Chapter 13: Sizzling Stays
A bead of sweat dripped from under the brim of Austen's ragged baseball cap. It was not quite noon and the heat of summer was already beating down on the ranch.
"Damn, it's hot," he told Hades as he groomed the beast, teased by the cool drops of water bounced off Hades's dark coat. "Tomorrow, we'll get on the trail earlier."
Hades nickered his approval.
"I'm calling in sick tomorrow," Grant announced as he walked into the stables carrying a box of tools. By the damp look of his shirt, the heat was affecting him too. "It ain't been this hot, this early, in years."
"You say that every year," Austen said with a laugh and finished spraying Hades and patted him dry. "And good luck telling the boss."
"Yeah, the guy's a tyrant. I say he needs to get laid," Grant teased.
Austen shot him a glare from under the shade of his hat. "Last I checked that had nothing to do with a lazy worker."
"Lazy? What would you do without me?" Grant's smile stretched ear to ear. "Who would help you keep this place running?"
"Oh, I don't know, probably Hank who does twice the amount of work and half the complaining," he shot back which caused Grant to laugh lightly.
"That's cause he's old. What else does he have to do?"
Austen glanced up from under Hades's long neck and arched a brow at his friend. "I dare you to tell Hank that."
"Hell, no," Grant said as he stowed his supplies away. "I'm not getting my ass kicked today."
Their friendly ridicule continued as they finished their morning tasks and headed back to the house for lunch. Kinsley was already seated at the wood table with papers spread in front of her and half a sandwich in her hand.
"Hey!" she yelled as Grant snatched the other half from her plate.
"Well, you should have made us one too," he said with a mouthful.
"It's the twenty-first century, make your own."
Grant answered with three large bites.
Kinsley's light eyes narrowed. "I hope you choke."
Austen shook his head. Growing up, he never needed to torture his sister the way a big brother did. Grant took care of all on his own. Defusing the situation, Austen reached for the papers in front of her and asked, "Work or school?"
"Work," she said as she slapped Grant's greedy hands away from the rest of her food. "Making sure everything is taken care of before I leave tonight."
Austen nodded and shifted through the paperwork. He was thankful Kinsley took an interest on the numbers side of running a profitable ranch. She had a mind for numbers and business concepts that would easily take her far. She was twenty-two. She could go anywhere, and yet, she chose to stay and help run their father's dream. It was more than Martin Phillips could have ever asked for, and something Austen would always be thankful for. Especially the way she sped up her final year by taking summer courses in Marburg.
"So what time are you leaving?" Austen asked, already knowing what she would say. Every Monday since her new semester began, Kinsley left for Marburg at five thirty. It would give her just enough time to have dinner and settle into her best friend's place.
Austen was in the midst of pouring a glass of water when he heard her say, "I'm not heading to Caroline's until seven thirty."
Cold liquid splashed against his hand as he missed the rim of the glass. He had to bite his tongue to keep from swearing, but that did not stop the slew of curses that flew through his mind. He was in deep shit.
"Why so late?" he tried to calmly ask. On the inside, he began to panic as he searched for a way to get his sister out of the house before six o'clock. It was either that or he would have to call off his dinner plans with Rose, and that was something he definitely didn't want to do. With her friends in town for the weekend, Austen hardly saw or heard from her. When Rose offered to cook for him as a way to say thanks for teaching her friend Harper how to ride, Austen was more than willing to make it a date. With any luck, he could get a little more alone time. The few kisses they shared since the happily ruined girls' night were satisfying, but Austen wanted more. He wanted to make her come apart again in his arms. She was magnificent to watch, like the sun exploded around her.
"I usually don't do oral," he recalled her saying. "Not that it matters, but it's just something I don't enjoy." But she enjoyed it with him, and damn if that didn't strike a very possessive bone in his body. He was not kidding when he told her he looked forward to finding what other firsts she had hidden.
"Hey, Romeo!" Kinsley called through his thoughts.
Austen's attention snapped back to his friend and sister as they laughed at his expense.
"I really hope that's your pistol you're carrying," Grant said, "because if you're happy to see me, we might have a few problems."
Austen moved behind the large kitchen island so fast and clumsily it caused another outburst of laughter from the peanut gallery. Shit, how did he get himself so balls deep into a woman he hadn't even had sex with yet? Even as a teen, his body didn't betray him the way it did at the mere thought of her.
"You wish," he shot back at Grant.
As Grant erupted into another fit of laughter, Kinsley said, "You know, I'm probably scarred for life, right?"
