Page 41 of Revelry (Cowgirls Do It Better #2)

Tate

“So last time we checked in on your tasks, you hadn’t done a single thing I asked, and this time you’ve done them all?”

Neil hit me with a skeptical look. I got it, he thought I was lying again, and I didn’t blame him, I wasn’t exactly the most truthful last time.

And other than a quick session last month we hadn’t caught up properly.

It seemed like a lifetime ago, so much had changed but at the same time not much had changed at all.

I felt like the shift in me was internal.

“I know how that sounds, but yes.” I glanced down at the magazines on the table which were askew again and although I found it frustrating, I didn’t have quite the same urge to straighten them.

I was calmer. I knew it was because of her.

I started laughing at the idea that unpredictable Gertrude was the one thing my life needed to gain some calm.

Neil’s eyes widened.

“Sorry,” I apologized with a rueful grin.

“No, don’t apologize. I just haven’t seen you laugh before,” he replied. “Tell me then, what have you been doing?”

“I went to the Halloween party, I made some friends. Befriended Jack, for real this time. I spent Thanksgiving with the Cartwrights and I’m taking part in a Cowboylesque charity performance for the ranch.” I pushed out a breath. “And, I met a woman.”

Neil smiled knowingly. “Is this the friend you alluded to last time?”

I nodded.

“Tell me about her?”

“Her name is Gertrude. She used to live next door to me when we were teenagers and she recently came back to town.” I frowned as I thought about when she first turned up, bruised and a little broken.

Neil leaned back on the couch and began to clean his glasses. “What happened just then?”

“What do you mean?”

“Where did your mind take you? It didn’t seem like it was somewhere pleasant.”

I met Neil’s stare. “When Gertrude came home, she had just left her husband. He’d hurt her.” I flinched as her bruised face filled my mind again. “It hurt to see her like that.”

“Did it remind you of your mother?”

“I’d rather not link Gertrude with my mother, if possible.”

“No, I mean, your mother was a shell of herself when your father left. She relied on you so much. This Gertrude has similarities to that. Coming home after a breakup and needing someone to rely on.”

“Gertrude doesn’t rely on me, she doesn’t need me like my mom did.”

“But you still wanted to look after her, didn’t you?”

I shifted uncomfortably because I didn’t like where this was going. Until I thought about it some more. “Actually no. I didn’t want to look after her. I wanted her to leave me alone. I wanted everyone to leave me alone. But she forced her way in.”

Neil chuckled softly. “Sounds like she’s all the way in?”

“What do you mean?” I asked, finally reaching forward and tidying the magazines.

Neil immediately knocked the table and made them messy again.

But even that didn’t bother me as much as usual.

I think I only tidied them to try and avoid his penetrating stare and question, not because I felt the compulsion to do it.

“I mean it sounds like you really care about her?”

“Well I guess, yeah. She’s my friend.”

“Have you slept with her?”

My cheeks immediately heated like I’d been caught out. “Um, maybe.”

Neil whistled. “Good for you. Your usual hookups involve nameless, faceless women. Not the woman who lives right next door who you’ve formed a relationship with.”

I felt like he was getting at something, I just didn’t know what and it was starting to piss me off. “Your point?”

“Who says I have one? I’m just making observations. Do you love her?”

I choked on nothing. “No.”

Neil sat up straighter. “That was quick. Are you sure? Sounds a little too protesty to me.”

I exhaled heavily, my nostrils flaring. “Yes. I don’t get attached like that.”

“Why not?”

My leg started twitching with my agitation. “You know why. Why are you playing dumb?”

“Because it’s fun for me to watch you squirm sometimes. Does Gertrude make you squirm?”

I opened my mouth to tell him no. But then I paused and thought about it.

She did make me squirm. She made me uncomfortable and pushed me out of my comfort zone.

She unnerved me and I liked it. I liked that she pushed me to do things I wouldn’t normally do.

That she cared enough to do that. I’d had more fun and felt more alive in the last few months, than I ever had before.

Even before my father left.

I smiled. “She does.”

Neil just nodded and smiled at me. “You haven’t noticed that I moved the pot plants around and that I didn’t shut the door properly. You’ve only grown agitated when I’ve questioned you and only tried to fix the magazines once and I don’t even think that was compulsion-related.”

I hated how observant he was. I glanced around, glaring at the plant pots. Over my shoulder the door swayed a little in the breeze that flowed from the door downstairs. I glared at the magazines which I hadn’t even tried to fix since Neil disrupted them.

“And?”

Neil laughed heartily at my stony expression.

“Just goes to show what happens when you have someone in your life that cares about you without strings attached. Whoever Gertrude is, she’s good for you.

” He clapped his hands together again, startling me out of my glare.

“You’ve done some incredible work on the lower scales of your ERP hierarchy, now it’s time to tackle the higher levels. ”

*

I was going to head home, ready and eager to get back to Gertrude but I got an emergency call to the practice when Mrs. Foster’s cat, Trixie, suffered a stroke.

The older woman sobbed as she said goodbye to her beloved feline, insisting on holding her while I put Trixie to sleep. Normally I delegated the emotional support to Harriet but she was tied up on the phone so that just left me.

Watching Mrs. Foster gently shushing her cat and soothing her, telling her she would always love her while placing kisses to her fluffy head, had a lump forming in my throat.

I knew what Trixie meant to Mrs. Foster, having overheard all her chats with Harriet whenever she stopped by.

I usually managed to distance myself from moments like this, but not today and I blamed it on my therapy session.

