Текст книги "Cole"

Автор книги: Tess Oliver

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Chapter 20

Cole

Between work, motorcycles and horses and Kensington’s volunteer time at the equestrian center, we didn’t, as far as I was concerned, have enough time together. It was the first time I’d ever felt that way about anyone.

We were starting our Saturday together at a freestyle motocross contest. Denver and Rodeo were competing, and I was there to watch and learn. I’d already had plans to watch the contest but wasn’t completely sure Kensington would be up for it. But I’d forgotten how damn cool she was. She was even excited about it.

We’d had what could have been called autumn for about three days, but now we were back to the sun beaming down on the parched California earth with no clouds or breeze to soften the blow. Most of the stands were filled with a sea of fitted hats, sunglasses and the usual FMX cluster of fans.

We’d found space on a bench just two beer bellied, bearded guys from the bleacher steps. Max and Bobby were decent enough seat neighbors, friendly and not shy about checking out Kensington. We’d only seen the warm-up, and already, Max, clad appropriately in a pair of loose-fitting, ass-crack revealing sweat pants, had been downing nachos and hot dogs as if today were the last day on Earth that they’d be serving food. Bobby was a little more subdued on the food chowing, but he said fucking hell a lot.

Kensington reached over and grabbed a nacho chip from my plate. She wriggled her ass on the metal bench of the bleachers in an attempt to get comfortable. “Now I see why my mom always carried around that embarrassing butt pad when she came out to watch a horse show.”

I picked up a chip and licked the cheese drip off before it fell back onto plate. “You could sit on my lap, but I’d probably end up dragging you back to the truck for a front seat make-out session.”

“That might be a problem in broad daylight.” She chewed her chip and untwisted the top on her water bottle. “So, it’s the best of two runs on this jump course? Then the judges give a score up to one hundred based on the tricks?”

“Fast learner. But I already knew that.”

“It’s a little like competing in a horse show, where you ride your horse through a course of fences.”

“Except the horse has a mind of its own. And the motorcycle doesn’t.”

She shrugged. “True, but if your horse is well-trained and you’re a good rider”—she pointed to her head—“you become one with the horse.” She smiled. “As long as a squirrel or gust of wind or some other terrifying, unexpected event doesn’t break that bond. Then, yes, they have a mind of their own, and it’s not always a rationally thinking one.”

The announcer’s voice barreled down on us from overhead speakers. Denver was the first rider on the course. The crowd gave a big cheer. He always came out looking cool and relaxed as if he was just about to stroll a city block instead of ride a freestyle course. It was one of the reasons the crowd liked him so much.

“Denver is so smart,” Kensington said. “He was telling me about the app he’s working on to keep track of vitals when a rider is running a course.”

“Yep, that is our Denver from Boston. He rides and competes smart too. It’s like he’s calculating distance between jumps. He’s really precise with speed and lift. He knows when to risk it and when to back off. I’ve only seen him get hurt a few times, and they were just flukes. Now, Rodeo is a whole different kind of rider. He’s a good competitor, and he takes crazy chances, which you sort of need to do in this sport. His hair on fire attitude is a plus and a minus for him. He’s had plenty of trips to the emergency room.”

Kensington took my hand and laced her long fingers between mine. “What kind of rider are you?”

I thought about the question. “I guess I’m right between the two of them, semi-smart and semi-hair on fire.”

Denver started with a Superman seat grab flip and moved on to a lazy boy.

Kensington watched with excited interest. “See, I never jump a horse while taking both my hands and feet off. That’s crazy. Talk about being one with the animal you’re riding, even if it’s a motorcycle.”

Denver rode the course almost like a machine, perfect precision and no sign of hesitation. His final jump was a kiss of death backflip, and it raised a roar in the crowd.

Kensington glanced around and turned to me. “That looked fun and scary. It was good, right? I’m going to assume by the big cheer that Denver did well.”

I loved that she wanted to know about the contest. “He did. Not the best I’ve seen from him, but he’ll get a good score for sure.”

