Page 31 of Riding the Line (Willow Ridge #2)

Duke

‘Do you remember that time I joked that you were a serial killer?’ Cherry asks as she hops out of my truck the next week, eyes warily scouring the slightly dilapidated barn ahead. ‘Yeah … you’re really living up to that today.’

Levelling her a look, I shut the truck door once she’s out of the way and snort. ‘We’re on Sawyer’s land still. It’s a short drive from the main ranch. Surely I’d be smarter than that.’

‘Or maybe this is just a ruse to make me think you’re not smart enough to be a serial killer, when really—’

‘Shut up and get walking.’ I give her a playful shove forward, not even overthinking the action for a few seconds before doing it like usual. Not excusing it as just a way to consolidate the idea that I’m her annoying friend. But just simply because it feels right.

To touch her.

I have no idea where the strong boundaries I’d put in place have disappeared to. Because today really has nothing to do with Cherry’s bucket list, nor does she owe me a small moment, yet I still got Jeb to cover me at the bar tonight so I could steal her away for the afternoon.

‘What is this place, anyway?’ Cherry questions, angling her head as she reaches the door. I give the tight, rusty lock a pull, the scrape of metal echoing through the surrounding fields, then haul the sliding door along. It rumbles until it comes to a thud.

‘I like to call it my therapy barn,’ I joke, gesturing for Cherry to enter.

I flick on the lights. Bulbs buzz in the rafters as they illuminate the stacks of canvases on tables – the ones I’d done of Cherry hidden elsewhere – paint pots scattered amongst them, circled around two larger canvases upright in the centre of the barn.

There are sheets below them to catch any paint even though there’s plenty of stains dotted around already.

In the back of the barn, my two motorcycles sit, the light glinting off their black, shiny exteriors, emphasising every sleek curve and angle.

I should probably cover them up but just seeing them calms my heart instantly.

‘Duke, this is … incredible.’ Cherry’s last word comes out on a breath. Her sneakers scuff against the floor as she skips further into the barn, exploring the whole set-up.

‘Sawyer offered it to me a few years back. They were gonna tear the place down – I can’t even remember what for – but I said I could find use for it.

’ I press my lips together, trying to hold back the grin that really wants to explode at the way Cherry’s regarding me with the brightest of expressions.

‘I come here whenever I feel overwhelmed or … sad. It’s my safe space, I guess.

Somewhere I can throw on my favourite music and paint out all my feelings.

Speaking of music, I fish my phone from my pocket and link it to the speaker on one of the tables, choosing Shaboozey’s latest album to play.

‘I, uh …’ I rub the back of my neck, joining Cherry beside the two large canvases. ‘I thought maybe after everything that’s happened in the last couple of weeks – good and bad – you might want to paint it out. Have some time to just create.’

‘I love that idea,’ Cherry admits, running her delicate fingers across some of the half-finished canvases piled on the tables.

‘College can kind of stifle my creativity sometimes. Don’t get me wrong, I love all the interior design projects I get to work on, but sometimes when it’s for an assignment, there’s parameters to what you can do and it can feel a bit forced.

Not like when I worked on Sunset Ranch for Rory and Wyatt – I could just let my creativity flow there. ’

‘I get that,’ I respond, knowing how impressive the transformation she assisted on for Sunset Ranch was. Those redecorated guest houses have Cherry’s keen eye for design written all over them.

‘I hope I get to work on more ranches or retreats wherever I end up working next year,’ she hums.

I perk a brow. ‘Not a lot of ranches in the city.’

‘More reason to come back then, I suppose.’ She meets my teasing smile.

The old flickering lights might not provide the best illumination for painting, but they do everything to highlight Cherry’s beauty, glistening against her silky hair and shimmering along her cheekbones.

Even in her sweatpants and cropped tank top, she’s more beautiful than any work of art I’ve created.

Not even the painting of her floating in the water I made last week could capture anything close to the wonder that is Cherry Hensley.

A wonder I can’t seem to tear my eyes from.

Like a moth to a flame, I’m enraptured, my resolve gone as she gets bolder by the days. Even just thinking about that moment in the pool, the ever so faint brush of her lips on mine, the slide of her wet skin, and the softness of her waist in my grip…

It has me craving another touch.

‘Well, you’ve got two choices.’ I join her where she’s checking the different paint colours.

