Page 14 of Revelry (Cowgirls Do It Better #2)

Tate

She thinks I have a stick up my ass.

My eyes flicked to Gertrude as I stuck the syringe in the cow who lowed softly but otherwise didn’t flinch.

Why did it bother me so much that I knew she thought that way about me?

The woman in question rubbed the cow’s neck gently to ease the sting before she led it away.

The animal was huge compared to her and I could barely see the top of her head around the cow.

She wasn’t speaking to me except in clipped responses or when necessary, which irked me more than it should for someone who preferred not to socialize. Except I was going to have to change my stance on that or I would lose my therapist. The therapist with whom I’d actually made the most progress.

Gertrude returned with another cow, staying at its head, holding firm and murmuring to it softly. I pulled the cap off the next syringe with my teeth, inserting it into the bottle and pulling back the plunger. “How many more?”

“Ten,” she replied, not meeting my eye.

I pushed my glasses up my nose, my nostrils flaring in irritation.

Previously, she’d annoyed me with her insistent questions and interfering, but it annoyed me even more when she was like this.

She wasn’t herself with me, wasn’t prodding at me and asking inane questions.

I’d done that. I’d snapped at her that we weren’t friends so now she treated me like a stranger. Exactly how I had wanted her to.

Or so I’d thought.

I needed to fix this. I actually wanted to fix this but I would pick over that another time.

“So,” I began, reluctantly. “How would one remove a metaphorical stick from their ass?” I watched her over the top of my glasses as I smoothed a hand over the cow’s neck and down her back, making her aware of my presence so as not to startle her and have Gertrude injured.

Her lip quirked at one corner and my eyes locked on it, wanting to know how to tease the other side to do the same. “Do you think you have a metaphorical stick that needs removing?”

“It’s been mentioned that maybe I do.” I tilted the cow’s head at an angle, letting the vein fill with blood, ready for the injection.

“I would start by hanging out with friends. Have a few drinks. Feel yourself relax and get loose. Maybe laugh, I dunno,” she shrugged, murmuring to the cow when she started to shuffle from the discomfort.

“Hold tight, Gertrude,” I grunted, trying not to snap the needle.

“I’m trying, Tate,” she replied through gritted teeth.

Finally, I was done and released the cow, stroking her gently.

“You were such a brave girl,” Gertie cooed. “Yes, you were, the bravest girl in the pasture.”

I shook my head at her, torn between smiling and finding her tone of voice ridiculous. We continued on with vaccinating the last nine cows and then I was done for the day, but the frost still lingered between me and Gertrude.

“I’m sorry about what I said. That we weren’t friends,” I said, as I zipped up my leather bag containing all the empty bottles and syringes.

I waited for her trademark smile to lift her lips, but it didn’t. She considered me with those piercing eyes that I now knew had flecks of mauve in them. “It’s fine Tate, you were right. We aren’t friends.”

With one last look, like she hadn’t just knocked the wind out of me, she left the pasture. All warmth followed her, leaving me standing there feeling the chill of fall that I hadn’t felt while she’d been here with me.

I didn’t want friends, hadn’t wanted friends.

Except when she confirmed we weren’t, it struck a chord in me. Now, strangely all I wanted was for her to be my friend.

*

Glancing down at the pint of ice cream in my hand, I knocked on Gertrude’s door.

I could feel the butterflies in my stomach taking flight. I was a grown man, why was I nervous to speak to her?

Maybe because you’re not her favorite person right now?

Good point.

I saw her shadow through the glass and then she was standing in front of me.

A white oversized sweatshirt reading In My Cowgirl Era adorned her chest and she was wearing some more pulse pounding black denim cut off shorts paired with her lilac cowgirl boots.

My heart stuttered in my chest at the sight of her.

“Yes?” She arched a delicate black brow at me, sizing me up. Her eyes locked on the pint of ice cream; my peace offering.

“I, uh, wanted to bring you this.” I held it out to her but she didn’t take it. If anything her lip curled in disgust. “And to ask for a favor.”

She inhaled sharply, still glaring at the ice cream. “Well, you’ve immediately pissed me off so I’d say your chances at a favor aren’t good.”

Shit.

I frowned and looked between her and the treat. “I thought you liked ice cream?”

She shook her head. “I love ice cream. When I make it.”

