopped there.

Glancing down at my watch, I realized what time it was and that we needed to hurry. “Eat fast. We have to get going. Lots of research to do.”

We finished the rest of the meal in silence, both eating as quickly as our digestive systems would comfortably allow.

As we were paying the bill and standing up to leave, Coleman muttered, “If her spit was the main ingredient in that, I’m gonna have to switch dishes with you more often. It was delicious.”