Denver waved to the crowd and rolled back toward the pits, where his team was waiting for the results. My eyes surveyed the crowd, not for any reason but to see who was there. My gaze smacked right into Nate Harkin’s angry scowl. He was six rows up and over a few seats. I glanced over at Kensington, but she was too busy taking in all the sights. She’d been to motocross races but never to a freestyle contest. She was curious about everything and always in a good mood. It was damn refreshing to be with a girl like her. I’d been with too many uptight whiners. Just thinking about some of them made me shake my head.

Kensington caught the movement and smiled at me. “Who are you shaking your head at?”

“Myself. I was just thinking that if I had a dollar for every minute I’d wasted with women who really weren’t my type or any fun, for that matter, then I’d be a rich man.”

She raised her smooth brow at me. “As opposed to what you are now?”

“Right. I’ll rephrase that, if I had a minute back for ever minute I’d wasted with boring, uncurious, complainers, then—then I’d be ten years old right now.”

The stands vibrated with a cheer as Denver’s score of eighty-eight went up on the digital sign.

Kensington pointed at it. “If it’s out of a hundred, then he did well, right?”

“Yeah, most riders would be stoked about that score, but I know Denver and he’s never happy with ‘good enough’. He always has visions of a perfect score floating through that busy brain of his. But a hundred is a rare score for anyone, even Denver.”

After a few more riders, the announcer called out Parker “Rodeo” Stevens. Kensington stretched up to see Rodeo as he rode out of the pits. “He looks kind of amped up, but I guess he’s always like that.”

“Yeah, he’s got an entirely different style than Denver. He’ll definitely throw the bike up there for some gnarly tricks without much fear or concern for consequences. But then his moves aren’t as refined, and the judges like to see things tight.”

“From the few times I’ve talked to him, I could see him out there breaking colts as a kid. He seems to thrive on the possibility of a painful calamity.”

I laughed. “Painful calamity. Shit, I need to start writing this stuff down in a book.” I leaned over and kissed her. “And I’ll title it ‘cute as hell Kensie sayings’.”

“The fact that you’re so entertained by my vocabulary makes me wonder just what kind of cardboard women you’ve been dating all this time.”

“Cardboard women, there’s another one for the book.”

Rodeo’s signature entry song “Sympathy for the Devil” blared through the speakers as he rolled to the start. “That boy does know how to make an entrance,” Kensington spoke over Mick Jagger’s infamous howl at the beginning of the song.

The song always got the crowd vibrating, making the spectators as amped up as the rider. Kensington took my arm and scooted closer. “To tell you the truth, I’m feeling a little jittery about watching him ride. That was what my mom used to call her case of nerves whenever it was my turn on the jump course.”

“Nah, he’ll be fine.”

“Kensie?” a deep voice said from behind. Kensington tensed next to me, and I didn’t need to look back to know it was Harkin.

Harkin moved down a step to be even with our seats. He didn’t care that he was interrupting the contest or Bobby’s sight line. But Bobby cared plenty.

“Hey, buddy, do you mind? I’m trying to watch Rodeo’s ride.”

Harkin glanced back toward the course and rolled his eyes. “You could just find a fucking circus clown on YouTube and get the same experience.”

Max lifted his meaty hand and pointed at Harkin. “Hey, aren’t you that—”

“Nate Harkin, four-time Supercross champ,” Harkin said smugly.

“Whatever, but weren’t you the motherfucker who cut in front of everyone in the hot dog line?”

Kensington covered her mouth to stifle a laugh.

Harkin sneered at Max. “Yeah, and from the looks of it, I didn’t stop you from getting your usual dozen dogs. Now, shut the hell up. I’m here to talk to this girl, not you two.”

Rodeo was at the first jump, but I’d pulled my attention from the course. I was done listening to the jerk. “Look, Harkin, these two friends of mine, Max and Bobby, paid good money to watch this contest. So unless you’re going to pay them back for their tickets, get the hell out of here and leave us alone.”

Bobby lifted his soda toward me in a silent toast.

