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“I’d rather get bucked off a bull every damn day than drink that shit.”
A flirty smirk on his lips, eyes partially obscured by a worn cowboy hat, and the pièce de résistance . . . Wrangler jeans that hugged all the best parts.
This part of the country prides itself on farming and rural life. Calgary is home to one of the biggest rodeos in the world. Hell, some people call the city Cowtown for how tightly tied the ranching and farming community is to the city.
And maybe they’re right. Maybe the average Canadian doesn’t truly understand the backbreaking work that goes into farming. Into stocking our grocery store shelves.
Deep brown hair that shines an almost mahogany color when the sun hits where it’s twisted into a tight bun on the crown of her head. Her black-rimmed glasses are a smidge too strong on her dainty, doll-like face, but her almost over-full lips painted a deep, warm pink somehow balance them out.
“You’re not Peter Pan, Rhett. You won’t be losing your shadow. Not for the next two months.”
“And Eaton, that girl is my daughter. My princess. So, mind your goddamn manners, keep your hands to yourself, and stay the hell out of trouble, yeah?”
I hang back for a few minutes, because when Summer Hamilton tells me to jump, I refuse to respond with, How high?
We don’t look at each other as we walk, but he touches my shoulder gently and gestures me across his body. He moves me to the opposite side of him before taking up position by the road.
“Realize that I’m on your side. I don’t want this to be miserable. I don’t want to embarrass you. If you let me, we can be a team rather than fighting the entire time. Use your head.”
Summer: Want to come to the gym with me? It will be good for you. You can’t just lie around all week. Rhett: Are you my new personal trainer now too? Summer: Will that make you feel better about me being here? Rhett: Maybe. Summer: Well, then, I’m whatever you want me to be. Rhett: That’s a dangerous thing to say.
There’s something about a man who is damn good at what he does that holds an appeal for me. Every step is sure. Practiced. Full of confidence.
“Because I’m more myself on the back of a bull than I am any other time. I’ve only ever been a bull rider.”
“You were incredible tonight. You should be very proud of yourself.”
Safely on the sidelines, the first place my eyes go is to where Summer was sitting. For the second night in a row, she’s on her feet, whistling like a grizzled, old sports fan. It makes me laugh. When she sees me laughing, she gives me a timid thumbs up, followed by a shy smile. And fuck, it feels good. Because that—right there—is not part of her job description.
“Keep up, Princess. Kill me, don’t kill me. At least you’ll be warm. You’re with me tonight.”
“The only thing you should be sorry for is not telling me you were an ice cube. I should have knocked on your door earlier,”
“Here I am, a man in his thirties and no matter what I do, people treat me like I’m a child. Like I’m irresponsible. And worse, they treat me like I’m stupid. And my job is to grin and ignore it because why? Money? That’s how people want to see me? It’s exhausting. All I wanted to do was ride bulls and chase that high that made me feel something. That high that gave me control of my destiny for a full eight seconds. Like I held the room’s attention for a brief moment in time. And now I’m here bending over backwards to appease the masses because I’ve become some sort of household sex symbol or
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Winter all frigid and biting. Summer all warm and soft.
“Are you hiding because your sister is a grade A bitch or because I now know that I’m your teenaged spank bank fodder?”
“I’m finding I don’t really care what people think where you’re concerned.”
His pinky finger wraps around mine tenderly before he moves his hand to the small of my back, guiding me safely across the road and making my chest flutter.
Summer: Please don’t do anything stupid while I’m at the staff meeting. I trust you to hold it together for one afternoon. Rhett: Shit, Princess. I don’t know. I might go crazy without you. Summer: For ducks’ sake. Summer: Duck Summer: *Duck Summer: FUCK. Ugh. Why can’t my phone learn that word? I’ll be back around dinnertime. Rhett: Quack.
“It’s more like Ebenezer Scrooge, Captain America, and I’m the cool guy from Tombstone who can twirl his guns really well,”
“And I’m Captain Canada thank you very much. Oh!” Beau slaps his thigh in the saddle. “No, no, no, I’m Maverick from Top Gun.”
If her face was a little more Please fuck me, sir and a little less I’m going to kill you, I’d be hard at the mere sight of her.
just . . . I’m trying to do a good job. I’m trying hard not to let anyone down. My dad. His business. You. It’s a lot of responsibility, and I kind of got tossed in the deep end with this gig.”
With everyone around me screaming his name and cheering for him, someone who’s been theirs for over a decade now, he feels like mine. Because he’s staring at me.
The answer is, I’d go full of regrets. I’d go knowing I’ve done everything in my power to make everyone else around me happy, but failed to deliver that same treatment to myself.
Kip: Hell of a ride tonight, kid. Rhett: Yup. Kip: What’s wrong? Rhett: Your daughter is what’s wrong. Kip: I don’t even believe you. That girl is one of the best people I know. And I’m not just saying that because I’m her dad. Rhett: Yeah, she is. That’s the problem.
This time, I stand straight up, catching sight of Summer as she pulls Emmett’s cowboy hat off and plunks it on her head as they head over to the bar across the room.
Summer is tucking a shot into her cleavage when I get to her and knock that fucking hat right off her head.
Her hand darts out, and she holds up a can of whipping cream with a challenging glint in her eye. We’ve been dancing around each other awkwardly since that day at the fence. We’ve barely talked, but now she’s looking at me like she wants to do an awful lot more than talk.
“You wear the hat, you ride the cowboy.”
I opt to take the bull by the horns. With one step forward, my hand darts out and I yank the saddle-brown cowboy hat off his head and place it on mine. His leather and licorice scent rushes in around me, and I sigh.
“You know what I’m sick of, Summer?” His hand comes to my throat, fluttering over the skin so gently that I arch toward him to increase the pressure.
“Having you think I’m out fucking everything that moves when I’ve looked at nothing and no one since the first day I laid eyes on you. I stepped into that godforsaken boardroom, and you practically demanded I become obsessed with you.”
“And not being able to use it the way I want to. To fill it the way I want to.” His voice is husky, but I barely have time to register it because the whoosh of the pressurized cream filling my mouth permeates the air between us. When he stops, he presses my chin back up, closing my mouth. “How does that taste, Princess?”
“Good girl. You wish that was my cum, don’t you?”
“Swallow, Summer.”
“Now, tell me honestly, Summer. If this were your last moment on earth, what would you want me to do?” I don’t even need to think about it. I know what I want from him. “Ruin me.” “Good. I’m about fucking done being a gentleman with you. And the only thing I’m ruining you for is anyone else.”
“Stop rushing, Princess. We’ve got all night. Save your energy, you’re going to need it.”
“Rhett.” My name on her lips. Fuck. It’s a prayer. It’s a plea. It’s my goddamn undoing. I kiss her cheek. “I thought I got off on hearing fans scream my name from the stands.” I kiss her temple. “But hearing you moan it?”
“I thought you hated milk?” she huffs out, all glassy eyed and eager.
“I’m developing a taste for it.” I growl as I lift her up, pressing her into the door and kissing her again.
“Do you want me, Princess?”
“Talk to me, Summer. You want me to fill this tight little cunt?”
“Nah, nah, nah. Don’t get all shy now. Legs wide open for me, Princess.”
Rhett Eaton. My teenaged crush. Rhett Eaton. Sex symbol. Rhett Eaton. Ladies’ man.
“Jesus. I’m going to pay for this tomorrow, aren’t I?” Rhett smirks. “If you’re not walking bow-legged tomorrow, I won’t have done my job tonight.”
