Brayden (Wild Men Book 6) Page 2

  He curls his hand around my hip and draws me flush to him. The feel of his growing erection against my stomach jolts me back to reality. Fear once again overwhelms me as I remember what almost happened in the house. The lust that had taken over my brain disappears, and I go rigid in his arms.

  He lets me go immediately. “I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have done that.”

  I wish I could tell him yes, he should have. It was the most alive I’ve ever felt in my life.

  Instead, I take off his hat and try to give it back to him. “Thanks for lending me this.”

  But he pushes it back to me. “Keep it. You can return it next time we see each other.”

  I stare at him. “But…” I don’t even know who you are.

  “Please let me help you,” he says. “I can take you home.”

  But I back away. This guy is obviously not Noah, but he’s a football player and a cowboy all the same, and I clearly have proven myself to be a terrible judge of character. If I had any clue at all, I never would have come to this party or crushed on Noah in the first place. And to kiss a total stranger like I just did? I cannot trust myself. Not anymore.

  “Don’t worry about me.” I take one last look into his sapphire blue eyes that are so bright they nearly blind me. “I’ll be okay. You’ll never see me again, anyway.”

  Carrying his cowboy hat in my hand, I run to my car as fast as I can, turn the key in the ignition, and drive away from the ranch.

  And for the next twelve years, I was right—he never saw me again.

  Chapter Two

  Present Day

  Brayden

  “Fweet!!!” Standing in the middle of the ranch I plan to buy one day soon, I blow hard on my whistle, and the pack of animals—otherwise known as a high school football team—stop running laps around the field I’ve designated for informal practices.

  All fifty-two players, plus the other assistant coaches, turn their heads and look at me. The head coach is sick and left me in charge for the day.

  “One more lap,” I say.

  A collective groan goes up through the team, but they comply and start jogging past the wire fence separating them from the cows grazing nearby. Due to heavy spring flooding, Wilcox High’s athletic fields are out of commission for a while. So even though Big River Ranch is a town over from Wilcox, it was the best available option, given the fact that I live here and could offer a safe, solid field to practice on. Between my brother, the Wilcox coaching staff, and myself, we had the field chalked and ready to go in no time. For me, less travel has meant more time to ride the ranch and look after everything.

  My life is full between riding, herding cattle, and coaching, but I was a player once too. Star wide receiver for Wilcox High. I played alongside my cousins, Colton and Dylan. They’re both now successful stars in the pros.

  But most of us don’t make it to the professional level. Some, like me, don’t want that kind of grind and stressful lifestyle, so we never plan for the draft, and some don’t have the talent to make it past tryouts.

  Either way, the simple fact is—the vast majority of high school athletes need a plan for when they leave the football field. And that’s really why I coach these kids. I try to be a resource to them, to help them find tutors if they need to pull up their grades, help them figure out what college is best, and make sure they know that most of us aren’t Dylan or Colton Wild.

  The other assistant coaches keep talking amongst themselves, and I give their conversation part of my attention, making sure to keep my focus on the players.

  As they pass the makeshift end zone on the left, a movement behind the wire fence catches my eye.

  I take a step forward.

  A woman is bent over at the waist as she picks something up only a couple feet away from the small group of cows hanging out by the fence.

  She’s over fifty yards away, but something about her causes my gut to twist in a strange way, and I suck in a breath. Her high heels are no match to the rough terrain, and she stumbles as she digs at whatever the hell she’s doing. Her long chestnut hair covers most of her profile, but her body…it’s perfection. Curvy and tall, and when she stands up straight, I get a look at her face.

  She’s…intense. Serious. Almost like she hasn’t smiled in a long time. Her dark cat-eye glasses give her a sexy librarian look.

  And she’s…familiar somehow.

  Without thinking about it, I raise my hand in a hello, but she’s already turned away. She waves at the cows, and I chuckle as she ducks underneath the ranch fencing and turns the corner.