Harkin stared at me, his jaw twitching in rage and his nostrils flared wide enough to suck in the tiny gnats from the air.

Kensington, who’d ignored him until now, let out an irritated huff. “Go away, Nate. There’s nothing for you here.”

Harkin flinched at her words, but his hard scowl was skewered to my face. “You and me, King, you spoiled, candy assed rock star’s mistake. Which one of Nicky King’s groupie whores was your mom, anyhow?”

“Actually, my mom was Nicky King’s accountant and second wife. But I don’t know why the fuck I’m bothering to tell you. Just leave, Harkin.”

He stayed there looming over us like a bristly thorn in our otherwise great day. The crowd sucked in a collective breath. Worst of all, he’d taken Rodeo’s ride to come and blow his blustery crap all over us.

I leaned forward past Kensington. “Hey, Max, what happened? Did you see it?”

“Yep, he was doing an Indian air, one handed, and the landing was a little hairy.”

Harkin was still standing over us. He was like that itch under a broken arm cast that you had to try your damndest to ignore.

“One day, King, we’re going toe to toe,” Harkin said.

I saluted him. “Looking forward.”

He walked away.

Max pulled out his phone. “You’re Nicky King’s son?”

“I am.”

Bobby and Max fist bumped each other. “Just need a selfie with ya, or the wife won’t believe me. You don’t mind, do you?” Not waiting for an answer, Max leaned over and squished Kensington between us as he held up the phone and snapped a picture.

Just as he lowered his meaty fist, Rodeo and his bike came into view. He was a good thirty feet up in a backflip, then he let go of the handlebars and held his arms straight up like a kid on a roller coaster ride. The rubber side of the bike was down as he grabbed the bars just a little too late to stabilize them. The wheel turned sharply to the right, and Rodeo was pitched headfirst to the dirt. All sound sucked out of the arena, and the crowd got to their feet. Rodeo rolled like a rag doll several feet. He was out cold.

Chapter 21

Kensington

It was hard to see past the sea of heads and even harder to see past the crew of medics in bright orange vests surrounding Rodeo. I could see his boots. They looked splayed at an angle that made me certain he wasn’t awake yet. I’d been knocked unconscious twice after falling from a horse, and both times I could remember waking to a circle of worried faces, my mom’s included. But I never knew how long I’d been out. A good knock on the head can put you out for a few minutes, even with a helmet.

Cole’s face was frozen with worry as he stood tense and silent next to me. He had a much clearer view over the heads, but the medics blocked him from knowing what was happening on the ground. As heavy as my chest felt at seeing him so distraught about his friend, a little voice was also telling me, this guy, unlike so many other guys I’d dated, including the one who’d just stomped away in a little boy huff, had a soul. Cole’s empathy and concern for Rodeo only made me like him that much more.

A huge round of applause went up. Cole’s shoulders relaxed as some of the tension dissolved from his body. “He’s awake. Let’s get down to the pits and wait for him.” Cole took my hand, and we scooted past Max and Bobby.

Bobby obviously noticed Cole’s sense of urgency. “Is Rodeo a buddy of yours?”

“Sure is.” Cole hit the steps at a jog. I trotted down along next to him. The medics were still on the course, and Rodeo was stretched out at the base of the dirt hill. One medic was leaned down talking to him, while another was checking his limbs for movement and feeling.

Denver was standing at the entrance to the pits, holding a tablet. “Our boy just got his bell rung.”

Cole was more relaxed, and seeing Denver seemed to further ease his tension. “Sure did. What do you think, doc?”

“Looked to me like the only thing that hit the ground was his head, and we know that’s full of rubber. I think some aspirin and some sympathy from one or more of the hot girls in his contact list and he’ll be up, around and as annoying as hell like always.”

They were both making light of it now, but I’d seen the looks on both their faces just seconds before. They’d been worried about their friend. Another round of applause signaled that the injured rider was up and walking off the course on his own, with the medics following close at his heels.

