Chapter 20 - Chase Me, Cowboy

She’s quiet as we head to the mini-mart for groceries.

I saw her power down while she waited for her coffee. Did I say something? That thought worries me as I load the groceries and get back into the driver’s side. She’s curled up, her coffee clutched in both hands. A beam of sunlight hits her blonde hair, and it glows almost white.

I pause.

There’s something about her that I know would do well in front of the camera. Of course, she’s beautiful. When she walks in a room, she’s a sharp, little ray of sunshine. But it’s something else, too. She’s got a quick tongue, and I could media-train the shit out of that, turn her into America’s sweetheart with a side serving of endearing sass. She’d kill an acoustic set, up on a stool at the center of the stage.

She’d be a spotlight in the dark, all on her own.

It’s my job to evaluate people for how successful I think I can make them. This girl…she’s raw talent for sure, but she’s also got star quality. I could send her right to the top.

Professionally, I am champing at the bit to get her for myself.

Personally, it’s not much different.

“You want to go anywhere else in town?” I start the engine and head out onto the narrow street.

“No, I’m okay.”

She smiles, but I don’t like it because she should be talking back. We sink into silence. After a while, she rolls down the window and puts her hand out. The wind whips her hair. She spreads her fingers and surfs her hand over the wind. I’m having trouble keeping my eyes on the road. She’s hard not to look at.

We pull up, and I cut the engine.

“I think I’ll go home tomorrow,” she says.

My head jerks up. “What?”

“I will actually go home tomorrow,” she says. “I know you were planning on asking me to stay longer. I can tell.”

My jaw works.

“Why?”

She shrugs, biting at her lip. I can tell what she wants to say is getting stuck in her throat. Finally, she sniffs.

“Because the longer I stay, the more complicated this gets,” she admits.

I want to say it’s not complicated.

But I’m not so sure anymore.

“Alright, I get it,” I say finally. “I’ll book your flight for the morning.”

When she turns, her expression is normal. Considering she was sniffing a second ago, that’s a bit strange. She gives me a pert little smile and pops open her door, jumping out.

“Good,” she says. “You want to make me something to eat? I’m hungry.”

“Can do.”

Inside, she watches me as if I need supervising, which is annoying. After a while of tripping over her in the kitchen, I pick her up unceremoniously and set her down on the counter. Her brow arches sharply.

“Stay the fuck put,” I say.

She shrugs. “Whatever, being in the kitchen is your job, anyway.”

I wish I could say I hate her snarky little digs, but I don’t. Once I got to a certain point, people started kissing my ass way more than they should. It’s nice to be around someone who doesn’t give a fuck or want anything from me. At least, I hope not. Idly, I watch her as I toast the bread for sandwiches. It may not matter if she wants something from me professionally because, deep down, I’d like something professionally from her, too. Like the chance to mold her career, hit a button, and watch her soar.

Guilt—there it is again.

It’s getting stormy, though not as badly as yesterday. We eat in silence in the living room while rain spatters the exterior walls lightly. When she’s done, she roams the room like she can’t sit still.

“You want some wine?” I ask.

She gives me a sharp glance. “Why? So you can seduce me again?”

“Seduce you? I didn’t put in any work.”

She gives a gasp, not a serious one. “How dare you?”

“Dare I say you want to get laid, too? Loosen up.”

She rolls her eyes, and to my surprise, crosses the room and sinks down in my lap facing me. Light, warm fingertips brush my jaw. Her lids are low and her gaze soft. I run my palms over her bare legs to the hem of her shorts, sliding beneath them until my fingertips brush the edge of her panties. She’s been wearing these tiny little thongs, but today it’s a pair of lace-edged panties that catch on my calloused skin. There’s something so sweet and pretty about her that hits a certain part of my desire and makes me want to spend days in bed with her, peeling back layers, listening to her talk until I find out who she is at her core.

“When you think, you lose the crease between your eyebrows,” she says.

“Oh, I got wrinkles, huh?”

She smiles, flashing her front teeth. There’s a tiny overlap between them, and I like it.

“I mean, you are older than me.”

“But not old.”

She shrugs, then nods. “That’s true.” Her voice gets soft, almost wistful. “Not too old, just right.”

My fingers tighten. I think she likes that there’s a little gap between us, which makes me feel a bit better about it. It’s not something I’m in love with, personally, but I like her enough to tolerate it.

“Did you like when I played for you?” she asks, faltering.

“I did.”

A million thoughts surge through her eyes. “If we ended this…messing around, would you consider me professionally?”

Taken aback, I gather myself. I wasn’t expecting her to be so straightforward.

“It’s hard to answer that with you sitting in my lap,” I say.

She moves, but I grip her hard.

“I didn’t say leave,” I add gruffly.

Her throat bobs and tension crackles. “This can be turned around. I want a chance, same as anybody else.”

“Well, it’s not the same as anyone else.”

She bites the inside of her lip, frowning. “I know.”

“But that’s not unusual. Is it a good thing? Not really, but Coen got top billing in the agency because we’re basically related.”

She’s quiet.

“I don’t sign anyone I don’t think has what it takes, though,” I say finally. “Knowing me already is a foot in the door, but it won’t get you any further than that.”

Her eyes snap up.

“So what would be the right way to go about it?” she asks.

I’m quiet because, honestly, I’m surprised she’s this serious.

“Start putting yourself out there,” I say finally. “And give me time to think.”

After those words leave my mouth, hollowness settles in. It’s selfish, I get it. But I was kind of hoping she’d consider the personal, too. Which doesn’t make sense. I’m not offering her a goddamn thing other than a casual hookup. It’s better for her that we cut off anything sexual. Otherwise, we’ll just keep going back and forth every time I visit the ranch.

There must be something in my face. She touches my cheek again.

“So I guess we make tonight count, huh?” she says.

I shrug, like it doesn’t matter. “I guess we do.”

She leans in, and her mouth hovers over mine. Then, she dips in and kisses me so lightly I barely feel it. My stomach swoops like I went over a sharp drop. My fingers tighten and I pull her closer, sliding under the edge of her panties. She gets me so damn riled up, it’s like coming home after a long day with no time to eat and she’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted. My tongue grazes her open lips. She moans and wraps her arm around my neck, kissing me deep. Her other hand slides down and goes under my shirt.

I pick her up, and we make our way to the bedroom.

For tonight, I won’t think. I’ll just turn out the light so I can memorize the way every touch feels.