  The trespasser is gone.

  “Hey, Coach Wild!” Wes, the captain and starting quarterback for Wilcox High, calls out to me. “We done yet?”

  I glance at my watch. Right on time for me to go for a quick ride before heading to my new part-time job, one that will hopefully help me to accomplish the two things that stir my soul: live on my own Montana ranch and still be around football as much as possible.

  I need my own land. Having been raised on a six-hundred acre ranch, room to roam is essential for me, and sharing the family ranch with my siblings, especially my oldest brother, would never work. One of us would end up killing the other. Luke and I love each other, but we’ve never lived together well.

  I give Wes the thumbs up. “All done for today. See you tomorrow after classes—if you’re late, you know what that means!”

  As soon as the players and coaches have taken off, I head for the barn. I need my daily ride.

  I tack up Blazer quickly, and within minutes, I’m in the saddle and trotting through the first field to the open pastures beyond. With the Bitterroot Forest on my left, I urge Blazer into a gallop. He’s my favorite horse for a reason—we both like to pretend we can fly.

  Blazer follows the southern edge of the hundred-acre property, and as we reach a section of the ranch with an open view of our neighbors, my gaze catches on a truck disappearing down the makeshift dirt road at the back of the property. Going that way, he would never pass the main house.

  I know that truck doesn’t belong to the Eastons, the family who’s owned the ranch next door for four generations. Chuck Easton’s been having some health issues, and I try to keep an eye on things for them when I can. I pull up on Blazer, watching until the truck disappears out of sight.

  A shiver of cold dread shoots down my spine. Something doesn’t feel right about this, and I make a mental note to check back when I have more time.

  “Come on boy.” A light tug of the reins, and Blazer turns around, taking me back to Big River.

  Time to get to my new job.

  Leleila

  I hustle away from the field where I collected my sample of cow dung for Save the Soil. The owners of Big River called and asked for us to take a specimen, but they’re out of town, and I don’t know who’s in charge while they’re away. Most likely, the information wasn’t passed on, and I don’t want to run into another ranch hand convinced I’m trying to steal his cows.

  I’ve made it about ten feet when my cell rings. Phillip wants to confirm that I’m okay going to the Galapagos Islands for our honeymoon. He thinks the Galapagos is the sensible thing to do.

  I want to tell him it’s supposed to be a honeymoon, not a science project, but I hold my tongue.

  “Phillip, the Galapagos is fine. And since we can’t go to Africa next year like we planned on…”

  He cuts me off, sounding excited for the first time since I failed my dissertation. “Don’t worry, honey. I have a new idea. One that could still get us to Africa right after the wedding.”

  “What? How?”

  “I’ll tell you at home.”

  Phillip’s always been superhuman in my eyes—brilliant, handsome, and opinionated. He swept me off my feet back in high school biology, and I don’t know that I’ve come down yet. He aced all the tests, and I leaned on him to miraculously pull off an A minus. But more than that, he was there—constant and reliable—when everything in my world felt da
ngerous and black.

  Now, he’s still kicking ass out there in the world of academia, and I don’t know if it matters, but there’s something about being with a hero that feels…lonely.

  Like my parents, he never stops trying to heal the planet. At twenty-nine, he’s the youngest tenured professor ever at the University of Montana where he focuses on the fragility of ecosystems. And his latest research is for a paper he hopes will be published in the Scientific Ecology Journal’s winter issue. He’s my parents’ ideal man for me, and I’m pretty sure they can’t figure out how I got so lucky.

  As Phillip rattles off all the perks of the hotel he found for us in the Galapagos, I cut across the empty lot until I reach Main Street. I walk down the street of our small Old West town of Mountainview and turn into the parking lot of Big Sky Natural Grocer & Ranch Supplies. He continues to talk while I duck inside the Save the Soil suite that’s adjacent to the grocery store and drop off the soil specimen I’d collected.

