Chapter Twelve
They spent half an hour in the change rooms, meeting the guys. Damien didn’t say a lot but hung on every word and basked in the hero worship directed toward Troy, who was the big fish in the little pond here tonight. For his part, Troy understood what it meant to these guys to spend some time shooting the breeze with one of the ranked riders, so he didn’t rush away.
Having one of the big fish tell a rider it was possible to make it to the extreme tour, because he’d done it, could keep a guy going.
Damien turned to Troy as they stepped outside the change rooms. “You’re a legend.”
There was awe in his voice and he was looking at Troy like he was seeing him for the first time. Not as some guy living over top of his garage who sided with his mom but as some kind of superhero.
“Well, this legend’s a little tarnished at the moment.”
Damien shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. Those guys idolize you.”
Troy was about to explain how quickly that could all turn to shit but he was interrupted.
“Troy Jensen?”
They turned to find a skinny, busty blonde walking their way, hips swinging, bangles jingling. She was wearing a cute straw cowboy hat perched on her head, a tight T-shirt that read save a horse—ride a cowboy, a pair of blue boots and jeans that looked like they’d been painted on.
“Oh my God it is you.” She smiled big as she reached him and went in for the hug. “I saw you ride in Cheyenne and you got my heart all aflutter.”
“Hello there, darlin’,” Troy drawled going into autopilot. She pulled out of the hug but kept one hand firmly on his arm.
“It’s Sherry.” She fluttered her eyelashes. “Whatcha doin’ now, big guy? Me and my girlfriends are up for a party.”
Troy and Damien glanced over her shoulder at the other three women huddled together all dressed in a similar vein and all smiling openly.
Ordinarily he’d already be pitching a tent in his Wranglers at the thought of four willing women. But Troy—and his dick—had never been more disinterested in his life. It seemed the only woman he wanted to party with was more interested in talking herself out of having sex with him than succumbing to the screaming tension between them.
“Sorry, Sherry, darlin’, I thank you for your kind offer but—”
“It’s okay. I’m sure we could find someone for little cutie here—” She shot a flirtatious smile in Damien’s direction. “If that’s what you’re worried about?”
Troy smothered a smile at Damien’s openmouthed expression. She’d just opened the door to every teenage boy’s wet dream.
“Sorry, darlin’.” He extricated himself from the woman with a friendly smile. “But we have to be heading home.”
She relented with a pout and walked away with a, “Maybe next time, cowboy,” and a tinkly little wave.
Damien stared after her, his gaze glued to the swing of her butt. Troy reached over and shut Damien’s mouth. “You’ll be catching flies with that.”
Damien turned incredulous eyes on him. “You really are a legend.”
He said it with such hushed awe, Troy couldn’t help but laugh.
“Well, I know what I want to be when I finish school.”
Troy laughed again. He wasn’t sure wanting to be a bull rider for the chicks was very good motivation. Although, Troy had to admit, it wasn’t a disincentive either.
“Women just…offer themselves to you?”
Troy shrugged, feeling uncomfortable suddenly with how it must look. The messages that kind of behavior sent to an impressionable young guy.
Christ…since when had he felt responsible for anyone other than himself?
“Sometimes,” he said, trying to downplay it.
“I wouldn’t mind if you took her up on that offer.”
“Yeah. I bet.” Troy laughed and clapped Damien on the back. “But I’m pretty sure your mother didn’t send you here with me to get you laid so let’s just get on home now, okay?”
He shrugged as he followed Troy’s lead out of the complex. “She wouldn’t have to know.”
Troy had to give the kid points for trying but he was lousy at subterfuge. One look at the goofy grin a woman like Sherry could put on her son’s face and Joss would know for sure his cherry had been popped.
“Trust me, she’d know.”
“Okay…fine, but…seriously. If you want to go with them I would totally dig that. I can disappear for a bit.”
Troy blinked. Maybe he was just getting more mature but everything about that proposal put an itch up his spine. “Nah, mate. I’m hanging with you. And besides…”
His heartbeat kicked up several notches with a sudden jolt, banging hard and fast, drumming loud through his ears. The real reason why screwing four women while Joss’s son waited for him in the car didn’t do it for him was much deeper than that.
“I really like your mom.”
