Between the Pines (Black Springs Ranch, #1)

by Amber Palmer

Stumbling upon my boyfriend balls-deep in a blonde buckle bunny after one of the largest rodeos of his career was one hell of a lesson to learn.

His red flags were a mile long, flying high for all to see from the very beginning. But red was my favorite color, and I had a stubborn streak a mile long.

I was a simple man with simple beliefs. I’d never held much stock in that lovey-dovey bullshit people clung to, talking about soulmates and destinies. It was just a way for folks to feel better about their lives. But this woman? Something told me she could make me a believer.

“Yeah, actually… I’m thinking about what it would be like to fuck this pretty mouth. How I’d want to see it dressed in some pretty color only to fucking destroy it and then proudly wear the remnants around my cock so I could see precisely where you’d been.”

I learned from an early age what eavesdropping would get you. That was how I found out dogs didn’t just go to a different farm to live out the rest of their days.

“Please?” I asked, taking a step forward. It was hypocritical to want to steal his moments, especially when I’d been trying like hell to run away from him only moments ago. “I want to know.” He turned, showing me the outline of his profile. “I was gonna ask if you’d waited for me like I’d been waiting for you.” And then he walked away, leaving me standing under the weight of his honesty and hating how it felt.

“Hey!” I said, raising my hands in the air. “He’s not my anything.” They both turned and stared at me, with a shared look that said, really bitch? And in their defense, they might have been right. Some part of Lincoln felt like mine even when he wasn’t.

He used a pair of tongs to pull a piece of turkey bacon from the pan, holding it up with a grimace. “I don’t know what I did to deserve a punishment like this. How’s a person supposed to get used to this? It’s shit.”

“Break up with that piece of shit you call a boyfriend, and I’ll tell you every sordid detail. Then, when you’re writhing underneath me, just like you are right now, I’ll make good on every word I said.”

“So, you haven’t passed first base,” she said, counting off her fingers.

“You won’t call him your boyfriend.” Another finger. “You think about Lincoln when you bean it.”

“What? There’s not a good word for female masturbation, so I made one up.”

I knew she was talking about the dancing, but it felt like more. It felt like she was talking about us—how things may have been complicated now, but maybe they didn’t have to be.

All I know is some things are certain—the sun will set, it’ll rise again, and you’re it for me. That’s just the truth.” I took a deep breath and laid down my last card. “And I think you feel it too—otherwise, you wouldn’t have told your sisters it would always be me.”

“I’m not gonna break her heart,” I mumbled, glancing back at the table. “But I’m afraid she’s gonna break mine.”

He waited until I was buckled in before jogging to the driver’s side. He placed one hand on the steering wheel and the other on top of the console, palm up. Without thinking, I reached over and interlaced our fingers, and settled back into the worn seat.

For thirty years, I’d been waging a war against myself. My mind was a cruel bitch, relentless in her pursuit of my downfall. She teased and taunted me until I was left with nothing but a sea of doubts. Today was the first day I’d tell that bitch to shut her mouth and go to hell.

“That hat on your head means you’re mine, Josie. There are no takebacks, not as far as I’m concerned. So, don’t do that to me and then take it away. Don’t fucking tease me, baby. I can’t take it.”

“Hm, I don’t know… Those naked mole rats are pretty weird. Have you seen them? They look like someone stuck teeth on a ballsack.”

fell in love with you the moment you walked into this little bar tucked between the pines.”

“Thanks so much for the dances! My friends are headed back, though, so I’m gonna…” I trailed off, shooting finger guns in his direction. Maybe Bishop’s onto something. Why am I the way I am?

spat as two large arms wrapped around my middle. The scent of sage and honey and very bad decisions filled my senses as I was pulled tightly against a warm, broad chest.