Page 29 of Revelry (Cowgirls Do It Better #2)

Gertie

“Are you avoiding me?”

I squeaked as his deep voice took me by surprise.

I turned from the entrance of Cathy’s gallery to find Tate peering down at me.

I hadn’t seen him for a few days, mainly because yes, I had been avoiding him.

As I took him in now I remembered why. His arms were folded across his chest, his white Henley pulled tight and tucked into faded blue jeans, a pair of Timberland boots adorned his feet. He looked mouthwatering.

“Uh, no of course not,” I replied, avoiding his sharp stare and peering over his giant shoulder.

“You’ve just been busy?” He pushed his glasses up his nose and my body tightened with lust.

“Yeah, super busy ever since…” I trailed off.

“Ever since our fun the other night?” He said it so simply, didn’t lower his tone and Mrs. Brown, the owner of the Mini Mart, stared at us as she walked past. I narrowed my stare, mentally telling her to keep walking.

“Jesus, Tate,” I choked out.

He ignored my obvious discomfort, and the attention we were drawing from the smalltown busybodies, I mean, business owners.

“Busy with what?” he asked.

I flapped my hands, looking for something. “With the ranch?”

“Are you asking me?”

“No?”

“Oh Gertrude,” he sighed. “If I’d known you’d go awkward afterwards I wouldn’t have helped you out. I mean, what’s an orgasm between friends?”

I made a choked sound. “Do you do that with all your friends?”

He leaned forward and winked at me. “What other friends?”

Okay, who was this playful man who, well, he wasn’t exactly smiling but his eyes gleamed with such mischief that he may as well have. And since when did he joke about orgasms? Or having friends?

“I need to go,” I said, my cheeks flaming.

He frowned. “You just got here.”

I looked back and forth between the gallery and him. “Were you spying on me?”

He shook his head, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. “Saw you through the window.”

I peered over his shoulder again and spotted the veterinary practice and the gorgeous young woman behind the reception desk painting her nails. Jealousy snagged at me that he spent all day with such a stunning looking woman.

Why was I jealous? Just because we’d been spending time together and I was getting to see what a great guy he was. And he knew all the right buttons to push to make me orgasm with an intensity I’ve never known before…

“Do you wanna grab a coffee?” he asked, cutting through my internal rambling. I dialed back my frenzied thoughts and reminded myself that it was Tate standing in front of me. My friend. Who volunteered to go for a drink? Was he okay?

“Uh, I actually can’t. I’ve just got to pick up some mail for Cathy and then head back to the ranch. I think a couple of the cows are going to go into labor. They’re overdue.” I unlocked the door to Cathy’s gallery and went inside, picking up the stack of mail on the doormat.

“Yeah, I’m on call for any issues.” Tate followed me inside and looked around the unit, whistling low. “Damn, this is a nice place.”

I stared at him before turning my gaze around the store.

The large windows flooded the space with plenty of natural lighting.

The white Formica countertop that ran along the back in front of a private office.

I ducked around Tate and headed into the office just to check everything was okay and saw it also had a small kitchen attached to it.

“That’s pretty cool,” Tate said, crowding behind me and peering into the kitchen.

“Do you mind?” I nudged him back, my elbow digging into his solid stomach. “When did you get so nosy?”

“Oof,” he grunted, rubbing the spot I’d hit, and his shirt clung to the ridges of his six-pack. My mind flashed back to the other night, and I wondered if he’d been naked when he touched himself. I pictured his muscles contracting as he thrust into his hand and…

God, could I think about anything other than sex? When did I become such a pervert?

“I just wanted to see how much more space they had over here compared to me. I prefer my layout, much simpler. But this would be a good space for a coffee shop or, say, an ice cream parlor…something like that...” He gave me a knowing smirk, and I rolled my eyes before dragging him out.

I checked the rest of the space, thinking the window seat would be a great place to put some cushions for people to have an ice cream sundae and watch the world go by. I blinked at the thought and shoved it away before stepping outside and locking up again.

“So, when’s the next adventure?” he asked.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Since when are you so keen to hang out?”

He shrugged. “I told you. I’m having fun with you.” His expression was clear and sincere, and I was pleased that he actually enjoyed the time we spent together. I did too.

“Fine, Friday night. Let’s get pizza.”

“Pizza?” His nose wrinkled adorably. “That doesn’t sound very adventurous.”