"I'm sure you've seen worse at that college of yours."
Ignoring his words, Kinsley's smiled ear to ear. "Well, I guess it's a damn good thing that I'm leaving early tonight."
"Wait, but you said—"
"I was messing with you." The smile on her face was far too pleased for Austen's taste. "I hung out with Rose and her friends yesterday and she mentioned she was coming over tonight. Good thing too, if just thinking about her does that."
"I wasn't thinking about—" but Austen cut off his words before he dug himself a deeper hole. "This isn't happening." Realizing what Kinsley said, he asked, "Since when do you hang out with her?"
"Since we became friends."
"I don't like this."
"Well, tough, big bro, because I like her." Taking a big swig of her iced tea, she added, "I like her hell of a lot more than I liked Tara."
That was not saying much. Tara and Kinsley had never gotten along, and all because of a guy Tara dated right after her break up with Austen. Not that Kinsley would ever admit that. Instead, his sister insisted it was because Tara was a two-faced, untrustworthy hag who took what she wanted with no regard for others. Kinsley's exact words.
As Austen contemplated the disaster his life would become with Kinsley and Grant's ever-mocking jokes, the devil herself waltzed through the front door.
"Hello," Tara called down the hall.
Austen was sure she could hear Kinsley groan from the kitchen. "Did I forget to mention," Kinsley began, "that your wifey was stopping by today."
Austen glared in reply. "Why is she here?" he whispered.
"Wants to get involved with the ranch."
"Since when?" he started to ask, but the click of Tara's four-inch heels entering the kitchen put the quiet conversation on hold. "Tara, come on in."
Her lean legs glided over to Austen as her arms wrapped around him, pulling him into an unwanted hug. "Kinsley told me to come on over this afternoon, so she could update me on the ranch."
"Didn't really have a choice when she called me," Kinsley said under her breath, causing Grant to choke on the sweet tea he stole from her.
Austen sent his sister a glare. He might not want Tara in his home, but he didn't like anyone being disrespected in it. Even if it was deserved.
Tara smiled sweetly as she kept her attention on Austen. "How's everything?"
"Well," Kinsley answered, taking the conversation toward a direction he was sure Tara didn't care about. "We're hardly coming out on top, so unless anyone has any bright ideas about any changes we can make ... like maybe opening that bed and breakfast."
Austen resisted the urge to roll his eyes. It was the same old argument between siblings. Kinsley had big plans for opening their home to strangers, but with only four bedrooms, two of which were occupied by them, a spare room, and their parent's room turned office, there simply was no way. On top of that, his sister was in Marburg three days out of the week for her classes. Who would help him run it and the ranch?
"You know why we can't do that," Austen said, sending his sister the we-are-not-discussing-it-again look.
"Rose thinks it's a good idea," Kinsley mumbled under her breath.
Austen wanted to beat his head against the wall. Not only was his current interest making friends with his sister, but his sister was discussing his business with her. Austen had to bite his tongue to keep his anger in check.
"I don't want you talking to Rose about this. It doesn't concern her," he said sternly.
Tara tensed at the mention of her cousin. "I agree with Austen. With how much time he spends here, he obviously knows what's best."
If everyone present in the kitchen could take a collective step backward at Tara's response, they would have. Instead, they all stared at her like someone had snatched her body and replaced it with a complacent woman. It was no secret that her mother, the greatest influence in Tara's life, resented everything about the ranch. It was only weeks ago that Shelby showed up to convince Austen to sell. He could almost hear the collective question circle around the room. Why would Tara side with Austen?
"Thanks, Tara," he said slowly. Turning to Grant, he asked, "Ready to get back out there?"
Grant nodded and jumped from his seat, snatching a bag of chips off the counter as he headed toward the door. Austen was close behind him when Tara reached for his arm and said, "I just want you to know that I'm fully in this."
Austen didn't like the way she looked up at him. It was the way a woman looked at the main man in her life. Grabbing her by the arm, Austen led her to the back patio. "Tara, we need to talk."
"Uh-oh, those are never good words," she teased.
"No, they're not." Austen hated doing this, but he needed her to understand. "Look, I know we've been friends for years, but that's all."
"That's all?" she asked with a hint of irritation in her voice. "You can stop right there, Austen, because I know what you are trying to do. Again."
"And what's that?"
Tara's arms flailed around her. "Drive me away. It's what you do."
"It's not like that and you know it."