  I’d left my car in the parking lot when I went to collect the soil, but before I drive home to sit by myself, I decide to pay my sister a quick visit.

  As I walk the few steps to the grocery store and enter through the front door, I call out a hello to June working the counter over by the bagels.

  Through the phone, Phillip says he needs to secure our hotel room today, and I tell him to go ahead and book it. “Just get a nice room,” I say. After all, we only get one honeymoon.

  We finally hang up then, and I let out a long breath. From her register, June raises her eyebrows at me in that annoying way she has of expressing her constant disdain for my fiancé. I get it. My younger sister doesn’t like Phillip. We’ve gone around in circles over this for years. And because she doesn’t know the whole story, I cut her slack. I head over to her, tugging my suit jacket down where it keeps riding up on my hips.

  Before I can comment on her still-raised eyebrows—

  “June, you want the squash put into the far bin, over by the lettuce?”

  The low, sexy tone of voice gets my attention.

  I shift my stance and swallow as I stare at the attractive, muscular guy holding a carton of squash in his arms.

  A tattoo peeks out from the cuff of his shirtsleeve. Just a hint of wings but enough to give me pause.

  I raise my head so I can take in all of him.

  Hotter than sin body.

  A strong jaw and kissable mouth.

  Sapphire blue eyes that are focused right on me.

  He’s more mature and has a shirt on, but I’d know him anywhere.

  I’m face to face with the Keep Montana Wild guy I kissed and then ran away from twelve years ago.

  Chapter Three

  No way.

  As our eyes lock, I jump. Shock waves shoot through my body.

  I push my glasses up on my nose and keep unabashedly looking at him.

  His wavy, dirty blond hair is still shaggy and untamed, and he’s still dressed casually but perfectly, this time in worn blue jeans and a t-shirt that says “Ranch Life.” His cowboy boots are…really sexy, and his muscled body is trim and tanned.

  He keeps his intense gaze directly on me as June answers him in the affirmative, and I surprise myself when I maintain the eye contact. He looks down my body slowly and then back up to my face where his eyes linger on my red lipstick. By the time he pulls his gaze back up to meet mine, I’m shaking.

  He gives me a quick nod and then walks away with his carton. I watch him leave, my gaze trained on his ass. He’s got a nice ass. And nice—okay, fucking amazing—blue eyes that still sparkle.

  Did he recognize me? I can’t be sure. He didn’t give any indication that he had. Well, he’s certainly more memorable than I am. And it was twelve years ago.

  Without thinking why I’m doing it, I reach for my tight bun and undo it, letting my hair fall past my shoulders.

  I turn back to June, hoping she won’t notice how much I’m shaking. “Who is that?”

  She smiles as she counts her drawer. “That’s Brayden Wild. He just started working here. I thought you might notice him.”

  Brayden Wild. All these years, and I never knew his name.

  “What? Why? Why would I notice him?” I say it in a low voice in case Brayden has super-good hearing. But when I look over toward the squash bins, he’s no longer there.

  “Just a hunch.” June’s finished with the ten dollar bills and has moved on to the fives. “He lives on Big River Ranch right behind the store. I met him when I relocated Big Sky Grocer here last month.”

  “I was just at Big River collecting a sample. Isn’t that the ranch you’ve decided to get a lot of your meats from?” I ask.

  “Right. We’re also going to buy eggs and organic produce from them. And Brayden needs extra cash right now, so he’s going to help me out part-time with extra stocking and other things. I guess he’s saving up to buy the ranch from Phil and Betsy. Now that they’re in Florida most of the year, they want to sell it.”

  “Brayden’s going to buy it?”

  “That’s his plan. He’s also an assistant football coach for Wilcox High.”

  “The state champions one town over?” I nearly gasp like some sort of swooning fan. I wonder if Wilcox is the school he played for.

  “Those are the ones. He’s been coaching them for years. His body’s sure built like a football player, huh?”

  “Sure is,” I say without thinking. Always was.