“Trust me, Tate. Have I steered you wrong so far?”

He peered at me, a small smile flirting with his lips. “No, you haven’t.”

*

That Friday night, I looked at myself in the hallway mirror and decided I looked acceptable for a non-date outing with Tate.

Other than telling him what time to be ready, I hadn’t spoken to him since we bumped into each other the other day. I’d taken to showering at the ranch so I wouldn’t be wet and naked around him anymore as my willpower was non-existent after our little fun the other night.

I hadn’t gotten him out of my mind once. I was going crazy, replaying everything about our phone call. The breathy rough rasps he made, the confident way he told me what to do and the ease with which he brought me to ruin scared me.

I wanted more.

But I wasn’t going to do this. I wasn’t going to get tangled up with someone who didn’t want to get entangled. Tate was very clear about not wanting to get close to someone or have a family and I figured that extended to having a romantic partner too.

Sure, friends with benefits was a thing, but I knew myself. I would get attached.

Deep down, as much as I pretended I was fine, I just wanted to be loved, desperately. And I didn’t think that kind of love was out there for me so I wasn’t going to waste my life being disappointed.

I also didn’t flatter myself that he even wanted to sleep with me.

I knew how guys worked, sometimes they just needed a release.

Which was why I’d since been careful to be extra quiet with my nighttime activities.

I replayed every word that fell from his lips during our call and every time I had a toe-curling, mind-numbing orgasm.

I wasn’t sure I could look him in the eye without blushing considering the amount of times he’d made me come without knowing it.

There was a knock at the door. I smoothed my hand over my denim dress and pushed out a breath before opening it.

Tate was standing on the other side, his expression pensive, his dark hair swept back off his forehead and he’d left his glasses at home for the night.

He looked like the sexiest lumberjack I’d ever seen in his red checkered shirt, black jeans and boots.

His shirtsleeves were rolled up, exposing muscled forearms and long tapered fingers that I imagined could work wonders.

“You look nice,” I breathed, willing my pounding pulse to calm.

He frowned at me, eyes giving me the once over before clenching his jaw. “You too.”

I pulled on my lilac cowgirl boots and grabbed my purse before stepping out. Tate didn’t step back so I just bumped into the rock-hard wall of his chest.

“Sorry,” he muttered, turning awkwardly.

I shook myself, wanting to get rid of this weird funk we’d slipped into.

Gah, see? Sex ruins everything.

“Who’s driving?” he asked as I locked up.

“Both of us,” I turned, giving him a big grin.

He scrubbed a hand over his stubbled jaw, sighing loudly. “Why do I feel like there’s a but coming?”

“Because it’s me so there’s always a but,” I joked and hurried around the side of the house and came back with two bikes.

“We’re biking?” He looked to the stars. “Lord, give me strength.”

“Oh, come on, you big fuddy duddy. Just hop on and ride it!”

He screwed up his face. “Did you just call me a fuddy duddy?”

“Get on the bike, Tate.” My tone was firm and left no room for argument. After some grumbling, he swung his leg over and looked ridiculous on the tiny bike. I smothered a laugh behind my hand when he dinged the bell then groaned.

“Race you to Tony’s!” I shouted, pushing off and pedaling as hard as I could. The cool breeze rushed through my hair and I knew it was going to be a wild tangle by the time we got to the pizzeria.

I glanced over my shoulder and saw him gaining on me, his face twisted in competitive concentration. I giggled as he sailed past, his legs lifted from the pedals, showing off. He wobbled dramatically and I guffawed as he struggled to get control of the handlebars.

We raced all the way to Tony’s, arriving out of breath and arguing over who cheated.

“You tried to steer me into that giant puddle!” he accused.

“You’re such a baby, it was a tiny bit of water.”

“It was a lake!” he insisted as we pushed open the door to Tony’s. The scent of dough, tomato sauce and burned cheese hit me. I was immediately propelled back to high school, sitting in a booth with my lame boyfriend, gawping at Tate while he served us and refused to meet my stare.

God, I’d wanted him to notice me so bad back then.

I dragged him by the hand to a booth and he sat opposite me, dusting off the remaining crumbs before rearranging the tray of sauces and pulling out a menu. He pretended to study it but I knew him better.

“You’re gonna pretend to read it and act like you don’t order the exact same thing every time?”