Braving The Storm: An Age Gap, Cowboy Romance (Crimson Ridge Book 2)

“City girl… what cha doin’ down here?”

I’ve hardly opened the door to the truck after we pull up at the new ranch we’ve arrived to work at, when Kayce’s brilliant smile hits me from the door to the stables of Rhodes Ranch. He’s wearing chaps and carries a massive saddle that would probably crush me if I attempted to lift it.

For a moment, I blink at him, entirely surprised to see him here, then my brain catches up, and I remember that he comes down from the mountain to presumably this ranch and one of the others for rodeo training—or, so I’ve been informed.

“Apparently wherever there are horses in this town, is where I hang out these days.” I chirp back at him and jerk my head in the direction of the man extracting himself from the driver’s side.

Storm doesn’t run off this time. Instead, he joins us around my side of the vehicle.

I’m sure my cheeks immediately turn neon pink because there are all too many things we have done on the hood of this truck, in the very same spot where Kayce is now leaning up against the faded paintwork to talk to us.

Oh god.

The giant cowboy flanking my other side flicks his blue eyes over the location and then back to me briefly. How the hell he’s managing to keep a straight face right now, I don’t know, but I’m damn squirming.

“Rhodes has got me taking a look at some of the new boarders arriving for spring.” Storm is hovering so close that my skin prickles, the heat of his broad chest sears my nape, and I have to clear my throat because surely it must be obvious that there is so much more between us now than merely a few short days ago.

Now that we’re being seen in public together, I can’t help feeling as if there’s a giant sign hanging over my head with flashing lights and arrows pointing at me for the entire world to see.

Niece who worships her uncle’s cock… right here, folks!

“Sweet… I wish I could stay and chat, man… but there are broncs calling my name who want to try and take a piece out of me.” Kayce readjusts his grip on the saddle. “But I’ll see you guys tonight for dinner?”

“Sure.” The man at my side grunts.

“Rhodes is inside,” Kayce calls over his shoulder as he takes his chaps and golden cowboy charm off toward a group of other similarly-attired people who are gathered at the fence.

“Come on, city girl.” I’m nudged in the small of my back, with a devilish chuckle echoing his words.

“What? He’s been nothing but lovely to me since I got here.”

“As long as he doesn’t go getting any ideas.”

I tuck some loose hair behind my ear. “Honestly, Kayce is a good friend.”

Something skips around inside my chest that this impressive, gorgeous man might be a little jealous. Except, I don’t dare bring that up.

There are far too many things this man needs to do today, and me teasing him about Kayce Wilder is just silliness. I’m wearing his damn cuff, after all. If that’s not an assurance that I absolutely, one thousand percent, only have eyes for him, I don’t know what is.

“This isn’t a cattle ranch then?” I ask, looking around at the seemingly endless rows of stalls and horses.

“Just horses here, ma’am.” A rich voice greets us. “I’ll leave the cattle to the cowboys who like running around ropin’ stock all day.”

The man who strides over holds his charcoal color hat in one hand and drags the other through his hair. He’s got that look about him, one that says he’d prefer to be around these creatures all day, while somewhat tolerating people on the side.

As he goes to set his hat back in place, I catch sight of a flash of white curled through the front of his unruly dark curls. It’s dashing and unusual, even though he’s probably around the same age as Storm—or a little older even, now that I’m seeing the salt and pepper of his short beard up close—but that prominent streak of white isn’t because of graying, it looks like it has always been there.

“Briar, this is Lucas Rhodes.”

“Pleased to meet you.” He brushes off dirt against the side of his jeans, then extends a large hand to wrap my palm in his with a firm shake.

“The newcomers are down this way.” Just like that, he steps aside and indicates for us to follow him.

God, I could hug this man for not asking questions about me, who I am, or how I fit into this picture. Obviously this place is busy, and I’m guessing since he’s got plenty of jobs on the go, that doesn’t leave time for chit-chatting.

Although, from the look of him, I suspect he’s not exactly a talker either.

As the two figures ahead of me mutter between themselves in gruff tones about their horsey business, I’m going much slower. Taking my time to peek in on each of the horses and see their names written up next to their stalls filled with shavings and hay.

Some are happy to ignore me. Others swing their long necks my way with curious eyes. A couple hang right over as far as they can reach, showing me impressive rows of teeth as they contort their lips to try and get a good look at what might be hidden inside my coat pockets.

I know enough about Storm’s routine when he’s undertaking his farrier work now. If I tag along with them, I’ll be in his way, plain and simple. He seems to be happiest having his space to work alone and get in his rhythm, then will usually call me over if and when I’m needed.

So, for now, I enjoy being around the animals and watching them. They fascinate me, and calm me, in a way I can’t really put a finger on.

The next stall I get to, I pause in front of. An almost jet-black horse hangs right at the back wall. Big liquid eyes bore into me from behind the longest set of eyelashes I’ve ever seen.

As I stand there, one hoof stamps on the ground. Almost as if I’m being told to move along.