‘We can just paint quietly for a bit, or—’ I reach down to grab the bucket of balloons filled with paint beside the table and hold it up for her to see ‘—we can throw some paint balloons and make an absolute mess of those big canvases. Your choice.’

‘Um, obviously I wanna throw paint balloons. What!’ She grabs a red balloon from the bucket, tossing it between her hands. ‘This is so cool. You’re actually the best.’

I put the bucket down and give her a quick, nonchalant shrug, even though my heart races at the praise. ‘Anything for you, Baby Hensley.’

‘Yeah?’ Cherry’s tongue darts out to wet her lips, leaving them shining. ‘Well, I don’t know about you …’ She bends down to grab another paint balloon and heads towards one of the larger canvases. ‘But I have a lot of pent-up frustration that this might help me get out.’

‘Frustration?’

‘Oh yeah.’ She perks a brow at me. ‘I think you know the kind I’m talking about.’ And the way she suggestively bites down on her lip afterward has my cock twitching. Fuck, does she mean frustrated … sexually?

‘Right.’ I clear my throat then join her at the big canvas, hefting the bucket of paint balloons with me. ‘Ladies first.’

Cherry takes a deep breath before throwing her balloon with all her might, and it whooshes through the air, making a loud splat as it hits the canvas straight in the middle. Blue paint erupts across the canvas like a liquid firework, plenty scattering along the floor below too.

‘Woo!’ she hollers, giggling straight after. ‘That felt so good.’

Cherry doesn’t hesitate before launching another paint balloon at the canvas.

Her bare shoulders move so loosely beneath her tank top, like any worries weighing on them have vanished.

Swiftly, I pile a few balloons into my arms and begin hurling them at the canvas with all my strength, watching as the purple paint scatters across the green splatter below, colours running together as they drip down the canvas.

Cherry hums beside me as she grabs another couple of balloons, turning to me as she says, ‘You know what, I think there’s just one final thing that’ll help to get all my frustration out.’

I notice the spark of mischief in her eyes a second too late—

Paint explodes in my vision, splattering across my face and arms as one of the balloons collides with my chest. I want to be annoyed, but when all I can hear is Cherry’s silvery laugh bellowing through the barn, I find myself chuckling too as I wipe the paint from my face, revealing her bright, beaming smile completely aimed at me.

God, I love being with her.

The sight and sound of her smile and giggle unleashes my own grin, and I’m shaking my head at how fucking happy this girl makes me. How honoured I am to be the one making her laugh.

‘Oh, you’re dead,’ I warn her, readying one of the balloons in my hand.

I pick up my foot but she’s already dashing away, squealing mixing in with her laughter.

Even though those long legs can carry her quickly, she’s no match for me, and I catch up, launching the balloon at the back of her head.

It breaks against her hair as she screams, green paint dripping all down her back.

And when she turns around to shout at me, I toss another that splatters across her shoulder, drops sprinkling across her face and side too.

‘Oh my God!’ she yells, running her fingers through her paint-drenched hair, but her smile never leaves her face. ‘That’s gonna be a nightmare to get out.’

‘You started it.’ I flash her a smug grin.

Twisting on her heel, Cherry dashes towards me, raising her other balloon, unadulterated laughter ringing out—

The high-pitched squeak of sneakers slipping in paint screeches through the barn. Cherry’s laugh morphs into a screech and suddenly she’s tumbling towards me—

My hands shoot out to catch her but it’s not quick enough and she collides into me, the air whooshing out of my lungs as the room tilts and the paint balloon bursts between us.

We twist awkwardly, legs ravelling around each other. In the split second between falling and smacking against the hard ground, I manage to cradle her head and ensure I take the brunt of the fall.

‘ Oof ,’ she grunts, collapsing against me when we finally hit the floor.

Her legs bracket my thigh, and her knee slides up and squashes all my goods in the impact.

The gut-punching pain rips all the breath from my lungs, the ache wedging deep in the bottom of my stomach – for the second time this summer, goddamnit.

It takes me a good few seconds to finally gulp some air down.

‘I’m so sorry.’ Her body trembles with laughter in my grasp as she braces her hands either side of me to lift herself up. The paint-soaked slice of skin between her top and sweatpants slides against my palms. ‘I kneed you in the balls again, didn’t I?’

‘Just a little bit,’ I croak out, eyes closed.

But the cloud of warm breath that lands against my lips immediately distracts me. My eyes shoot open to find two wild, umber pools glistening down at me.