“Ah,” I glanced down at the frosty traitor in my hand. “I think I see where I’ve gone wrong.”

“Do you?”

It was a trick question, the blankness of her expression was a trap, I just knew it.

“I’m scared to answer.”

“As you should be.” But she stepped to one side, an invitation for me to enter. “You know, for a doctor and everything, you’re not too bright.”

I tentatively walked past her. It was a narrow entranceway and although she moved back, it wasn’t enough and I brushed against her.

The house was built similarly to mine, only the opposite layout. The kitchen on the left, the living room on the right. I always felt like Gertrude would be a messy person, her surroundings matching her chaos but the house was surprisingly tidy.

“I didn’t mean to offend you. This is actually my favorite ice cream and thought it would be a good peace offering.”

Her lip curled again and she gestured to the tub. “ This is your favorite?”

I again regretted my life choices in bringing her this ice cream. “Well…” I didn’t finish.

She pushed past me and hurried into the kitchen. I trailed after her, watching as she tugged open a drawer and pulled out a spoon, holding it out to me. “Eat it.”

I looked between her and the outstretched spoon. “But I got it for you?”

“And I want you to eat it.” She wiggled the spoon at me. It was another test but I figured I’d see where this one went. I huffed and took it from her, pulling open the lid of the ice cream and digging into it. I arched a brow at her before shoving the spoonful of strawberry ice cream into my mouth.

She stared at me as I ate it, her eyes probing my face for a reaction.

“It’s nice,” I said, swallowing and feeling the cool treat slide down my throat.

She snorted and once again pushed past me. Did she not know how to go around someone? She opened the freezer door and pulled out one of the drawers. The plastic tray scraped over the ice in a nerve-pinching shriek and I struggled to hide my shudder.

Gertrude came back with an unlabeled Tupperware tub and dropped it loudly onto the kitchen counter and tore open the lid. She seized the spoon from me and slid it through the surface of the ice cream and I watched as it curled into a perfect whirl on the spoon.

She faced me, standing on her tiptoes and held the spoon in line with my mouth. “Open up.”

I stared down at her horrified. She wobbled on her tiptoes and it was instinct to grab her elbow, holding her steady, pulling her further towards me.

“Come on. Before it melts,” she said, her voice deepening as her eyes dipped to my lips.

I opened my mouth and she gently slid the spoon inside until I felt it hit my tongue and I closed my lips around it. Immediately the strawberry flavor burst onto my tongue; tangy, sharp but oh so sweet as well.

Moaning, I closed my eyes at the creamy perfection.

Gertrude tried to pull the spoon back but I wasn’t finished, there was still ice cream on it.

I shackled her wrist and held it in place.

A small gasp from her had my eyes flying open, as I scooped the last remaining bit of ice cream up with my tongue.

I could feel her chest heaving against me. Her eyes wide, her mouth forming a perfect O. I stroked over the pulse thudding in her wrist. Her skin was as smooth as silk and I wondered if all of her was this soft.

Except I felt like I already knew the answer to that.

I found myself staring at her mouth too intensely, wondering what flavors it tasted of and if I could sample it.

The thought alone snapped me out of my daze.

I cleared my throat. “Okay, I get it.” I lifted the branded ice cream tub I’d brought. “This is trash.”

A satisfied smirk made its way onto her pink lips.

“Good, I’m glad we settled that. Now what favor did you want to ask me?

” She returned her tub of ice cream to the freezer and I nearly whimpered, wanting more.

The tub I’d brought was tossed into the trash; no way would I ever want to eat that again after sampling more of hers.

“You’re fun,” I stated and then didn’t say anymore.

My brain wasn’t working properly because she bent over in front of me to wipe up some spilled ice.

Her glorious round ass on display, just for me and I lost my train of thought.

Words evaporated from my brain and I was struck dumb.

The bottom of each cheek was just visible from where her shorts rode up.

She straightened and then looked at me, popping a hand on her hip. “And?”

I cleared my throat and willed away the erection that was currently forming. I moved to stand behind one of the dining chairs, so I didn’t embarrass myself. I needed to check off the get laid portion of my homework from Neil. Stat.

“It’s come to my attention that I don’t have any.”

She arched a brow. “Did it come to your attention when I said you have a stick up your ass?”

