“I’ll be there in a few hours, before the show,” I tell him.
“Okay, sweetheart. I’ll be behind the bar. Want me to order you some food for when you get there?”
“Yes, please.” I beam at him.
He pulls me in for a kiss, and when I slip my tongue between his lips, he pushes me against the front door, trapping me with his body. Pulling my knee up to wrap around his hip, I stand with just my toes on the ground. One hand under my thigh and the other wrapped around the back of my neck, Duke kisses me like a man parched and I’m the only water available. My body responds like lightning, the fire that has been burning low and hot flares between us and we burn in it together.
He presses his hips to mine, his cock pressing against me, drawing a moan from my mouth. I tilt my head back and he moves to my throat, sucking and biting. He lifts my other leg and wraps them both about his narrow hips, his hands grabbing my butt to hold me up. We are panting into each other’s mouths before we pull apart. I stare into his eyes and see the desperation there.
“Fuck it, I’ll stay home. We can go upstairs,” he whispers against my lips.
“No, we are going to watch Cash.” Pulling him harder against me, I kiss him gently. “It will be worth it, Grumpy.”
At my words, he steps back, dropping my feetto the floor, and nods his head before grabbing his keys. “Bye, sweetheart, I’ll see you in a bit.” He grabs my face, one more chaste kiss laid on my lips before he says reverently, “I love you.”
“I love you too.” And I close the door behind him.
With four hours to kill, I decide it’s time for an ‘everything’ shower. Gathering my supplies, I spend the next hour primping and prepping for the weekend filled with my men after way too long being restricted. Pulling on tight skinny jeans and a tank top, I buckle my belt, with a new fancy belt buckle at Cash’s insistence, and plop a white hat on my head.
I decide to finally investigate Cash’s room. He told me I could, but it was intimidating before now. Pushing the door open, I wander in and see his giant bed in the middle of the room, unmade. The excessive number of pillows seems to be a thing with him; I think his bed has more than mine. Diving into them, I snuggle down and take a selfie where you can barely see me peeking out.
Hey, Cowboy, so many pillows. I may need to claim a new nest.
Cowboy Cash
Hey, Hurricane, that looks comfy but awfully lonely. I can’t wait to be buried there, in you.
I mean WITH you.
He follows this with a winking face, and I laugh out loud.
Walking around, I pick up little trinkets and put them back. There’s a little wooden bull on his dresser amongst colognes and discarded scraps of paper. Plus a few random belt buckles. Dirty clothes fill the hamper and spill onto the floor. A messy cowboy.
Deciding to be super nosy, I pull open the drawer on his bedside table. I find a half-empty bottle of lube, a few cockrings which I raise an eyebrow at, a handful of golden foiled condoms, and a tiny bullet vibrator. Well, we will need to get rid of all of that, I think, sliding the drawer closed.
In the second drawer, I find an assortment of letters and pictures of fans, mostly women. The pictures are a little inappropriate. Mixed in with the souvenirs, I see a few pairs of panties, none of which are mine. I feel sick to my stomach at the sight.
I turn and leave the room. I know it’s hypocritical, considering our current situation, but a stash of women’s underwear and half-naked, or fully naked, photographs feel like betrayal. Is he still seeing these women? When did he last fuck someone else? I want to cry at my stupidity for thinking I would be enough for a man like Cash. He’s a fit, handsome, rodeo cowboy and I’m me; chubby, damaged, and not good enough. This is my fault; I should never have looked in his drawers.
Just another man I’m not good enough for. Duke’s ex-wife is damn near a super model and based on the pictures in Cash’s drawer, I’m not his type either. Sitting on my bed, I let the tears fall and consider my options. Am I the naive one here, thinking these men could possibly want me? My apartment is a no-go. Grabbing a bag from the closet, I throw a few days’ worth of clothes in and head downstairs. My brain wages war on me, screaming at me that I’ve never been good enough. Why should now be any different?
The dogs whine as I get my boots on, my bag by my feet. Tank lays down, resting his head on my bag and my heart breaks a little for the peace I felt here. Those girls were right, all those months ago. I don’t deserve a man like Cash—or Duke.
Walking out, I toss my bag in the backseat and get behind the wheel, thinking through my options. I don’t think I can go to Lizzie’s; I have no doubt she would let me stay there until Ifound something more permanent, but it isn’t fair to her to put her in the middle of Cash and myself.
Driving out of town, I hope I’m making the right decision. It’s going to destroy my heart to leave the men I love but they deserve better than a broken woman who is barely recovered from her ex-husband when the options before them are better. Cash deserves to find a woman without so much baggage to carry and Duke, my Duke, he deserves actual sunshine, not me pretending to be okay, caught up in the excitement of a new romance.
This will be better for them, even if it kills me.
Chapter 40
Stand by Me
Duke
I can’t believe I get to have her in my bed tonight. Or her bed. Whatever works for her. I just want to hold her in my arms, wrap myself around her, and never let go. Pouring drinks for the regulars and chatting with Sadie, I watch the minutes tick by for her to show up and bring the sunshine into my bar.
At a little after seven, I call over to Mable’s and place an order for a grilled cheese and fries for Caroline. It should get here around the same time she does. The rodeo is on the television above the bar and Cash should show around eight-thirty or so. She’s finally off the medications so she can have a drink if she wants.
