Page 24 of Broncos and Ballads (Healing Springs Ranch #2)
Venus loved the McQuaid family, especially T.W.
“Have a good day, you two,” T.W. called as she followed Brock from T.W.’s bedroom.
“You too.” She’d wanted to spend more time with T.W., but the crew from Rolling Stone had arrived early and was already waiting for them.
“Today would be a good day to you-know-what, Brock,” T.W. said from a bench where he was doing physical therapy with the PT who came to the house several days a week.
Brock stumbled a step in the hallway but didn’t stop.
“If you need help, you just give us a holler.” T.W. continued the conversation.
Help with what? Venus wanted to prod Brock about it, but he just picked up his pace. The rest of the family was already gone, and Anson, their housekeeper, was busy elsewhere in the house.
After the big birthday party two days ago for Leah, the family had plunged back into the ranch work yesterday.
Venus and Brock had started the day doing more of the ranch activities, but he’d been right that too many people recognized him everywhere he went, and it had cut into their privacy.
So they’d gone back to the house and hung out with T.W. for the remainder of the day.
They only had today left at the ranch before going to Aruba tomorrow. Although she didn’t want to leave the ranch, she understood the complications Brock was facing and why he’d called his manager and made the arrangements to vacation someplace else.
“Go big or go home,” T.W. shouted.
Like the complication of his family thinking they were madly in love and that Brock was considering proposing to her any day. Of course, they were reading the news that had paired her and Brock together as a supercouple, one of the hottest couples—if not the hottest—out there at the moment.
The spotlight wouldn’t last forever, and Kristin had told her they needed to capitalize on the popularity while it lasted.
That meant when she got back from Aruba, she would be busier than ever traveling for photo shoots.
She’d set aside time for Reed’s bachelor party in Los Cabos, but other than that, her schedule was now full beyond capacity.
Brock halted at the island in the kitchen, blew out an exasperated breath, then faced her. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
She waved a hand. “Don’t be. I’m realizing your dad is a huge romantic at heart and thinks everyone else should be.” Sunshine filled the room, coming in from the skylights in the kitchen ceiling as well as through the windows, promising a cloudless, sunny day.
“Yep. That about sums it up.”
All throughout Leah’s party, T.W. had kept pushing Brock to be with Venus.
He’d called for them to be on the same team for horseshoes, badminton, cornhole, and all the other games they’d played.
He’d made sure they sat together for dinner on the deck.
Later, during the bonfire, T.W. had practically pushed her onto Brock’s lap.
She hadn’t minded though. She’d enjoyed every moment of the party at Brock’s side.
She’d thought there might be awkward moments between her and Brock in their attempt to pretend to be close.
But he’d handled everything with a finesse that made their relationship seem believable.
So much so that by the end of the evening, she hadn’t felt like she was acting at all.
She’d fallen asleep against him in front of the bonfire—since she hadn’t made up the sleep from their all-nighter the previous night.
She’d awoken when he’d lifted her to transport her to her room.
She’d told him she could walk, but T.W. had meddled again and insisted that Brock do the right thing and finish carrying her up.
He’d even gone so far as to instruct Brock to give her a goodnight kiss in the hallway and not in the bedroom.
She and Brock had laughed about it once they reached her bedroom. But he hadn’t initiated a kiss in the hallway and neither had she, even though she’d felt the chemistry charging between them, especially in that moment.
Yesterday afternoon and evening, T.W. had been just as pushy, throwing her and Brock together every chance he could find.
But again, his efforts hadn’t bothered her.
She’d found herself enjoying a low-key afternoon playing board games, watching TV, making dinner with Brock, and then having a bonfire on the deck later, just the two of them.
She finally gathered the courage to ask him more about Ainsley Rose and what had drawn him to her, what their relationship had been like, and if he missed her.
He’d initially dated her because they’d both needed each other at important functions.
They’d had some fun together, but Venus had been strangely satisfied to discover that he didn’t miss Ainsley Rose, hardly even thought about her.
Of course, she’d had to answer his question about what she liked about Reed, explaining the start of their friendship in high school, when he’d changed to her school and she’d befriended him when he’d had no one else.
