Chapter Six

Chase

“Chase, I’d like you to go with Lauren to the Monroes’ tonight,” Isaac tells me the next morning as I’m taking the cows to the pasture.

I keep walking, leading one of the calves. “I’m a farmhand, Isaac, not a babysitter. Besides, she’s twenty and the ranch is right next door.”

“I know. I know.” Isaac places a hand on my shoulder. “And I trust the Monroes. They’re good people. At least, Mr. and Mrs. Munroe are. It’s their daughter I don’t trust.”

And I understand why.

Kelly strikes me as a spoiled brat and a woman who doesn’t know her limits. Seriously, I don’t understand why Lauren is friends with her.

“Have they known each other long?” I ask curiously.

“If I recall correctly, they met when they were four,” Isaac says. “They’ve spent time together every summer since.”

“I see.”

“She used to be a sweet kid, that Kelly, but when she got into her teens, she just…” Isaac shrugs. “…lost her way. Last summer, she threw a dozen parties and I heard one of them nearly burned down a barn.”

“Really?” My eyebrows furrow.

Yes, I’ve thrown a few wild parties in my life but we’ve never caused any fires. At least, not that I know of.

“She invited Lauren to each of them but she never went. I don’t know why she suddenly decided to go to one now.”

I raise an eyebrow. “She didn’t tell you?”

“She just said she needed a break from the ranch.”

More precisely, from me. I was listening in when Kelly invited Lauren to the party and I can tell she didn’t really want to go but said she would go in a particularly loud voice after she saw me.

“If you’re so worried about her, you can just tell her not to go,” I suggest.

Isaac shakes his head. “I can’t do that. She’s been cooped up on this ranch for most of her life and she works hard, too. She deserves to have some fun.”

“Then let her have some fun.”

Isaac grabs the rope and stands in front of me, forcing me to a stop. “I know I’m asking a lot of you, Chase, and I’m well aware that this isn’t part of your duties but I really want you to go with Lauren.”

No. He doesn’t know what he’s asking. Yes, I might be able to protect Lauren from Kelly and her friends but I can’t guarantee I can protect her from myself. Hell, I can’t stop thinking about her, wanting her.

“I’ll feel more at ease knowing you’re with her.”

And I won’t. I’ll be on edge every minute, keeping myself from pouncing on her.

“You told me to stay away from your daughter,” I remind him.

“I did,” Isaac admits. “And now, I’m asking you to keep her safe. You’re the only one I can count on to do that.”

And boy, is he wrong. Poor Isaac. I’m the last person in the world he wants near his precious daughter. But if that’s what he wants…

“You’re sure about this?” I ask him.

He nods. “Keep her safe. Bring her home.”

I sigh. “All right.”

Isaac is my employer, after all. I owe him a lot so I can’t really say no.

He smiles, patting me on the shoulder. “Thanks, son.”

Son?

Oh, well, I guess I’ll just have to try to keep my dick in my pants for one evening.

This should be interesting.

---

The breeze blows through my hair as I walk down the trail with my hands in my pockets, twigs cracking beneath the soles of my shoes. All around me, the chirping of crickets, the rustling of leaves and the occasional croaking of frogs put on a soothing concert. As I look up, I see stars cheering them on from their pedestals, twinkling all across a cloudless sky.

In a way, it seems just like the night I almost died. Come to think of it, it’s been roughly a month since then. Just like then, I’m in the middle of the woods at night. The main difference is that this time, I’m not with a bunch of goons.

I’m with Lauren.

Tonight, she’s wearing a faded denim dress, sleeves up to her elbows and the hem of the skirt, which is trimmed with white lace, stopping above her knees. As she walks ahead of me, the skirt sways to and fro, rustling softly and whenever the wind blows, it billows, and Lauren quickly grabs the sides to keep it from flipping up.

Shame. I would have loved to see what underwear she has on beneath that dress.

On her feet, she has a pair of brown mid-calf boots and on her head, a silver headband keeps her raven hair out of her face. Even so, the breeze sweeps some strands over her cheeks and she pauses every now and then to brush them away.

Oh, what I’d give to brush those strands away.

She walks quickly, quietly, the flashlight in her hand. She hasn’t uttered a word since we left the house with her stomping her feet and grumbling in annoyance at her father’s decision to have me accompany her.

I can hear her heavy breathing, though. I can hear her mumbling as she swats a bug out of her way or making a strained sound as she climbs over fallen logs in her path. I can hear her shoulder bag slapping against her hip whenever she makes a jump, its contents rattling.

“Do you want to stop?” I ask her.

“No,” she answers, not stopping for a second.

Then suddenly, she stops at the banks of a brook, lowering her flashlight.

“What is it?” I ask, stepping beside her, my hand immediately going to the pistol Isaac lent me, which is tucked at the back of my pants, ready to draw it.

