Page 53 of The Cowboy's Second Chance Bride

He nodded toward Kyle. “What’s with pants that tight? He can’t be comfortable, and if he is comfortable, then he can’t be a man with man-sized parts.”

“Oh, I hadn’t noticed his front,” I said. “I was too busy staring at his butt. That’s probably the best butt I have ever seen on a man.” This time, Cal stumbled, and I laughed. “What’s the saying? I could bounce a quarter off that, it’s so tight?”

“That ass is a trampoline—bounce a quarter, and never find it again,” he snarked.

“You seemed bothered by this. Self-conscious about your ass?”

He flexed both arms, making his biceps pop. “And I’ve got scars. Chicks dig scars.”

The song switched to a two-step, and without thinking, I put up my hands, and he took me into his arms like he’d done a thousand times before. He turned me around a full circle, then pulled me in as we glided across the dance floor instantly in sync.

“Puh-lease, everyone has scars. That there is a unicorn butt. A rarity.” I was teasing, yet based on the sudden furrow of his brows he had yet to figure that out.

“I think you’re in a vulnerable state right now; it’s impairing your taste,” he said tightly, his gaze avoiding mine.

The hand that had been gently caressing my hip suddenly tightened with tension. Two words came to mind: mixed signals. We’d had a great day at the community center and were now doing something we had loved to do as a couple. I was in his arms. There was chemistry between us. Yep, mixed signals.

“Hey, Cal?”

He finally looked at me.

“I’m going to say something that is up front and maybe uncomfortably honest. Okay?”

He nodded slowly like he was not sure he wanted to hear it.

“I think Kyle has a thing for Cricket. He can’t stop looking at her. And he’s her type. Your app matched them. So I’m thinking of how I can get them to talk. But that’s not the honest part. Right now, there is no one I’d rather be hanging out with than you. This moment right here is better than good.” I squeezed the hand that had our fingers entwined.

He visibly relaxed as he pulled me a smidge closer, his grip loosening. “Good, because there is no one I’d rather spend my time with than you.” Then he rested the side of his face against my temple, and I melted into him.

And I decided to just enjoy this. Because right now was the exact feeling I’d been chasing for years, and who knew when I’d have it again?

ChapterTwenty-One

CAL

The ranch foreman’s wife went into labor same day as the cows. Typically, there was little to do, as the heifers did all the hard work, but the foreman monitored the cows to make sure they were progressing, and I took on this responsibility when the foreman left. I used to help my grandad with this when he ran the ranch. Sometimes we’d spent the entire night in the barn, taking turns sleeping—the hay a soft bed—as we made sure all the heifers were okay.

Since the attack on my company started, I’d often asked myself who would I be if I lost my company, because if that happened, I would have lost my purpose. And who was I without that? I’d begun to think this little side trip to the ranch was showing me exactly that.

The day my dad had showed up at my hotel room in Vegas, I knew something bad was about to happen. There were storm clouds in the sky and a rancid smell in the air. When he’d laid out all the papers—his plans on what he’d do to Travis and Sabrina if I didn’t walk away—I’d been stunned. For years, I’d raged against my dad, exclaiming that he didn’t know me or what I wanted, but he sure knew that night. He hit a home run with his threat. His only mistake was to not attach the contingency that I work for the company. So I’d done as he asked and then disappeared from his life—from everyone’s, really—disgusted with every part of what had happened and with myself.

It had always confused me that a guy who could not have cared less for his family was so determined to keep us close. Was it to hurt us? Yeah. To control us? For sure. And maybe also because he was a paranoid SOB, and whether he liked us or not, we were blood, and only blood could get his company. But I wanted no part of it and no part of him.

Sabrina was the first thing I had ever wanted and hoped for. And he’d forced me to give her up. And now he knew every whack he took at her was like a gunshot to the heart for me. That was why he was hitting her hard. I would have bet a part of him wanted me to keep my company. I rubbed elbows with some of the richest and most powerful people, and good old Dalton Beckett would see that as a benefit. Then we’d handed him my Achilles heel on a silver platter.

I rubbed my chin as I tried to separate my emotions so I could go at this strategically. I stared at nothing, lost in thought, as I sat on two stacked bales of hay and pondered. Then I noticed that Rod, next to me, was rubbing his chin as well.

I pinched my nose. He pinched his.

I faked a yawn, and he did the same.

I did an over-the-head arm stretch. “I am a weasel, and my name is Rod.”

He’d started mimicking me before I finished the sentence. “Hey, I’m not a weasel!”

“Gotcha, though, didn’t I? What’s up with you?” This kid. He worked better than some of the hands, and he certainly knew the ranch well.

“What do you mean?” Rod lay back on the bale of hay with his hands under his head.

---