I hesitated. “Maybe.” A small smile crossed her face. “Anyway, I want us to team up to have fun. It sounds like you’re going through a tough time so really, it’s a favor for you too,” I finished.

“Oh wow, how magnanimous of you.” Sarcasm dripped from her tone.

“You know what I mean,” I grunted, annoyed her sassy attitude wasn’t making my erection disappear. “You’ve had a divorce, it’s been tough, and I think we could both use something light-hearted.”

“And you seem so excited about it,” she joked.

I rolled my eyes. “Well, it doesn’t come naturally to me.”

“Fun?”

I pointed to my butt. “Remember, stick in ass?”

She nodded, not even bothering to smother her smirk. “Okay then. I can do fun for us.”

“Just, you know, nothing illegal, obviously.”

“I’m offended at the insinuation. Anything else?”

“And no heights. They’re a hard no.”

She clicked her finger at me. “Got it.”

I rocked forward on my heels, tucking my hands into the pockets of my Wranglers. “When do we start?”

She hit me with a hard stare. “You’re not having fun right now?”

I blinked. “Erm, of course. I just meant, you know, the official fun?”

She chuckled. “Official fun takes time. I’ll let you know.”

“Great. Then I shall wait to hear from you.” I turned to go, feeling my limit for peopling was hit.

“Oh, Tate?” she called after me.

I stopped in the hallway and looked back towards the kitchen where she stood in the doorway looking cute as a button. I was annoyed my brain thought that. “Yeah?”

“You can stare at my ass whenever you want.” She winked and my cheeks heated at being caught. I just nodded and turned on my heel, eager to get out of here before I gave into the urge to bend her over the kitchen table to take another look at that outstanding rear end of hers.

*

Gertrude’s message came through a couple of days later when I had my arm up a cow’s ass. It’s a glamorous job. I pulled off my full arm plastic glove, the cow lowing in relief and tugged my phone out of my jeans back pocket.

Unknown: It’s Gertie.

Unknown: I stole your number from Kat.

Unknown: First appointment on the Fun Agenda…

Unknown: Or as I like to call it “Fagenda.”

Unknown: Wait, that sounds like vagina.

Unknown: I’ll come up with a new name.

Unknown: Anyway…

I wiped my hand over my mouth to smother the smirk trying to make its way onto my face.

She was a multiple messager. The worst kind of messager in my opinion, but it shouldn’t have surprised me. I saved her number and waited for the rest of her brainwave to come across.

Gertrude: Daisy has been helping Max plan a Halloween event at The Lonely Bison so that’s our first stop.

Gertrude: There’s going to be a Monster Mash-Off, costume competition and apple bobbing, stuff like that.

Gertrude: Lots of gentle fun to be had to start you off slowly.

Gertrude: So make sure you get a costume ready.

A party? Parties, especially in venues full of people, were not my idea of a good time. But I was doing this to push myself and I would just have to trust her.

Me: K.

There was a pause and then it said she was typing.

Gertrude: K?

Gertrude: Just K?

Gertrude: Not, thank you Gertie for finding us something fun to do?

Gertrude: For coming up with an agenda?

Gertrude: For giving me another chance after being an unrivalled douchebag? For helpign me with my stick-ectomy?

I could picture her nose wrinkling in annoyance, her eyes flashing and a giddy feeling overtook me.

Me: *helping

I was getting far too much joy from our interaction.

She enjoyed pushing my buttons, well I enjoyed pushing hers too. I wondered what it would take to get her all riled up and spittin’ fire.

Gertrude: *Sighs*

Gertrude: Saturday 7pm, I’ll pick you up.

Gertrude: BYO costume.

Me: Thx.

I put it in my calendar and set a daily alert to remind me.

A heavy sensation rested in the pit of my gut, but I tried to ignore it.

I didn’t want to have to go out to a party, it was the worst thing I could think of, but I needed to at least try.

And of all the things my anxiety thought Gertrude would conjure up for us, a Halloween party was pretty tame.

I needed to get better, or at least to a manageable degree where my OCD didn’t impact my quality of life.

If going out and having fun was the way to do it, then I would give it a try.

Hell, there were worse ways to try and fix myself.

I refused medication for a specific reason.

I would never touch that stuff and if this was one of the only other options then fine.

But I drew the line at BYO costume.