Troy held his breath. He didn’t know why he’d said it. He hadn’t planned on it. Hell, he’d known her for less than two weeks. But the sudden urge to say it out loud had taken hold and he’d always gone with his gut.
And the truth was, he did really, really like Joss. But how the hell would Damien feel about the revelation from a man who wasn’t his father?
“You having sex with her?”
Troy blinked. Okay…he hadn’t expected that. The faint echo of his heartbeat swished in his ears as he consciously chose his words. Not easy for someone who’d never been good with words.
“Well…not that it’s any of your business but…no.”
The fact that Troy had put his hands—and his mouth—all over Joss, and had thought of little else but being inside her ever since he’d met her, didn’t count.
That wasn’t the question Damien had asked.
“How would you feel about her being with someone else?”
He snorted. “I say good luck to whoever is crazy enough to try. No man would be stupid enough to have such a…”
Troy tensed for Damien to say bitch. Or something equally unfair. He didn’t, but Troy was pretty sure it was what he wanted to say instead of: “Permanently cranky woman in his life.”
He breathed a sigh of relief and went on. “You really should go easier on her.”
Damien stiffened at the criticism, turning his head to look at Troy. “Why should I?”
A wise man would have backed down but Troy always had rushed in where fools feared to tread. “She’s doing the best she can. She loves you and she’s trying. It’s not easy raising a kid solo, you know?”
“Oh yeah? You raised by a single mother?”
Troy knew where this was going but he let it play out. “No. I grew up with two parents.” Neither of whom had given a single fuck about him. Unless he hadn’t been able to score for them that day.
“Your dad still around?”
“Yep.” Last Troy had heard he’d just gotten out of prison—again. God knew how either of them had survived this long.
“Well then…” He swung his gaze back to the front, conversation clearly over. “Don’t talk to me about stuff you don’t know.”
Troy thought for a moment or two before he continued, again choosing his words carefully. He didn’t want to come across as some overbearing adult who lectured about how good the kids of today had it. But he wasn’t going to cut the kid a break on his shit either.
He didn’t have to.
“You think if you grow up with a mother and a father that everything’s dandy?”
“Of course not,” Damien muttered.
“Good. Because two parents can be just as bad as one or none. Yeah, I grew up with a mom and dad but I didn’t grow up in a nice house, in a nice street, in a nice small town with nice neighbors and a nice grandfather who opened his home to me. I didn’t come from some loving nuclear family. I grew up in poverty and abuse. In dark corners, slipping through the cracks. Not one adult in my life gave a shit about me until I was sixteen years old.”
Damien glanced at him. There were two high spots of color on his cheeks. “What happened when you were sixteen?”
“A judge wanted to put me into a juvenile correctional facility.”
He blinked. “You went to juvie?”
“No. But I nearly did and it scared me shitless.” The terrifying prospect of prison had been about the only thing to cut through his numbness.
Damien looked taken aback at that admission. “Wouldna thought a guy who rides angry bulls every weekend would be scared of anything.”
“All men get scared from time to time, mate. There’s no shame in that. It’s how you choose to deal with it that counts.”
If he could pass one thing on to Damien tonight it was that. Some things in life couldn’t be controlled. But the choices a person made could.
“How’d you deal with it?”
“I was given a reprieve, a second chance, and I took it.”
“That’s when you ended up on that cattle station you told us about?”
“Yes.”
Damien didn’t say anything for a moment or two then he mumbled, “I’m sorry. I…didn’t know about all that.”
Troy shrugged. “Why would you?” It had been a long time since he’d worn his psychological wounds like a force field, pissed at the entire world. “But if you think your life is really that shitty, then you don’t know much at all.”
“I just…” Damien hunched his shoulders. “She makes me so mad sometimes and…I miss my dad is all…”
“I hear you.” Troy nodded. “I get that you’re angry. Hell, I understand it. Your dad died, and puberty is making Swiss cheese of your hormones and you’re living in the middle of nowhere. But boo-bloody-hoo, mate. Cry me a river.”
The spots on Damien’s cheeks got redder. “Dude. Don’t ever go into psychology.”
Troy gave a small laugh. “I don’t know what those fancy headshrinkers would advise but I do know this, life sucks and it’s not fair. You and I just found that out earlier than most. But I’d rather have had a great dad for ten years than a shitty one for all my life. And at least you’ve still got a great mom.”