“Let’s go wait under the awning,” Denver suggested. “I’ve got some drinks in an ice chest. Kensington looks like she could use one. They’ll have to give Rodeo a thorough once over to make sure all the marbles are still in place, so it’ll be awhile.”

Cole and I followed Denver back to the pits where his team had an awning set up for shade. “I take it his competition is over for the day,” I said. “Since he was knocked out and all. We can’t get back on the horse if we’ve blacked out. Or is it different with motorcycle contests?”

“Nah, he’s done for the day,” Cole said. “And he’ll be plenty grumpy about it too. Rodeo’s just the type of rider who wants to jump back on the bike and try it again to fix what he did wrong.”

Denver handed Cole and me each a water bottle. “Yeah. Cole, remember that time when he broke his wrist so badly, his hand didn’t even look like it was attached to his arm, and he got back on to do the practice course again.” Denver shook his head.

Cole took a sip of water. “He has way more balls than sense. Figure that came from being bounced around on the saddle too much.”

A motorcycle was being rolled into the pits.

“Here comes his bike,” Denver said. “Doesn’t look too bent up.”

The awning provided a great reprieve from the insistent sun. The temperatures had climbed to the nineties, and there were no clouds to provide intermittent relief. Cole and I sat in the chairs while Denver headed over to talk to Rodeo’s mechanic.

Cole reached over, took hold of my hand and brought it to his mouth for a kiss. He was expert at small, unobtrusive gestures of affection that kept my heart fluttering. While sometimes romantic gestures could seem forced or smarmy, Cole’s always seemed genuine. He’d grown up in a lifestyle that was, no doubt, completely unlike most guys, but he never acted like an arrogant asshole. And after the short, unpleasant conversation with Nate, I greatly appreciated that.

“I was thinking we could drive to the coast tonight and have a little repeat of our first date at the beach house. Preferably with some kinky variations added in.”

“Kinky variations, you say? Oh shoot.”

“Or not. Doesn’t have to be kinky. Just fun.”

“No, it’s not the kinky suggestion,” I laughed. “Can’t believe I just said that.” I looked pointedly at Cole. “You are one of those boys my mom always warned me about, Mr. King. That’s probably why I like you so much.” He had on dark sunglasses to hide his great hazel eyes, but the rest of his face was so damn handsome it made me want to give him a little pinch to see if he was real. “Anyhow, the farrier is coming to shoe my horses tonight. It’s really hard to reschedule with him. He’s in high demand.”

“I know what that’s like.” Cole sat forward. His tattoos twisted as he stretched his muscular arms in front of him. “We don’t have to drive out to the beach. We could hang around town. I’ll come by your place around six.”

“That should work.”

Denver headed toward us. A decidedly less amped up Rodeo was walking next to him. He had on his black sunglasses and fitted hat. All his protective gear had been removed, and his dirt stained shirt hung loose around his shoulders.

Cole and I stood up to greet him.

“Bro,” Cole called to him. “You’re among the living. I’m glad cuz it’s your week to mow the fucking lawn.”

Rodeo stuck his middle finger up at him. He marched past us and plunked down in a chair.

“Would you like a water from the ice chest?” I asked.

“Nah, I’m good.”

“Why so grumpy?” Cole asked. “You didn’t think you’d still be competing today, did you?”

“Why the fuck not?” Rodeo asked. “The bike’s fine.”

Denver walked over and sat on the ice chest. “Yeah, but you’re head isn’t.”

“How is that different from any other fucking day?” Rodeo sank down farther in the chair like a sulking teenager.

Cole looked at Denver. “He has a point.”

Rodeo sat up and forward now. He was angry and disappointed but the medics had, no doubt, made the right call.

“Shit, you know how many times I got bucked off a colt and woke up five minutes later to climb right back on. Didn’t have any monster sized helmet on either. Just my black Stetson. Maybe it’s time to head back to Montana where they’re not a bunch of fucking worry warts.”