  She glances up to wink at me teasingly. “Good thing you look so hot today. Did you have another job interview?”

  “Yep.” For good luck, I dressed in my best business suit and black heels to match. I even applied mascara and lipstick—a rarity for me. It was all in an attempt to feel professional and grown up. I should feel grown up all the time, I suppose, since I’m twenty-eight years old, but chronological age doesn’t always equate with maturity. “I don’t think the interview went well. No surprise there. Overqualified, blah, blah, blah.”

  “Don’t give up hope yet, Lei. You’ll get something.”

  “I better.”

  “I’m sorry you failed your dissertation, as you know. But I have an idea.”

  “No,” I say.

  June’s nose wrinkles in that way it does when she’s momentarily stymied. “You don’t know what I’m going to ask.”

  “And yet, I can already tell I won’t like the idea.”

  “I think you should work here for me.”

  I burst out laughing. “Ha, ha. That’s funny.”

  “Seriously. You know how a lot of the professors stop in. Working here will keep you connected to the university while you’re banned from the department…” She stops talking when she sees the look on my face. “While you’re working on your thesis from home,” she rephrases.

  “I wasn’t technically banned. I know Gerry said I have to take a break, but I doubt working here is what he had in mind.”

  “Just while you’re figuring things out,” June says. “I can even pay you.”

  “I write your monthly store newsletter for free,” I say. “And I’d do this for free too, whatever it is. I’m not going to be your employee, believe me.”

  “Fine,” June says. “No money exchange then. You can start with something small like the sign out front that’s so faded. You have a painting portfolio, Lei. Or have you forgotten?”

  I flush. “That part of my life is a closed book, June.”

  “Right. I forgot,” she says even though I know she didn’t even remotely forget. “Let’s circle this conversation back to more important things. Like the hot cowboy who just got you to let your hair down.”

  “June…” I warn her. I never told anyone in my family about that night in high school, and I don’t plan to start a confessional right now.

  Flustered, I head down aisle four to pick up breakfast for the week.

  I walk quickly until I reach the nine-grain granola bin, which June inexplicably keeps at nearly eye level. I grab the plastic spoon
from the tray above my head and then open the cereal bin and dig in. As soon as I’ve filled the spoon, I realize I forgot to grab a plastic bag to put the granola into. I don’t want to put the spoon back down because then the granola will start to slide off the spoon, and I’ll have to start over. I’m lazy that way. So I keep my left hand on the spoon inside the open bin and stretch my body as far as I can to the right so I can rip a bag off the holder with my other hand.

  It takes a few seconds to separate the perforated lines from the next bag, and when they finally do come apart, the effort sends me off-balance. The spoon comes out of the bin, and granola spills everywhere.

  “Shit!” I say loudly.

  Still holding the now-empty spoon, I step back, and that’s when I see Brayden squatting below me just to my left. He’s got a cardboard box filled with cereals next to him and, courtesy of me, granola all over his head. His blond hair comes down past his ears and stops in a wavy style on his neck. It’s really nice hair, hair that I’ve now messed up with granola.

  “Oh, God.” I stand awkwardly with the spoon in my hand. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you there.”

  Brayden stands up and brushes granola off his hair. “I think I’ll live,” he says with a smile.

  Laying the spoon on the shelf, I step forward to try to help clean up my mess. As I do, I slip on the granola coating the floor.

  “Oomph.” I pitch forward, arms flailing as I grasp at anything to keep me from bashing my face on the ground.

  What I find is Brayden’s nice, solid chest. My hands grip at the soft fabric of his shirt at the same time that his arm curves around my waist and keeps me upright.

  “You okay?” His voice is still low, like super-sexy low.

  My face is buried in his chest, and I don’t know why I’m not moving. It sounds crazy to say, but I feel more at peace in this one moment than I have in years.

  Brayden’s hands go to my shoulders, and he gently rubs my back. “It’ll be okay. It was just surprising is all.”