She doesn’t answer and I quickly realize there’s no danger.

Rather, there are fireflies rising from the bushes, dancing. As Lauren turns off her flashlight, they appear like stardust drifting in the breeze, soundlessly floating all around us and shining their little lights into the darkness just like the stars gleaming above.

I smile. I’ve seen fireflies gather before and each time, I’ve found it to be beautiful.

And this time, they’re not all that’s beautiful.

As Lauren watches them with eyes wide and glistening with wonder, lips curved up into a gentle smile, she seems just like one of them – ethereal, radiant. She looks like a child on Christmas morning except she’s not a child. She’s a grown woman with all the accompanying dips and curves and that smell of roses that rides on the breeze.

A grown woman with the expected effect over a grown man like me.

Just watching her expression, my boxers become uncomfortably tight, my breathing getting uneven. I reach out to hold her hand, wanting her closer to me, but just then, she steps forward.

“We should go.”

She lifts her flashlight, about to turn it on but she slips. The flashlight falls to the ground, bouncing off a rock, but I catch her, wrapping my arms around her.

“I’ve got you.”

Lauren looks up at me, her hazel eyes wide but this time with fear, which slowly fades as I stare into them, the golden specks that are the fireflies dancing in her eyes. Beneath their glow, I can see the rosy tint of her cheeks, the sheen of sweat gleaming on her forehead. Her breath, stolen by her fall, escapes as gasps from parted lips. I, too, am still catching my breath as I hold her, panting from my hasty effort to keep her from falling, though now, it’s running away from me for a different reason.

I want nothing more than to kiss her, to fuck her right here beneath the blizzard of fireflies, to take a tumble with her all over the carpet of fallen leaves. I want it so bad my cock rages in my pants, seemingly about to burst.

She looks away, though, and the spell is broken, the connection severed.

I want her but if something is to happen between us, she must make the first move. I did warn her to stay away from me, after all.

I lift her slowly to her feet then step back to give her some space.

She straightens the front of her dress then takes off her headband to comb her hair with her fingers before putting it back. I pick up the flashlight that has fallen to the ground and hand it back to her.

“Thanks,” she mutters.

“Careful,” I remind her.

“Don’t worry about me,” she says, turning her back to me as she turns the flashlight on. “I can handle myself.”

And off she stomps again, even faster this time, leaving the brook, the fireflies, and me behind with my huge problem.

---

Thankfully, by the time we get to the next ranch, my problem has been taken care of.

The Monroe ranch is three times the size of Little Peace Ranch, or so one of the farmhands told me when we passed through the gated fence. The house, too, is much bigger, like a mansion sitting among acres of orchards, fields, and pastures. And more modern, its façade a combination of buff bricks, stone chimneys, a gray slate roof, and black French windows.

Approaching it, I can already hear the loud music booming from speakers in the backyard. When Lauren and I get there, the party is already in full swing.

There’s a lot of people, probably more than fifty – scantily clad girls who seem clones of Kelly with different hairstyles and slightly older boys, some of them with cowboy hats and vests on. Most of them are dancing under the bright spotlights by the pool, right in front of a makeshift stage where a DJ in sunglasses and a red cap is busy behind his console. The others are cozying up to bottles of beer or to each other in dark corners. There’s also a handful of them in the pool and another handful across the yard, right next to the grills, either gobbling up the burgers and steaks or flirting with the men in uniform flipping them.

This is wild? I’ve seen worse.

It’s strange, though. Parties used to be my thing but now, as I look around, all I can feel is boredom, disgust, and pity for everyone here. Was I really as stupid as them before?

“Lauren!”

Kelly’s voice rises above the music as she makes her way through the crowd like a runway model, shoulders back and hips swaying. She looks like one, too, with her makeup, her knee-high boots, her leather cowboy hat that’s curled at the edges, the yellow blouse that hangs off her shoulders, and the pair of denim shorts riding up her thighs fastened to her waist by a glittering belt. Still, I’m unimpressed.

“Lauren, I’m so glad you came!” She gives her friend a hug. “For a moment there, I thought you weren’t going to show up again.”

“I said I’d be here, didn’t I?” Lauren answers, patting Kelly’s back. “What’s with the cowboy hats?”

“Oh.” She takes off her hat. “My friends from college wanted to have a little theme going on and they decided to be cowboys and cowgirls since we’re on a ranch but it’s not anything monetary.”

“I think you mean mandatory,” I correct.

She gives me her wide, lip-glossed smile as she holds her hat to her chest. “Hi, Chase. I’m so glad you came, too. You clean up nice.”

Her scrutinizing gaze goes over my casual Oxford shirt hanging over my black jeans before she glances back at Lauren.

“You look good, too.”