“I s’pose,” he conceded morosely. “I just wish she wouldn’t talk about dicks getting burned to charcoal in bonfires so much.”
Troy winced and adjusted himself at the thought. “Yeah. I’m with you there, mate.”
They crossed the parking lot toward Troy’s pickup. “You and your mom should come and watch me ride at Lubbock in two weeks’ time. Would you like that?”
“Yeah?” Damien brightened. “That’d be awesome.”
The conversation veered on to Troy’s stats as they climbed into his car and then on to the championships he’d won and the eight-second rides he’d accomplished. Damien asked him about the bulls he’d ridden—the ones he’d conquered and the ones he’d yet to beat—which segued into gruesome injury stories. By the time they’d moved on to best techniques they were at the Plainview town limits.
A sudden hum buzzed through Troy’s body as they passed the welcome sign. His muscles tensed, almost cramping but not in an unpleasant way, knowing he’d be seeing Joss soon. He’d told her not to wait up but it wouldn’t matter if she was out of sight, curled up in her bed fast asleep, he’d still feel her.
Like invisible silk threads weaving strands around his body, drawing him inexorably to her. Strands that grew thicker as each day passed. She felt it too. He knew it. He saw it on her face.
And it was only a matter of time before they both succumbed.
*
Joss heard Troy’s vehicle pull up outside at almost one in the morning. He’d told her not to wait up but she’d only finished her shift an hour ago and she was too keyed up to sleep. She was dying to know how it went. Whether it had lived up to Damien’s Disneyland-esque expectations. Whether he’d behaved himself. Whether he and Troy had gotten along.
A part of Joss desperately wanted Troy to like her son. She didn’t know why. It wasn’t like he was anyone significant in Damien’s life. Or hers either, for that matter.
His elbow would be healed and he’d be gone in two weeks for the love of Mike!
But she had been hoping that Troy could be some kind of example for Damien. That her son could look at the successful Aussie bull rider and see with his own two eyes that no matter what shit happened in life, a person could rise above.
That it was never too late to change directions. To make good decisions.
She liked Troy—way more than she’d thought possible—and it’d been monumentally hard to stay away from him all damn week. She wanted Troy to like her son because Damien was her whole world and feeling something like this for someone who didn’t care for her child would cut her to the quick.
“Hey.” She stood as the front door opened. “How was it?”
“Oh, Mom! It was awesome.”
Joss almost sagged to the floor at the glow on Damien’s face and the metal-heavy grin almost as big as the ten-gallon hat sitting on his head. He launched into the highlights without any prompting from her and by the time he’d run out of words her head was spinning.
Joss glanced at Troy. He’d been standing with one hand buried in his back pocket, a slightly bemused expression on his face.
“I guess he liked it, huh?”
He smiled at her. “I’ll make a cowboy out of him yet.”
The tune to ‘Mammas, Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up To Be Cowboys’ floated through her head but right now Joss couldn’t have cared less about the inherent warning. Her old Damien was back, happy and excited and carefree.
It made her heart sing to see him so animated and engaged. Hell, he hadn’t even been this enthused about that stupid party they’d argued over. She didn’t fool herself into thinking it would last but for one night it was more than she could ask for.
“Mom. Did you know this guy—” He hooked his thumb in Troy’s direction. “Is like this big legend?”
Joss cocked an eyebrow at Troy. “You told him that?”
Troy laughed. “Absolutely not.”
“He didn’t have to, Mom. Everyone knew him. Like everyone. The guys competing and the officials, people in the crowd. Even little kids. I lost track of how many autographs he signed!”
“Really?” Joss sent him a speculative look. “Maybe we should have been charging rent?”
“Hey.” He grinned. “I offered.”
“And,” Damien continued, oblivious to the undercurrents, “Troy wants us to go and watch him ride in Lubbock in two weeks. You’re not working are you?”
“I’m not working.”
Joss couldn’t have cared less if she had been. She’d have arranged a swap. Hell, she would have sold her soul. Damien was finally connecting and she wanted to build on that momentum.
Plus how could she pass up a chance to see the legend in action?
“Then we can all go?” Damien’s eyes were glowing now. “Together?”
“Absolutely.” A sudden thickening in her throat at the word together put a dampener on her good mood. “As long as it is okay by Troy.”