In turn, he’d helped her through one of her mom’s bad breakups, had listened to her, let her cry, and had kept her strong.
Her conversations with Brock reminded her of how she’d once been able to talk with Reed, except there was a constant charge in the air between her and Brock that had never been there with Reed.
Whatever the case, it was for the best that she and Brock were leaving the ranch. She didn’t need to be getting any closer to his family and stirring up longing to have the healthy bonds and love that his family shared. It made her realize all the more how dysfunctional her own family had been.
Brock braced his hip against the kitchen island. “What do you think of the agenda?” He was reading a text Ella Mae had sent them both with the schedule for the day with the Rolling Stone team.
Venus glanced at the list, which included a number of things like riding, hiking, and doing the ropes course. In addition, the team wanted shots of them at the house, hot spring, and the barn. They also wanted pictures of Brock with his guitar.
“The day doesn’t seem too terrible.” She zipped up her slim-fitting jacket that she’d paired with high-rise leggings.
“Too terrible?” Brock’s brow furrowed as he started texting. “I’m putting an end to this.”
“No.” She grabbed his phone from his hand.
His eyes rounded, but he didn’t move.
“I told you I’m willing,” she insisted.
“But I don’t want you dreading the day.”
“I’m not. Don’t forget, I’m used to being followed around by a camera and having my picture taken.”
“You don’t need more of that kind of pressure.” He reached for his phone. “I’m canceling.”
She took a step back and held it up so that he couldn’t retrieve it. “We can’t.”
“I can and I will.” He followed her and stretched after the phone.
She hopped up onto the island so that she was sitting on the edge and then lifted his phone high above her head. “What happened to the everything-is-fun Brock, the one willing to have adventures and do anything?”
“He’s not willing to have adventures that make you uncomfortable.”
“I won’t be.”
With narrowing eyes, he assessed her and the phone above her head. Then before she could react, he lunged, leaning against her and grabbing her arm all in one motion.
She squealed and tried to scramble backward, but he snaked his other arm around her middle and held her in place.
His hold was firm but gentle at the same time, and everywhere her body intersected with his, heat cascaded over her skin.
It was more than just heat. It was heat with a hum of excitement and desire.
It was unlike anything she’d ever felt before with any other man, even Reed.
It felt delicious and yet forbidden at the same time.
With the beginning of his killer grin tipping up the corners of his mouth, he was more than overwhelming. He was demolishing her resistance to him. “My phone, darlin’.” He tugged at her arm in an effort to draw her hand down.
She resisted and jutted her chin, telling herself she was just teasing him, but at the same time, she knew she was playing with fire, because with every passing moment, the flames were dancing higher. “I dare you to take it from me.”
“You dare me, do you?” His grin inched higher.
Oh, she loved this, loved the playfulness and lightheartedness that she had with Brock. As much as she’d appreciated her friendship with Reed over the years, they’d always been so serious with each other.
She tried to pretend to be grave with Brock, frowning at him, but in the next instant, she wrapped her legs around him, locking them at her knees. Then she shoved the phone down onto the counter so that it was outside either of their grasps.
He attempted to spring after it, but the grip of her legs was too tight, halting him in place.
She wrapped her arms around him next, grasping her hands into a locked position at his back, one that would be difficult to break free from as well.
His eyes widened as he glanced down to find himself pinned by her legs and arms.
It was her turn to smile. “You’re not going anywhere, buster.”
“Buster?” His voice rose, as though he was offended at her name, although his grin said otherwise.
“Yes, buster. You’re all mine.” She tightened her hold.
“All yours?” His smile turned suddenly lopsided, and his lashes fell halfway. “Well, darlin’. If you say so.” He stopped straining against her and instead relaxed so that his body sagged into her. His arms slipped around her, his hands flattening against her back.
She didn’t feel in charge of the situation anymore. Even though she had him wrapped up, he’d somehow turned things around so that he was in control of her, almost as if he’d planned it.
“Now that you have me”—his voice dropped several decibels—“what will you do with me?”
Her stomach tumbled over itself, flipping and turning like a gymnast on the uneven bars. Oh, oh, oh. He was good.