Page 57 of Brim Over Boot
Christ, even the guy’scockis cocky.
“Fucking Noah King,” I mumble. “It’s not gonna happen again, Clem. I never needed dick before. I certainly don’t need it now.”
I nod swiftly, lowering my hat over my face as I sink down into the straw.
Before I fall asleep, the image of me down on my knees flits hazily through my head, Noah standing in front of me, his hand curling in my hair andlittle Coltfalling like a whisper from his lips.
Only in the safety of my mind can I admit to the thrill I get from imagining him putting me there.
Messed up, indeed.
Thesharpclangofa bell has me jackknifing into a sitting position, my hat falling to the ground beside me as light assaults my eyes. Clementine is already standing, fully awake. It takes me a moment of blinking heavily to locate the source of the ungodly noise.
My mother, positioned in the doorway of the stall, sets down her cowbell. “Oh good. You’re up.”
“The fuck?” I mutter, looking around, trying to get my bearings. “What time is it?”
“Eight-thirty,” she tells me, passing over a thermos of what I assume to be coffee. “Better get a move on. You’ve already missed breakfast.”
“It’s the weekend,” I groan, closing my eyes again.
Something thwacks me lightly on the head. I glare at my mom, who’s smiling much too cheerfully. “Don’t know how you slept through the morning crew saddling up, Colton dear. But you best get yourself in gear. Unless… Don’t tell me you forgot about the trail ride you agreed to lead?”
Yes.
“No,” I answer, groaning as I pull myself more upright. “That’s today?”
“Mhm. Here.”
My mom passes me a covered plate. I peel the corner of the foil back, mouth pooling with saliva when I see the sausage links next to a rolled-up omelet and a couple dry pancakes.
“Thanks,” I mumble, snapping a link off in my mouth.
She hums again before clearing her throat. “You, uh, see Evelyn Jacobs again last night?”
It takes me a second—alongsecond—to figure out what she’s talking about. I cough around my bite of sausage, slapping a hand over the goddamnhickeyNoah left on my neck. “What? No! It wasn’t…”
My mom’s lips twitch, and I heave a defeated breath.
“You know what? Nuh-uh,” I tell her. “I’m not discussing this with you. Mybusinessis my own.”
“And every sighted individual’s within twenty feet of you,” my mom shoots back.
“You’re a mean person,” I say evenly. “Very, very mean.”
“Sure, dear. Lemme know if you wanna borrow some of my coverup,” she says, already walking away,laughingas she goes.
I shove another sausage link in my mouth with a grumble.
It doesn’t take long to finish my breakfast, and then I head to the ranch house to wash up. I manage to avoid my family as I go, which I appreciate greatly.
Not that I don’t love them.
I just don’t need their teasing right now.
Once I’m dressed and ready, my shirt collar hiding my bruised neck, I head back to the stables. I get the horses prepared for today’s riding tour, something we do only on the weekends. It’s rare for me to cover the trail rides, but I’m grateful for the distraction today. It leaves me less time to think about a certain dark-eyed farrier with stupid tattoos and even stupider lips.
Fuck.
