Page 22 of Rough Ride with the Grumpy Cowboy
For these two, she’s parted with half a million dollars, which is quite hefty, but she’s getting her money’s worth.
“So are you a thoroughbred too?” she asks in a sultry tone, doing a complete 180, leaving me stunned.
I blink in confusion, wondering how I’m supposed to respond. Don’t get me wrong, she is a beautiful woman—captivating blue eyes, long legs that must come with the trade, a curvy body, and a smile that would have any sane man keeling over. But that’s where the problem lies: I’m not a sane man, and at the moment my mind is filled with thoughts of one woman—one I’m not supposed to be thinking about.
Before that night five years ago, I used to be what Ella used to describe as a walking-talking STD because I was always a bit of a flirt and never allowed myself to settle down for one woman. I thought I was going to finally do so with Ava, but that went up in flames, literally and figuratively, so I just never bothered to put myself out there again.
I’m flattered that Miss Rowe here finds me flirt-worthy, but she’s barking up the wrong tree. I have no idea how to turn her down without being rude and ruining future business, so I wave Duncan over to take it from here.
I turn to her with a polite bow and shake her hand. “Miss Rowe, it was a pleasure doing business with you. I have other duties to attend to, so Duncan will take care of you from here,” I excuse myself.
She seems disappointed by this, but the deal is already done, which means I’m done as well. Duncan is all smiles, chatty personality—definitely the perfect candidate to deal with her.
I head back into the stables, relieved that I was able to dodge that bullet.
The thoroughbreds being picked up were my main focus of the day, and since I’ve successfully managed to do that, I get on with my much simpler duties, including a check-in at the Sunset stables.
An hour later, I’m done, and I realize that I still have a lot of time left on my hands before I can call it a day, so I take a moment to mull over what to do to kill time. Usually I’d go for a ride, but I’m not really in the mood for one, especially given how hot it is, and I already did that yesterday, which leaves me with one option.
I punch in the code at the door and push the door open, sauntering into my own personal haven. I flip the switch, bathing the room in light. I look around at all the exercise equipment, stopping at the one in the middle of the room. I pull the cover off it to reveal a mechanical bull. A smirk etches onto my face as I take it in.
Even though the doctors told me that I would never be able to ride again, I have been secretly training once my body fullyhealed with the hopes that one day I will be strong enough to get on the back of a bull. My body might be physically scarred from the accident, but I believe with everything in my soul that my riding days are not over.
I take my shirt off and switch out my pants and boots for a more appropriate outfit for working out. While I’m in here, just like when I’m riding, I’m able to switch off my brain and focus on training my body for a moment that I know will surely come.
I lose track of time as I focus on strength training today. Every muscle in my body is telling me to stop, but I’ve come too far and I will not stop until I’m on the back of a bull in an arena full of people cheering me on.
Some time later, I am so focused on a calisthenics exercise that I fail to notice that I have company until I hear a loud gasp behind me. I lose my balance and fall ungracefully. Thankfully, the exercise mat below me breaks most of my fall.
I turn around and sit up to find Ava standing in the middle of the room, one of her hands clasped over her mouth and the other one pointing at me. I don’t need to be a genius to know that she’s taken aback by my scars. They cover most of my torso, back, and thighs. It’s not a pretty sight, but it’s not meant to be. Once upon a time, my tattoos attracted the most attention with my clothes off, but after the accident, the scars take the lead.
She is giving me the same pity look I hate getting from people, and it rubs me the wrong way.
“You... those...” she trails off incoherently.
They are ghastly, I know. She should have some of her own, but she’s wearing long sleeves, so I can’t see. I jump to my feet, pissed that once again she has managed to barge into my personal space.
“What are you doing here?” I ask through gritted teeth, marching toward her.
She takes a step back, and once again she is trapped between me and the weight bench behind her. Why do we keep ending up in this position? Oh, I know—that’s because Ava has no concept of boundaries and isn’t listening when I tell her to stay away from me.
Her eyes look up to meet mine, and something she sees makes her quickly look away. “I-I...” she stutters, making no sense.
I clench my jaw, trying to rein in my anger. “Ava...”
She wrings her arms nervously as she explains herself. “I was taking a walk to clear my head when I saw that the door was open. I didn’t expect to find you in here.”
I thought I locked it when I walked in. Seems not.
“Your curiosity has been satisfied, so get out,” I demand.
Instead of doing as I ask, she stands her ground bravely. Looks like she still has some defiance left in her. That’s cute. But now is not the time or place.
“Maybe so, but since you’re here, I thought maybe you and I can finally talk and...”
I cut her off. “You thought wrong.”
“Please, Zane.”