Something makes me stay exactly where I am. It doesn’t really make any sense why, seeing as there are so many horses here, yet I feel like I want to figure out why this boy is urging me not to look his way.

Shoving my phone in my pocket, I hold my palms up and reassure him I haven’t got anything in my hands to be worried about, then step closer to his door. He lets out a snort, stamps again, and bounces his head several times, still hanging as far from where I stand as physically possible.

Fuck off.

His message is loud and clear.

“Hey, boy.” I keep my voice low. Glancing up at the name tag beside his stall, I see that he’s one of the temporary boarders. “Just here visiting, are ya, Teddy?”

His nostrils flare.

“Teddy,” I say his name again with a little smile. “You don’t seem like a teddy bear at all.”

Another stamp. A swish of his tail.

“No way, there’s too much feistiness in you… and you’re very handsome.”

This time, his ears twitch my way.

“I’ll bet you’ve got a soft side under all that bravado, though.”

He moves fast for such a small space, suddenly right up in my grill, and I can’t help my reaction to jerk back a little. The asshole bats those oversized eyelashes at me and makes a noise that tells me he’s pleased with himself.

“Oh, it’s like that, is it? You’re all talk, aren’t you?” I cock my head to one side and step back to where I was a second ago with my arms folded.

Teddy doesn’t shy away this time. Instead, we stand there watching each other for a moment. Eventually, he lowers his head, much slower this time, and nudges my elbow.

“Hmm. Full of bullshit and hot air, and now you want something, you’ll demand it, huh?”

I let my palm roam up the long, elegant line of his nose, feeling heat and short hairs beneath my touch.

His warm, humid breaths puff out, and when I get to the spot between his eyes and start scratching with my fingertips, he makes a rumbling, contented noise from deep inside that powerful chest.

As I keep scratching, I feel eyes on me.

Turning my attention, it’s not my cowboy I’m met with the sight of, but Lucas Rhodes. The man stands with a shoulder leaned up against one of the wooden partition walls, with arms crossed and an ankle hooked over the other. It’s not exactly a smile on his face, but he’s thoughtfully observing our interaction.

For a moment, I worry I’ve done something I shouldn’t have. Lifting my hand away, I’m just about to step back and maybe apologize for standing here patting his horses without asking first when a big black whiskery muzzle bunts my hand.

Lucas starts chuckling.

“I’m sorry.” A smile tugs at my lips. “It seems I’ve ended up being Teddy’s personal scratching post after two seconds of being here.”

“Stay there as long as you like.” He shakes his head and pushes off the wall. When he turns to grab a shovel and pitchfork from the stall behind him, I feel Teddy flinch a little at the sharp sound of metal scraping against the ground.

Except he remains there, letting me continue stroking as I let my fingers drift higher toward his soft ears.

“How long is he staying here for?” I ask.

Lucas joins me. “Not sure. This boy’s had a hard road before now.”

“Oh, really?” My eyebrows scrunch, looking between the two of them.

“He was rescued a few years back. Bastards used to thrash him, and now his current folks are trying to find the best-fit home for him.”

“God, people are awful.” I want to cry. This beautiful horse didn’t do anything, certainly not to be abused.

“You’re not wrong there.”

“He’s so lovely, why would anyone do something so horrible?”

Lucas lets out a little puff of a breath, something like a laugh.

“Our boy here didn’t deserve any of it… which is why he’s such an asshole now. I’ll forgive him for being such a sour bastard, but those bruises take a while to heal.”

“Bruises?”

He clicks his tongue, and squints at the horse I’m practically cuddling. “Your best friend over here has bitten every one of us repeatedly, and even got a good kick-in on my son, Brad, when he was unloading him the day he arrived.”

My mouth hangs open, eyes bounce between the face still nudging against my touch, and Lucas.

“You’re joking.”

“Nothing funny about a horse bite, trust me.” He considers me for a second, then dips his chin toward a bucket sitting on the floor at my feet. “Hell, since you two are getting on so well, might as well give him a groom up down the sides of his neck and if you can reach his shoulders. Stay on this side of the door, mind you, but if he’ll let you keep handling him, might as well give his mane and coat a brush while you’re there.”

I nod. “I’d like to try. Seems like it’d be just as therapeutic for me as it might be for him.”

“Horses are some of the best therapy out there.”

Lucas goes to walk away, then turns back.

“Though, don’t ever own one, or you’ll be horse-poor for the rest of your life.” He whirls a finger in the air, gesturing at the stables we’re standing in amongst and what I’m sure consumes his life, considering all the work that goes into running a ranch like this.

While I’ve only really seen Devil’s Peak Ranch up close, I already know how much work is involved with their day-to-day operations. This place has even more horses than they do to look after.

As I grab the brush from the bucket on the floor, Teddy watches me silently, following me with his neck dipping down to mirror my movements.

When I straighten up, I show him the grooming brush, and he gives it a thorough examination before a huff of approval comes out those big nostrils.

Before getting started, I pull my phone out, snap a quick photo, and send a message to Storm to let him know where I’ve been side-tracked to.