“Thanks.” Lauren scans Kelly’s shoes. “So do you. I especially like your boots. Are those the one you were talking about?”

Kelly’s eyebrows crease. “What do you mean?”

“The boots you said you and your friends all had made by that designer.”

“Oh. Manolo Blahnik?” She puts one boot forward. “No. These aren’t Blahnik. They’re just cheap boots that are like less than two hundred bucks. And they’re boots, not booties. Booties only go up to the ankles.”

She demonstrates by putting her hand over her own.

“Oh.” Lauren nods. “Well, thanks for the fashion lesson.”

Kelly gives a condescending smile. “You’re always welcome.”

She turns back to me, opening her mouth to say something. But she stops, nodding and touching her chin as her emerald eyes narrow.

“What’s wrong?” Lauren asks her.

“Oh, I was just thinking that now that Chase is properly dressed and all, he looks quite familiar.”

My shoulders tense as Lauren glances at me. “He does?”

“You must be mistaken,” I tell Kelly.

She steps forward. “Are you sure we haven’t met before?”

“I’m sure.”

Well, I’m not that sure but I don’t think so. I hung out with a lot of women, true, but rarely younger ones.

“Hmm,” Kelly says. “You’re probably right. After all, I’d remember if I met you before, especially since I’d probably sleep with you.”

She leans forward, placing the cowboy hat over my head as she lowers her voice to a whisper. “I still can if you want.”

I say nothing, trying not to roll my eyes.

She steps back beside Lauren, winking. Out loud, she says, “Well, since you’re here, you should enjoy yourselves. Why don’t you dance with me, Chase?”

She stretches out her arm.

“Sorry, but I don’t dance,” I tell her, taking off the hat and handing it back to her.

Kelly frowns as she takes the hat back but doesn’t give up. “How about a personal tour of the house then?”

She puts emphasis on the word personal.

“No, thanks.” I glance at Lauren, who is tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m here to watch over Lauren.”

“Oh. I didn’t know that was part of a farmhand’s duties.” Kelly looks at Lauren as well. “Or that you needed a chaperone.”

“I don’t,” Lauren answers quickly, frowning at me. “But my dad insisted.”

“I see.” Kelly puts her hat back on.

“So, you see, I’m here strictly on business,” I say.

“Does that mean I can’t offer you a bottle of beer?”

I shake my head. “Sorry.”

“Pity.” She clicks her tongue. “Well, help yourself to some steak and soda then.”

“Thanks.”

She places her arm around Lauren’s shoulder, hauling her away. “Well, you heard him. He’s working but you, my friend, are going to have fun. Let’s go grab you a beer and meet some of my friends.”

---

My gaze narrows over my glass of water as I watch Lauren with her second bottle of beer, throwing her head back and laughing at something funny the guy in front of her must have said.

I don’t trust him. Not one bit. Not with his unbuttoned polo shirt over his tank top, that grin of his or the way he’s staring at Lauren as if he’s going ready to devour her, zoning in on her breasts.

I feel like punching him, actually, my other hand already rolled into a fist at my side, clenching and unclenching. But I try to calm myself down, knowing I shouldn’t make a scene.

Besides, I have no right to be jealous.

“Hey.” A woman with short, blond hair and a white blouse paired with tight-fitting leather pants stops in front of me. “Can I get you a beer or something stronger?”

I set my empty cup of water down. “No, thanks. I’m fine.”

She turns around to the group of women behind her, who giggle. They’ve been taking turns trying to get me to spend time with them, probably betting among themselves or something, which frankly, I’m starting to find annoying.

“How about a dance, then?”

“Sorry, but I’m sure your friend already told you I don’t dance.”

“Well, we don’t have to dance.” She shrugs. “We can just hold hands and sway.”

I go back to staring at Lauren. “Or you can just find someone your age who you can play with.”

“Fine.”

She walks off, huddled with her friends who already seem to be thinking of a new plan.

I don’t mind. I watch Lauren as she laughs again, frowning.

She must be drunk. I know she’s only finished one bottle but she must be to laugh so hard and often.

Just then, she wobbles and I almost run to her but the guy she’s talking to places an arm around her, keeping her steady, and she laughs again.

Yup. She’s definitely had enough to drink.

Thankfully, she ditches that second bottle on a table. But then she and the guy head to the dance floor.

I stand my ground, watching her like a hawk as Lauren raises her arms up in the air, rolling her shoulders and wiggling her hips.

Wow. I didn’t know she could dance.

The guy beside her moves as well, staying close to her. The urge to punch him gets stronger.

Easy, Chase. They’re just dancing.

Well, at first, they are, but then he turns her around and places his hands on her waist and my composure snaps. In a few steps, I’m there between them, prying Lauren away from his hold as I glare at him before dragging her off.

