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Christ. To make matters worse, I grind the gears on the way out of her driveway.
That isn’t the only thing that’s grinding. My cock strains painfully against my jeans, no doubt wondering why I gave up a chance to get some action.
“No,” I say aloud. Apparently I’m now talking to myself. I’ve resolved not to get involved with anyone, even for a quick fuck, until I know it’s the real thing.
Maybe she’s the real thing.
Really? Did you see her hair?
Blonde with a lavender layer on top? Like some sort of pixie? Or a unicorn?
No, thank you.
I get back on the road and head to the ranch. I’ve spent enough time feeling sorry for myself. Time to get back to work.
I drive by Caleb and Brooke’s house. Looks like all is quiet. They’ve got a nice place. Homey.
Caleb and Brooke started dating back in middle school, though of course we’d all known each other since we started kindergarten. They were friends for a long time, knew each other’s families. They had a lot in common, including common goals. And now they have a beautiful family and a happy marriage.
Even Deacon and Lissy started out when they were kids. They had some ups and downs and then that big break up that lasted a few years, but it’s all worked out now. I’ve never seen two people who were happier or more in love. Deacon’s like a big teddy bear these days instead of a snarling grizzly.
No more jumping in the sack until I know a girl better.
And the girl I’m looking for is country through and through, wants a simple life, even if life on the ranch is hardly simple. But in many ways it is. Work hard, play hard, love hard.
Speaking of hard...my cock is still pressing against my zipper. Christ. I shift around in the worn seat of the truck before I head back through town.
I slow down to avoid any mishaps on Main Street. There’s not much traffic in Chickadee Ridge and pedestrians have a casual attitude toward crosswalks and most traffic signals. It’s not unusual to find yourself hailed by someone while you’re at a stop light and the next thing you know Julie’s sending a pie back to the Hope House kids at the ranch or Mrs. Murphy needs a ride.
She can drive just fine, but I think she likes it when she can persuade someone to be her chauffeur.
None of those things happen, thank goodness. Just what I need on a day when I’ve been embarrassed as hell already is for Mrs. Murphy, the eagle-eyed retired school librarian, to get in the truck and spot the wood I’m still packing in my pants.
I give myself a shake. I’m a grown ass man, for God’s sake. What am I doing letting that girl get me all flustered? It’s not like I’m some inexperienced thirteen year old. I’m Caleb Starr. I’m a stud.
But right now, my mind is spinning. My face heats with embarrassment as I think about her saying, “We’re going to need some lube, Caleb.” What the hell?
It’s a wonder I was able to walk out of there without hurting myself with my dick so damn hard.
But she’s not my type. She’s pushy and forward and obviously not from around here. She’s not ranch material, that’s for sure.
Like she’d want to live on your dopey old ranch anyway.
Hey, North Starr Ranch is beautiful. She’d be lucky to live there.
Okay, this is officially the dumbest argument I’ve had with myself, ever.
The light turns green and I carefully pull forward. Three women have just left The Trailhead Diner and they have that just-ate-too-much-pie coma look about them, but they make it to their car without incident or interfering with my progress, so I proceed along the street.
Someone calls my name and I look over to see Deacon, Lissy, James and Willow coming out of Mr. Kimmey’s hardware store. Deacon’s carrying a big box and James is carrying one nearly as large. Lissy waves and Willow pushes her hand forward like she’s hitting the horn, so I give her a little honk and she smiles with pleasure as she turns to her mom.
I slow down and ask if they need some help. “No, thank you, Uncle Caleb,” James pipes up. “Dad and I have it under control.”
Before I can stop myself, my eyes dart to my older brother Deacon. James is one of Lissy’s Hope House kids but last year when they ended up having their camp at North Starr Ranch, a bond formed between James and Deacon and now that Lissy and Deacon are married, they’re in the process of adopting James too.
I know Deacon loves Willow, his natural daughter, with the fierceness of a grizzly bear, but watching him guide ten-year-old James into young manhood has been heartwarming. And something I never in a million years thought I’d see.
Deacon gives me a nod. “You heard James,” he says, “We’ve got it under control.”
