“Hi,” Greer says with a huge smile, her face full of excitement and anticipation of tonight. I suspect it has less to do with me and more to do with having a night off of being a parent. Either way, I don’t care. She’s officially a sight for sore eyes.
Before stepping foot inside her house, I have to get one thing straight, though. “Are the kids here?”
She shakes her head. “Nope. Joie picked them up at noon—”
Before she can get the next words out of her mouth, I attack her like a starving man. My lips on hers, my hips pressed against hers, my fingers in her hair. Nipping at her bottom lip, her mouth parts just slightly and I take that as my invitation to enter. I should take my time. Should be a gentleman. But alone time is so infrequent, the only thing I can think is to take advantage of it.
She doesn’t seem to mind. Pressing her into the wall so our bodies are aligned, I press my tongue into her mouth, tasting her, caressing her, enjoying her.
We stay that way for several minutes, her hands tugging me tight to her, small moans falling from her lips when I press my pelvis into hers so she knows exactly how much I’m looking forward to tonight. I take it by her response, she’s excited about all our prospects, too.
We see each other a couple times a week and it’s never anything special. Just quality time spent together. But tonight is different and we both know it. Tonight, there’s no time limit. Tonight we can stay out late or go home early. Tonight, we answer to no one, so I take advantage and enjoy the feel of her, the taste of her, the smell of her.
When I think I’m about to combust, I force myself to pull away, but not too much. I don’t want to completely lose this connection. Instead, I press my forehead to hers and lick my lips.
“Hi,” I whisper, still feeling the surge of hormones racing through me, but holding tightly to my control. I have plans for tonight that don’t’ include ripping her clothes off and having my way with her in her front hallway. With her door wide open.
“Oh shit. Your door is still wide open.”
I turn to grab the handle and slam it, her giggling behind me. Honest to goodness giggling, which I’ve never heard her do before. She laughs. She chuckles. But she’s never giggled like a school girl with a crush before.
I spin back around slowly, quirking an eyebrow at her. “Are you… nervous?”
Her face turns pink with her blush as she stammers “What? Why would I be nervous?”
“Because I asked you to pack an overnight bag.” I stalk towards her, enjoying that she’s as on edge as I am. I don’t like playing games, but flirting like this is making the anticipation that much more fun.
She presses herself back against the wall keeping her eyes glued to mine. “I’m not nervous about spending the night.”
“Oh you’re not.” I box her in, leaning in as much as I can without actually touching her. We’re so close, I can feel her breath on my lips. I know I’m pushing my own limits, but I can’t help myself. The prospect of this evening combined with an empty house and her taste now on my tongue has me questioning my own resolve.
“No.” She toys with my collar, straightening it absentmindedly. “I’m ready.”
“Are you sure?”
She nods and then says the words I wasn’t expecting. “I went and got waxed just in case.”
Aaaaaaand my brain shorts out.
I can practically feel sparks coming from my ears. I’m sure my face goes completely blank as I blink. And blink again. And blink one more time.
“We need to leave,” I grit out and pull my body away from hers quickly.
This time she just laughs. No giggling. She knows how she just affected me. It was part of her evil little plan. A plan I can totally get on board with.
“Wait.” She grabs my arm and spins me around, her thumb coming to my lips. “I don’t think this shade of lipstick is your color.”
I smile as I watch her concentrate on wiping her lipstick off my mouth. I love being this close to her. I love making her smile and laugh. I love how effortless it is to be with her. We can spend an hour at night talking about an interesting topic. Or we can spend an hour having a silent lunch in the park enjoying the sunshine. We’ve done both.
“There,” she finally says. “Good as new.”
Never taking my eyes off hers I whisper, “Thank you,” and give her another quick peck.
“Hey!” she protests. “Don’t dirty yourself up again.”
“Sorry.” I’m not sorry. Looking around, I see a duffle bag on the floor by the door. “Are we bringing this with us?”
Her blush returns. “Um, yeah. I know we talked about being presumptuous, but since I’m not under any time constraints tonight…”
“Greer,” I stop her, putting my hand on her cheek making her look at me. “Nothing has to happen if we don’t want it to. Actually, if you don’t want it to because I already know I won’t turn you down.” She giggles again and I admit how much I like hearing it. It’s endearing that she’s nervous about spending the night with me.
“I know. It’s just… it’s been a long time.”
“For me, too.”
She nods and takes a deep breathe. “Well then let’s go. You need to wine and dine me and see if this goes anywhere from here.”
My heart swells, along with another appendage. I don’t give her a chance to change her mind. I grab her duffle, then grab her hand, and out the door we go.
~ ~ ~
“I can’t believe you brought me here,” she squeals. “I’ve always wanted to go to a real Texas rodeo. I didn’t even know it was in town.”
Her cheeks are flushed and her eyes bright as she takes in the arena. There’s a lot to look at. From the professional riders to the rodeo clowns to the people watching, she hasn’t looked at me once since we sat down. There’s just too much excitement. That’s what I was hoping would happen. That she would enjoy herself.
“What? There’s at least one ad every commercial break these days.”
She shrugs. “I don’t really watch TV. I don’t even have cable.”