“Don’t know what to say, bro,” Cole took on a more sympathetic tone. “Guess you just need to rant and get the steam out of your engine. We’ve all gotten hurt out there on the track. It sucks, but you’ll get past it. There’ll be more contests.”

“I’ve got to get my gear on for my next run.” Denver patted Rodeo’s shoulder. “If you’re up for it, we can head over to Nick’s Saloon later. A few beers and some heavy flirting will take off the edge.”

“Hey, Denver from Boston,” Cole called as he walked away. Denver looked back at him.

Cole lifted his chin. “Give gravity the finger for us out there.”

Denver nodded and walked toward his bike.

Chapter 22

Kensington

The farrier’s truck rolled out of the gate. I grabbed the broom to sweep up the hoof filings he’d left behind. He’d taken longer than I’d expected, and I had only a few minutes to shower and get ready for Cole to pick me up. I’d been with him most of the day, and I couldn’t believe how excited I was at the prospect of seeing him again. If all had been going along like my usual dating history, I should have already been bored, or turned off or irritated by him. But I wasn’t. Not in the slightest. The opposite in fact. The more time I spent with him, the more I liked him. A first in my rather pathetic dating life.

A chorus of low, content horse snorts followed me as I carried the broom back to its rack on the barn wall. Deep voices rumbled just outside of the stables. I recognized my dad’s laugh. He stepped into the breezeway, and Cole stepped in behind him.

“Dad, I thought you and Mom had already left.” I’d planned to be showered and dressed and parent free by the time Cole came to pick me up. I had only briefly introduced him to them once. Mom wasn’t great at hiding her opinion of people, and since Cole didn’t look anything like her idea of the perfect, polite and proper son-in-law, I expected her to show her obvious distaste and embarrass the heck out of me.

“We were just on our way out the door when this nice young man came walking up the front steps. You don’t bring Cole around enough, Kensie.”

Cole grinned. “Yes, Kensie, John and I were just talking about a golf day. My dad plays a little golf too. Of course a few of the country clubs have him blacklisted.”

Dad bellowed out a loud laugh.

I was slightly speechless. “Uh, where’s Mom?”

Dad knew exactly why I was asking. “Your mom is waiting for me. I wanted to make sure Cole found his way out to the barn all right.”

The massive red barn would, of course, have been impossible to miss. But I knew my dad well enough to know that he was having a good time teasing me with this.

“Well thanks, Dad. Have a good time with Mom.” I walked him out of the barn. “Was Mom civil?” I whispered from the side of my mouth.

“Like a blushing schoolgirl. Your mom was quite the Nicky King fan in her day.”

“I did not know that. I just can’t match a rock and roll groupie with the woman standing in our house in her austere pumps and fitted Chanel suit.”

“She had some fun days. You know, before she became that Chanel suit lady.” He leaned over and kissed my cheek. “Have fun tonight.” He looked into the barn and waved. “We’ll talk soon about golf, Cole.”

“Looking forward, sir.”

“I like him.” Dad winked at me and returned to the house.

I walked back into the breezeway. “I just need to close up my office.” As I went to sidle past Cole, his arm shot out and he pulled me to him.

“Thought we’d never be alone today.” His mouth covered mine for a long, deep kiss. Like always, I became putty in his arms. My body sank against his, and I reveled in his body heat, his soapy scent, his touch.

“Exactly where is this office you mentioned. I’ve always had a fantasy about an office desk and a hot executive with a pencil behind her ear and high heel shoes clacking against an office tile floor.”

I leaned back and peered up at him. “You’ve been watching porn, haven’t you?”

He lifted his hands. “Guilty as charged. But it’s been awhile.”

“Right. Awhile.” I stepped out of his reach. He plodded behind me to the tack room slash office at the back of the barn.

“What can I say? My dad has the largest and most impressive porn collection on the west coast.”

I glanced back over my shoulder at him. “Source of family pride? And how do you know it’s the most impressive?”

He shrugged. “Because he’s Nicky King. Who would have a better collection than him?”