"Yes, it is. It's just like last time. You—"
"I'm seeing Rose tonight," he blurted before she could finish.
Tara stepped away from him, her jaw tightening. Through clenched teeth, she said, "Who was there for you when she left? Go ahead, tell me."
Austen tossed his head back as he bit his lip. He didn't need a history lesson. "Tara-"
"Answer me!" Fury blazed in her blue eyes. "Who was there for you? How about when your dad passed and you went off the rails? Who bailed you out of a criminal record?"
"I was young," he said through narrow eyes.
"Yeah? So was I. But I wasn't the one joyriding, drunk, on someone else's boat."
"The guy didn't press charges," came Austen's bitter reply.
"Thanks to my father. The man who pulled your ass out of depression."
"I lost my old man."
"So have I."
It was then Austen realized how hard he was breathing. Tara had a way of bringing up a past he had long thought was buried. No one outside of the few parties involved knew about the night of his father's funeral when he and Grant got so drunk, he thought it was a great idea to borrow Mr. Lawson's speed boat. He was just thankful Charles stepped in. But Austen owed Charles for more than just saving him that night, and here he was neglecting that Tara lost her father too.
He even knew how hard it was for her mother. Shelby Clark was a strong woman on the surface, but it didn't take a detective to see how much the woman was hurting. Yet on the outside, she was strong. Just like Tara. And just like Austen.
"I'm sorry," he finally said. With each deep breath, his anger vanished. "But that doesn't change anything. You and I ... we don't fit together. Not in the way you want."
"We did once," she pressed.
"No. We didn't." Taking another deep breath, he added, "We forced it because it was expected. Be honest, do you see yourself tied down to the ranch life?"
"I could," Tara said sheepishly.
"No," Austen assured, "you couldn't. You don't want this. Any of this."
Tara didn't seem convinced. "And Rose does?"
"She has nothing to do with any of this."
"Are you sure? Because from where I'm standing, she has everything to do with this." Sensing the argument was sure to run in circles, Tara turned back toward the house, but not before adding, "Just remember who will be here when your city girl no longer is."
Tara's words followed Austen well into the night. Just remember who will be here when your city girl no longer is. Tara knew what those words meant to him, and yet, she threw them at him before retreating back to the comfort of his home. Even now, as Rose hummed happily in his kitchen, preparing a meal for them to share, the words continue to haunt him.
Catching on to his foul mood, Rose asked, "Is something wrong?"
"No," he assured. He refused to let Tara's words ruin his evening. Rose was nothing like her. She couldn't be.
Rose, on the other hand, did not seem convinced. Setting down the gravy spoon, she stepped away from the stove and asked, "Are you sure? I feel like something's bothering you."
Taking a deep breath, Austen stepped closer and ran his thumb across her smooth cheek. "It's just something I want to forget. Don't worry about it."
Rose's deep blue eyes sparkled with concern. "Is it about your mom?" At the surprised look on his face, she added, "When we were in Marburg, Kinsley mentioned something about her abandoning you guys."
The moment Rose looked away, Austen asked, "How did you—?"
"She sent me a text earlier warning me that you ... well, I won't use the words she did, but she said you weren't in the best of moods after Tara showed up today."
Damn it, Kinsley. He didn't like his sister putting his dirty laundry out for all to see. "What else did she tell you?" he asked through clenched teeth.
"Just that you took it harder," Rose replied.
He would have to strangle his sister later. Until then, he took a long, deep breath and said, "I was thirteen when she left. Just went to work one day and never came back."
"Why?" Rose asked with wide eyes. Blushing hard, she added, "I'm sorry, you don't have to answer if you don't want."
"It's fine." And he meant it. It had been too long since he talked, or even thought, about his mom. If he was getting involved with Rose, then she had the right to know. "She was nice enough to leave a note telling my dad that she couldn't take it anymore. She always thought they would move back to the city, where she was from, but he made it clear he wanted to live here after he retired. I should have seen it coming. They fought a lot."
The room fell silent. Rose ran her hand over his bunched sleeve, her gaze filled with empathy. "I don't know how a mother could just leave like that," she said so softly, he almost didn't hear her.
"I don't think she ever wanted kids. They got married way too young." As the words left his lips, he wanted to suck them right back in. Rose had just spent the weekend with her engaged friend. A friend that Austen thought seemed too smart to make the same mistake his parents did by marrying young, but what did he know? He only hoped he didn't insult Rose. To his luck, she stared up at him with those bright blue, eager eyes.
