Page 21 of Bronco
I manage a nod I don’t feel, smile robotically, fake a yawn. “Awesome. I’m gonna hit the bed.”
“Lauren…” He calls my name softly.
But it’s too late. I’m already in the house, screen door slamming behind me as I hurry toward the guest bedroom.
After a sleepless night spent tossing and turning in the guest bed with sheets that smell of Bronco, I’m up with the sun. I take a quick shower and walk through the house, but he’s already gone to work on his chores. He was probably up when it was still dark.
I don’t mind his absence so much right now. My heart is bruised from last night, and I’m not sure it’s ever going to heal. A kiss that melted my bones and he called it theater. Guess he’s a much better actor than I am because I could never fake that kind of passion.
I settle on his couch with my phone and answer endless comments about the auction before I open my laptop. There are emails to answer, mainly questions from the bidders and even more media requests. The whole thing is surreal and right up until last night, I was crazy excited about it.
But then the wind got taken out of my sails. I’m mad at Bronco for not feeling the same things for me that I do for him. But I’m more mad at myself for getting the wrong idea about what all of this meant. Bronco is only doing this because he’s loyal to my brother.
My shattered heart will just have to accept this fact and move on. I’m not entirely sure there will be any moving on, but I have to try. If Aunt Elaine can be strong enough to overcome betrayal, then I can get over a silly crush on my brother’s best friend.
I’m still telling myself that an hour later when I walk down to the barn. The cowboys going up for auction agreed to meet me here for photographs. After Bronco interrupted the first photo shoot, I only had pictures of Cord and Flint. Now, I plan to get shots of the rest of them. The problem is the lighting outside isn’t great today. The weather is too overcast, the cloud coverage promising thunderstorms within a few hours.
That’s when I realize the barn doors are already thrown open wide, bright lights shining inside.
“Lauren,” Flint calls my name and gestures me over. “We’ve been waiting. Sorry about the lights. I couldn’t get photography lights out to the farm on short notice. So, we mounted some high bay lights. It’s the best I could do. Hope that’s okay.”
I wasn’t expecting him to help with the lighting. “That’s perfect. I was planning to use natural lighting but…” I gesture toward the sky behind me.
“I figured and look…” He holds up his phone and swipes the screen. A loud, rowdy country song starts to play. “Cord figured out the playlist. Seems like the right music might loosen everyone up.”
“You really thought of everything,” I admit. “Doesn’t the music bother the horses?”
“We play music in here all the time. None of them have complained yet.”
“One last question. Any chance I could hire you to be my assistant at Wildflower?”
He chuckles. “I saw what I sold for at the auction. You can’t afford me.”
“That’s true,” I agree as I take in what he’s done. The lights are bright, and the guys are already milling about and shirtless. The scent of coconut is overpowering.
“Oh, and I upgraded us from the Crisco,” he says. “That part was actually my idea. Smells nicer too, doesn’t it?”
I frown, not sure what he means about coconut oil being his idea. But before I can ask, he goes to talk to Cord who’s fiddling with the speakers.
The next four hours pass quickly as I photograph all the cowboys. They’re good-natured and joke with each other easily. But the entire time I’m taking pictures, I’m aware of Bronco. He slipped into a dark corner of the barn just as I pulled out my camera. I haven’t let myself acknowledge his presence.
Finally, just as we’re breaking down, he approaches me. “Hey.”
“Hi,” I answer, not bothering to inject any fake cheerfulness into my voice. What does it matter anyway? It’s not like he cares.
I pretend to fiddle with my camera. That’s twice now that we’ve kissed and both times have been a mistake. It’s not his fault, but I also can’t keep hurting myself this way.
“About last night, well, the thing is…” He fumbles for the words, clearly not having thought this through. How can the man not have fixated on that one moment all night long like I did? How did he not lie awake for hours obsessing over the most perfect kiss in the history of the entire world?
“It’s fine. You were doing what you had to do. For the audience. Views went way up after that. Gold star for you, Marine.”
He opens his mouth, and I’m not sure what he’s going to say. I interrupt him before he can offer an explanation, “Everything is fine. Go. Have fun roping steers or whatever it is you do. I have to edit these photos and get them done. I’ll see you later.”
Chapter 8
Bronco
It was the kind of kiss that’s more than physical. It was two halves finding each other and becoming one whole. It’s the type of frantic energy you only experience in the middle of a hurricane. Powerful and raw, erotic and all-consuming.