“Point taken.” I stepped inside the office and waved my hand around with a flourish. “Not exactly sexy. And as you can see, the desk is hardly big enough for my stuff, let alone for a satisfying round of sex.”

Cole stood in the center of my shabby office, looking rather large and intimidating in the small square space. He glanced around. “I don’t know. Looks pretty sexy to me.” He walked over to the wall with the saddles and tack and smoothed his fingers along a pair of reins. He breathed in deeply. “Something about all these straps and chains and that overwhelming scent of leather is kind of turning me on.” He walked back over to the desk and gazed at me in that way that always made me feel as if I’d forgotten to button my blouse. “Of course, you could be standing in the center of a morgue, and I’d be sporting a hard on.”

“You had me at leather but lost me at morgue.” I walked to the front of the desk and leaned against it.

He crossed the room, and without touching me, managed to stand close enough to make every fiber in my body react to his nearness. I could feel my heart tumbling against my ribcage as it once again rushed to keep pace with my erratic pulse. Cole affected me profoundly, both physically and mentally.

Discretely, he reached for my hand. “Waiting for one of those long words that makes me extra hot for you. I think some highbrow vocabulary will work well with my office fantasy.”

“You mean like—I tend to be too loquacious.”

“Yeah, that’s it, baby. Can’t pronounce it, but it sounds very fucking erotic.” His arm wrapped around my back and our bodies pressed together. His erection strained behind the fly of his jeans.

I smiled up at him. “It means I talk too much.”

“See, that works.” He reached up and his callused thumb snagged my bottom lip and dragged it down a bit. “To me, anything that involves this mouth is erotic.”

I snuggled harder against him. “Proving that you can make anything dirty if you just put your slightly warped one-track mind to it.”

“Guilty as charged.” He reached down to my pants and unbuttoned them. “Now take off those boots and these jeans.”

I leaned against the desk and yanked off my boots.

“Just in case we’ve got any snoopy, tattle tale horses out there.” He walked over, slid the door shut and turned back to me as I slid off my jeans.

“Tattle tale horses?” I asked suddenly feeling a little nervous and completely excited about his office fantasy.

“When you’ve lived long enough with Some Pig, you begin to realize that the animals are far more cunning than first thought.”

He returned to his spot right in front of me and pushed my panties down with one finger. I stepped free of them. The slightly stifling air in what was no more than a box stall added to the heady feeling his hungry gaze was stirring up. He fished a condom from his pocket and dropped it on the edge of the desk.

Without touching me, he reached past me and pushed some of my desk clutter out of the way. My stapler clattered to the floor.

“Oops,” he said, before grabbing my waist and hoisting me up onto the desk.

I leaned back on my hands as he lifted my feet onto the top. My knees dropped open, inviting him to touch me. Which he did. His fingers slid into my hot wet pussy as he leaned forward to kiss me.

“Warned you, baby,” he grunted, “I’ll never have enough of you.”

He fumbled open his jeans with his spare hand and pushed them down below his hips. I braced my hands on the desk behind me, as he coaxed me close to climax with his probing fingers.

“Damn, I can’t hold out any longer.” He grabbed the condom.

I watched with impatience as he rolled it on. “If this becomes a sure thing, then we can talk about going condom free.” It was something I’d never said to anyone. He paused and I worried that I’d just scared him off with the mention of a sure thing.

Instead, he pulled my legs so that my bottom was hanging off the edge of the desk. He stared at me with a heavy heated gaze as he slid slowly inside of me. “Far as I’m fucking concerned, baby, this is a sure thing.” He pushed in farther. I held my breath at the feel of him entering me with such slow, delicious precision.

I kept my hands braced on the desk and wrapped my legs around him. He rocked against me as he reached down between our bodies to stroke my clit. It took him only seconds to bring me to a shuddering orgasm. My arms wobbled beneath me as I held my body against his thrusts.

My head was still spinning from coming. The feel of him bringing himself to climax inside of me made my eyes ache with tears. I was overwhelmed with it all. All I could think was that this all felt so right. Maybe I’d finally found the man who wouldn’t disappoint me.