I scrunch my eyebrows together. “Then what do you watch?”
“Nothing really. I’d rather read. We have one of those internet stick things so if we want to stream something we can.”
I think for a second but I’m still confused. “But our first date, Jack was watching sports.”
“Jack set the whole thing up since I’m not that technologically inclined. Who knows what he found. It could have been old games for all I know.”
She continues to look around, taking it all in. “So what are we going to see anyway?”
“Whatever we want. We can go see the farm animals or ride the carnival rides.”
She scrunches her nose, clearly not thrilled with that idea, making me laugh.
“What? Not a fan of rollercoasters?”
“Oh I love rollercoasters,” she says. “Ones that are actually bolted into the ground permanently. I have the weird obsession with not flying through the air and landing in the parking lot.”
Squeezing her shoulder because she’s so close and yet I can’t help wanting her even closer, I laugh. “We’ll stay away from the fairgrounds then. You might like the events tonight anyway. They’re starting with Mutton Busting in just a few minutes.”
She looks at me for the first time since we sat down. “Is that where the little kids ride the sheep?”
I nod, grinning at her because I know she’s going to love this event. “Sure is. It’s like a miniature version of bull riding, but with little kids. To win, they have to stay on for six seconds.”
As soon as the words are out of my mouth, we see a group of kids all dressed in protective gear cross through the arena. Sure enough, the sheep are being set up in the stalls, ready to take off and run.
“Can’t they get hurt?” Greer asks, concern on her face.
“I guess they could. But really, they’re only like two feet off the ground. I’ve been watching Mutton Busting for years and I’ve only seen a hand full of kids cry. And usually it’s from getting dirt in their mouths.”
Greer laughs lightly, but her eyes are glued down below. I stop talking and just let her take in the preparation. Before long, the event begins and we’re smiling and laughing as we watch the mini daredevils as they hang on to a handful of wool for dear life.
Most of them fall off almost as soon as they get out of gate, but a few make it the entire six seconds or longer. You can tell by their reactions which ones participate because they live locally and it’s fun, and which ones are hoping to make it to the World Championships. The serious riders immediately look up at their score when the fall. The locals seem more interested in taking a bow for the crowd.
“I’m a little sad I never took my kids to the rodeo when they were little. Oli would have loved riding a sheep,” she jokes. “And I would have loved watching it.”
“I’m pretty sure Pedro is already counting down the days until his new baby can try. Poor kid isn’t even born yet and Pedro’s already trying to turn him into a cowboy.”
“Can you blame him? It’s kind of fun.”
Turn my head to focus all my attention on her, I take in her smile and how relaxed she seems in this element. In my element. It fills me with a sense of pride that she appreciates the lifestyle I’ve always lived.
“This is definitely the glamorous side of cowboy life. I’m glad I get to share it with you.”
Her eyes flicker over to mine and she gazes at me under her lashes. “I’m glad you wanted to.”
I can feel the sexual tension growing between us, but now is not the time or place, so instead of taking her in a passionate, and all too inappropriate public display of affection, I give her a quick peck and link her fingers through mine. Not only are we joined at the hands, our thighs are touching from knee to hip. If I wasn’t feeling somewhat desperate to get her home, I don’t think I’d ever want to leave this moment.
Our moment is lost when the announcer begins talking about the next event over the loud speaker.
We watch in mostly silence as the barrel racers guide their horse through a cloverleaf pattern around the fifty-five-gallon metal drums. It’s impressive that the horses can make such tight turns. It’s hard to comprehend that such huge, solid animals can also be so agile.
But barrel racing is not why we’re here. What I really want her to experience is the next event—bronc riding.
“That’s what you used to do, right?” She points at the riders who are busy getting themselves focused on the task at hand.
“Not on this big of a stage, but yeah. Saddle bronc riding was my sport of choice.”
Her eyes are wide as the anticipation of the first ride builds. It’s almost palpable throughout the stadium.
“What happens if more than one rider stays on for eight seconds?”
I shake my head, masking my chuckle. That damn movie has everyone confused even all these years later.
“It’s not just about how long they can go. It’s about technique,” I explain as the first competitor climbs up on his ride in the chute. “It’s about form. It’s about precision. Now when his arm goes up, that’s his signal that he’s ready and for them to throw the gate open. Watch where his feet are when they go.”
Just then, the rider gives the signal and we watch amid the cheers as he hangs on to the thick reign, barely holding on as he’s bucked to and fro. It takes six point seven seconds for him to be thrown. Not good, but I’ve seen worse.
Leaning over to explain more to Greer I say, “Did you see how his feet where both touching the horse’s shoulders when he first jumped?” Greer nods. “That’s called marking out. He has to do that or he’s automatically disqualified.”
“So he has to keep a certain form during the ride?” she asks, fully invested in the events now.
“Yep. The goal is to look like he’s barely being jostled. All while be tossed around like a rag doll.”
“Wow,” Greer breathes and licks her lips, awe in her voice. “It’s so much more intense than I realized.”
“It takes a lot of power and a lot of control. But if you do it right, you’ll have the ride of your life.”
She doesn’t speak, just watches as the next competitor gives the signal and off he goes.