In her silence, he continued, "My dad started taking more side jobs after that. Thank God, we had our grandparents to step in."
Austen wanted to smile at the memory. If it wasn't for his grandparents taking him and Kinsley under their wing, he didn't know where either of them would be.
"And that's when you started dating Tara?" Rose asked. Shrugging, she added, "Kinsley."
Yes, he would definitely strangle his sister for opening her big trap. Austen nodded. "Charles took me in. And when my dad was shot, Charles became an even bigger factor. He saved me." Something about the word saved didn't seem grand enough. Austen owed his entire life to that man. The man who pulled him out of the greatest pit of despair and reminded him of all the things he needed to live for, his sister, included. After that, Austen pulled himself up and started running the ranch the way his father and Charles would have wanted him to. It was the least he could do.
"And now?" Rose asked.
She didn't have to say any more for Austen to understand she was asking to see where the two of them stood today. "Now, we're what we've always been, just friends stuck in the same small town."
"Good," she said with a small smile.
Her bright blue eyes flickered between his gaze and his lips, and Austen knew just want she was hoping for. He slipped his thumb under her chin, pulling her to him and...
Beeep, beeeep, beeeep. The oven timer blared through the kitchen.
If Austen had a bat, he would beat it senseless. But Rose was already pushing away from him and pulling out the dinner she had prepared.
It was said that a way to a man's heart was through his stomach. If that were true, then Austen was baffled why Rose was still single. Actually, there was more than one reason why her relationship status surprised him. But one thing was certain, the woman could cook. Perfectly baked chicken, mashed potatoes, biscuits, and steamed veggies, the woman was a goddess of chefs!
"Saved room for dessert?" Rose asked as she brought a tray of chocolate crescents to the table.
Austen groaned as he Austen gingerly rubbed his full stomach, happy with the food and easy conversation. But he didn't know how much more he could take. That was until he got one whiff of the warm crust and chocolate and his stomach rumbled for more.
"Trying to make me fat?" he teased.
"Well, you don't have to have one."
Greedily, Austen snatched a hot crescent from the tray. "Just try and stop me." One bite and he was in pastry heaven. "Lord, that is good. Where did you learn to bake?"
Rose's cheeks turned a wonderful shade of red. "Old family secret."
Austen happily bit into the chocolaty baked good. "We used to have a woman who made something almost as good as these. She worked in the coffee shop and would always give me a fresh chocolate crescent."
"Used to?"
"She moved away," he said with a shrug, but the memory put a smile on his face. He could've only been four years old, but he still remembered a sweet smile and long blonde hair. "She used to come by the ranch a lot, and she would always bring baked goods."
Rose smiled softly. "The best way to any boy's heart."
"Damn right." Austen leaned against the counter and took another generous bite. "Seriously, these are as good as I remember Miss Scarlett's."
The sound of Rose choking on crescent filled the kitchen. "Sorry. Wrong pipe," she said as she cleared her throat.
"Are you okay?" he asked, taking a step closer. Her brilliant eyes watered, but she held her composure. She nodded her head like a bobble doll, sending her loose curls flying along with Austen's thoughts. Even wide-eyed and patting her chest, Rose looked downright beautiful. He would come to her rescue a thousand times if she needed. Considering her latest track record, stranded on the side of the road, jerk at the bar, choking on a crescent ... she definitely needed him. Or at least, that's what he hoped. Running his hand down the smooth line of her jaw, he asked, "Are you sure? Because I'd be happy to do a little mouth to mouth."
Rose laughed so hard she almost started choking again. "You hang out with Grant too much," she teased. "His cheesiness is rubbing off on you."
The sweet smell of her flowery perfume mixed with the chocolate on her lips wrapped around his lust-filled senses. At the sound of her infectious laugh, Austen became fully aware of the string that curled around his dick and wrapped around her little finger. He would do anything to put that shining smile on her face.
"Austen, I needed to tell you something," she said as he leaned his face to hers.
"Later," he said, pressing his lips to hers. All he wanted to do now was to put all thoughts and past aside and enjoy what he had now.
Her.
"But I—"
"Later," he repeated.
"Fine." As if she read his mind, Rose pushed closer. "You did say you wanted to find my other firsts ..."
Her words trailed off, floating into the warm summer night, as her hands traced around the top of his jeans. His smooth breaths turned jagged as she slipped her fingers beneath his buckle and pulled his belt loose.
With eyes that could cause a saint to sin, she smiled and said, "I want you."
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