Given her son’s current mood she wouldn’t be surprised if he’d mistaken something Troy had said. Damien didn’t wait for a confirmation from Troy, in two strides he’d scooped her up into a big bear hug. She glanced over his shoulder at Troy, their gazes locked.
“It’s a date.” His eyes dropped to her mouth and Joss’s breath stopped in her lungs.
Damien let her go as abruptly as he’d grabbed her and Joss had to hold on to his arm to stabilize herself. “I’m going to buy some cowboy boots with my savings this week.”
Joss blinked. “Okay.” This from the kid who had scoffed at all the boots he’d seen around town when they’d first moved.
He turned to Troy. “Thanks so much for taking me tonight. I had the best time.”
Troy held out his right hand. “No worries, mate. Anytime.” The thickening in Joss’s throat became a lump as Damien shook it.
“Well I better go to bed—gotta work tomorrow. I have boots to pay for.”
“Night.” Troy nodded.
“Night, Mom.” Damien kissed her on the cheek and practically levitated out of the room.
Joss stared after her son. Wow. “Okay?” She turned to face Troy. She was achingly aware of how alone they were now. Of the way he’d looked at her mouth. Of the way he’d been looking at her since he’d made her come under a night sky in the middle of nowhere.
“Who is that kid and what have you done with my son?”
Troy chuckled. “He did have a good time.”
“A good time? That—” She hooked her thumb in the direction her son had disappeared. “Is a religious conversion.”
Another chuckle, all low and sexy, oozing into the hush of the house and the space between them sweet and sexy, full of unspoken desires. “I think probably women in tight jeans had more to do with it than bulls, boots and God put together.”
Joss’s pulse spiked. “There were women?”
She hated that she’d asked. That her voice sounded squeaky and unsure. Sweet baby cheeses. Of course there were women!
Troy smiled, which did not help the flaming streak of jealousy burning in the pit of her stomach. “Southern women do like them some cowboys.”
He was making a joke but Joss’s power of reasoning seemed to be broken. The night had turned out better than she’d expected, much better than she’d hoped. For Damien. And that’s all that mattered.
The fact she’d been reminded about Troy’s life, his reality—autographs and celebrity and women in tight jeans—was a good thing.
“Well, thank you.” She folded her arms primly. “I appreciate you taking him. I hope he didn’t cramp your style.”
A small smile played on his mouth but those green eyes were serious. “Jealous?”
“No.” She shook her head emphatically.
He cocked his scarred eyebrow but left it alone. “He didn’t. Cramp my style. I had fun hanging out with him. It was fun seeing it all through the eyes of a rodeo virgin. Took me back to my first time.”
That slight smile was back again as his gaze dropped to the crisscross of her cotton gown, which had been pulled taut by the fold of her arms beneath her breasts. It was too bloody hot for a gown, even a short cotton one, but she’d taken to wearing it since Troy had been in the house and now she wished it went from neck to knee.
He lifted his gaze. “He’s a good kid. Easy company. I like him.”
And there were the magic words.
Joss locked her knees as a tidal wave of emotions swept over her. Gratitude. Pride. Relief. It was as if Troy had read her mind.
He walked the three paces that separated them until he was close enough to touch her if he wanted. Close enough for her to touch him. Her belly tightened and she dug her fingers into her biceps to stop from doing just that.
“He’ll be okay, you know?”
His assurances were like a salve. A balm. They made her feel stronger. Better. Troy had been in some dark places. If he said Damien was going to be okay, she believed him.
“Maybe just pull back on the number of grotesque things that can happen to his junk, yeah?”
She gave a grudging laugh, the tension that had been building in her body evaporating. “Yeah. Sorry…it’s an occupational hazard. You wouldn’t believe some of the things I’ve seen.”
“Worse than pineapples?”
“Yes.”
They both laughed then and the urge to push him down onto the couch and have her way with him got lost in the humor of the moment. It returned as soon as the laughter dissipated but she took a step back, in better control of herself now. “Well thank you, again.”
He eyed her for a beat or two like he might take a step closer, try and reclaim the moment, but he didn’t. He just nodded slowly and said, “No worries. Good night, Joss.”
Joss stood aside. “See you in the morning.” And held her breath as he brushed by.