Once Trixie had drifted peacefully to sleep, I placed her back in the cat carrier.

I put an arm around Mrs. Foster, steering her to a small, quiet room with a couch that was for grieving pet owners.

I usually avoided the room altogether, not wanting to interact with anyone, especially someone who was emotionally distraught and needed comfort, but today I found myself wanting to make sure Mrs. Foster was okay.

“Come here, take a seat.” I gestured to the couch and eased her onto it.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do without her,” Mrs. Foster cried, and my heart twinged at the tears that trickled down her softly wrinkled cheeks.

Mrs. Foster came in with Trixie monthly for a check-up and although I tried not to engage in conversation, I had learned that her husband died a few years ago so it was just her and Trixie.

It was going to be hard for her to cope with the loneliness.

“I know it’ll be tough, you’ve had her for a long time, but you gave her an incredible life.

I know most people don’t want to consider this and while it is a little soon, when you’re ready, I’m sure there will be a long line of cats who need adopting and would be lucky to live the life you would give them.

” I thought my words might soothe her, but she cried even harder.

I don’t know why I tried to console her. I was not good with people, never had been and never wanted to be and I immediately regretted trying to help.

“Oh Dr. Wilder, why did you have to go and say something so sweet?” she sobbed into my shoulder.

I don’t think I had ever been accused of that in my life.

Maybe I had said the right thing after all?

I didn’t know. I just patted her shoulder and offered her tissues until her cries quietened to little sniffles.

Eventually Harriet poked her head around the door, and I managed to get out from under Mrs. Foster.

“She’s okay, yah?” Harriet whispered, smacking her gum. I frowned at the sound of it being masticated in her mouth. She flinched and then removed it from her mouth and looked around her for a tissue. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine, Harriet,” I said, hating that I made her feel like she couldn’t even chew gum. Yes it was obnoxiously loud but I shouldn’t be making everyone bend to my will.

“Oh, yah?” she asked and popped the bright pink bubble-gum back in her mouth.

“Yah, I mean, yes.” I ground my teeth. Damn her for rubbing off on me. “I need to head out, are you okay closing up?”

“Yah!”

I lowered my voice. “And don’t charge Mrs. Foster for Trixie. And find out if she would like her cremated. I imagine she’ll want the ashes, that’ll be on us too.”

“Sure thing. That’s real nice of you, Dr. Wilder,” she said and waved goodbye, sitting down next to Mrs. Foster and patting her knee.

I pondered over why it didn’t affect me at all when Harriet called me Dr. Wilder but when Gertrude did it, it stoked a desire in me like nothing else ever had. And then my dick started heating in my jeans and I changed my train of thought.

Heading home, I expected to see that Gertrude was back in her house but she wasn’t.

The lights were on in mine, and I was eager to get home to her.

I parked and hurried inside, going straight to the kitchen but it was empty.

I turned and saw soft lights shining from the living room and I walked through the doorway.

“TA-DA!” Gertrude shouted, startling me.

My eyes took in the room and at what she had done with the space. She had made changes to my home and while it pricked at something inside me that said the place didn’t look right, didn’t look normal, it also didn’t look bad.

I was silent for a while as I took it all in.

“Tate?” Gertrude asked, a hint of worry in her voice.

I glanced at her again, standing next to the shittiest Christmas tree I’d ever seen.

It had barely any needles left on its brown, brittle branches and it was draped with the shiniest, plastickiest tinsel I’d ever seen.

Large, gaudy ornaments hung from the barren twigs and glistened garishly in the lights wrapped around the bare branches.

It was the most hideous thing I’d ever seen.

It was perfect.

I burst out laughing. She had completely ignored my request to not do anything, but she also knew that cozy and sentimental was not the way to go with me. If she was going to disobey me, she’d at least do it properly.

I pinched one of the branches between my fingers and it snapped off with a crisp break which just made me laugh even harder. Then she was laughing too.

“It was the best one in the lot. I couldn’t believe it was still there and someone hadn’t snapped it up,” she wheezed out between giggles.

“Stop it,” I choked. “I can’t believe you spent money on this thing.”

Her laughter subsided and she gazed at me softly, the lights shining in her eyes.

“It was so worth it to see you smile.”

My laughter faded as I stared at her. Why was she so goddamn perfect?

How did she know me so well in such a short amount of time?

Everything she did for me, all her acts of service, were perfectly designed to push me or thrill me.

I wasn’t an easy person to understand and yet she managed it effortlessly.

Gertrude was tying me in knots. I wanted to keep this casual but the way I was beginning to feel about her was anything but.

“What am I going to do with you?” I sighed.

She shrugged one shoulder and toyed with a curl. “I don’t know.”

I prowled to her and pulled her into my arms, dropping my head to slide my mouth against hers.

She opened immediately, I swept my tongue inside and played until we were breathing heavily.

I knelt in front of her and pulled her down, stripping off her shirt and kissing every inch of soft skin I uncovered.

“Not in front of the tree,” she wailed as I pulled a pebbled nipple into my warm mouth.

“Sugar, that’s not a tree. It’s a branch with some tinsel,” I replied.

She snorted which soon turned into a moan as I trailed kisses down her stomach. I unsnapped the button on her jeans, tugging them down her thick thighs, more than eager to get my mouth on her again and get that sweet taste on my tongue.

“But, the ice…ice cream,” she stuttered.

I got two fistfuls of her ass and brought her to my mouth, staring down at her wet flesh.

“Fuck the ice cream.”