“What are you doing?” Lauren asks in a slurred, annoyed voice.

“Keeping you safe,” I answer, continuing to pull her away from the crowd.

“Let me go.” She tries to free her wrist from my grip but fails.

“We’re going home,” I tell her without stopping.

“What’s the problem with you?”

“Nothing. You, on the other hand, have a serious problem.”

“I don’t,” she argues.

“You’re drunk,” I point out.

“No, I’m not. I’ve only had one bottle.”

“And how many have you had before?”

“Hmm. Just the one.”

“My point exactly.”

She falls silent, her resistance ebbing away.

For a while, she’s silent as we follow the path back to Little Peace Ranch. Then just as we’re at the border, she stops.

“Slow down,” she pants. “I can’t walk that fast.”

I turn to face her. “See. You are drunk.”

“And you’re mean.” She places a hand on her knee. “You could have borrowed one of Kelly’s horses.”

I admit I didn’t think of that. All I was thinking of was how to get Lauren away from that guy’s clutches as quickly as possible.

“Sorry.”

She sits on the ground. “I don’t think I can walk anymore.”

“Fine. I’ll carry you.”

I place my arm around her and lift her in my arms. She laughs again.

She’s heavy and my broken rib starts to ache again under her weight. I don’t complain, though, carrying her past the gate and through the moonlit patch of woods in the direction of the house. It’s a good thing the moon is full because my hands are, too, and I can’t hold the flashlight.

“What’s with that serious look?” she asks me.

“I’m trying not to drop you,” I answer.

To my surprise, she touches my cheek, her fingers warm in contrast to the chilly breeze. “You look hot when you’re so serious. And when you’re up close.”

My face is close to hers, her alcohol-laden breath tickling my skin and her hair sweeping over my face whenever the wind blows.

“You’re drunk,” I repeat, ignoring her.

“And you’re too serious.” She strokes my cheek, her thumb stopping at the corner of my mouth. “Kiss me.”

I pause at the daring invitation, meeting her gaze.

I shouldn’t have. She’s gazing at me with smoldering bedroom eyes and at once, my cock springs to life. Then she closes her eyes, parting her lips as she sticks them out.

I swallow the lump in my throat, tearing my gaze away from her and putting her down.

“Walk,” I tell her, pulling her arm. “If you can flirt, then you can walk.”

“Flirting?” she asks with a chuckle, stumbling after me. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Really? You seemed like an expert back there with that guy.”

“What guy?”

I don’t answer, turning the flashlight on and shining it on the path.

“Wait.” Lauren tugs my arm. “You’re not jealous, are you?”

I keep silent.

“You are jealous.” She tugs my arm harder, throwing herself at me. “Why? Do you want to dance with me, too?”

I suck in a deep breath as I feel her breasts against my chest, her misty, amber eyes boring into mine.

“I don’t dance,” I tell her through gritted teeth.

“Bullshit.” Lauren places her hands around my neck, rubbing her curves against mine.

I force myself to pull away from her, reminding myself that she’s a virgin.

I grab her wrist. “Let’s go home.”

“You’re no fun at all,” she whines.

“And you’ve had too much fun.”

“What are you scared of, huh? Are you scared of my dad? Well, I don’t see him around.”

I pay her no attention, pushing a low branch aside.

“Oh, come on. You were so eager to fuck me before.” I hear the bitterness dripping from her voice. “What’s the matter, hmm? Have you grown tired of me? Am I not as pretty as those other girls?”

“Lauren…”

She frees her arm from my grasp. I stop and turn around.

“We should go home.”

“Or we can have fun.”

She kicks her boots off so that she’s barefoot then unfastens the top button of her dress, her heated gaze on me.

I watch her fingers, speechless and unable to move. Another button comes off then another, giving me a glimpse of the black bra she’s wearing beneath her dress.

“Are you just going to watch?” she challenges.

I swallow.

She holds one flap of her dress open, bites her lip, and crooks a finger at me.

I take a deep breath as I place my hands on my hips, lifting my gaze up to the moon.

Oh, what have I done to deserve to be tortured like this?

“Lauren…”

“Enough talk.”

She stands in front of me, drawing my gaze back to her face as she runs her fingers over my lips.

“I’m sure you can put that mouth to better use.”

I say nothing.

“I’m sure I can put mine to better use.”

Her lips brush against my cheek, sending a shiver through me. Then she folds to the ground, going down on her knees. Her hands wrap around my waist.

“Lauren…”

She moves her face forward, lips parted, making me even harder as she plants a kiss on my clothed, bulging crotch before trying to take the zipper of my pants between her teeth. She succeeds on the third try, pulling it down.

And just like that, every bit of my resistance crumbles, the flashlight falling from my fingers and spilling its light over the leaves and branches on the ground.

“Oh, fuck it.”