His Sexy Smile Page 17

  “It sounded like a lot more than that,” he said. “You told Cassidy you would see him soon before we were leaving. Was that supposed to be some sort of code between the two of you?”

  I looked at Colt incredulously. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You can’t honestly think that’s even close to realistic.”

  “You said you would see him soon,” Colt said.

  “And I figured that you would want to go on Thursday,” I said. “Even if we didn’t make the commitment to going on Thursday, that’s just something that people say at the end of conversations.”

  I was really surprised by Colt’s reaction. It wasn’t that I expected him to be immediately jubilant at the idea, but I thought he might have a little bit of excitement thinking about a family dinner. But now he just seemed angry and strangely aggressive toward me. Not in a way that made me afraid or uncomfortable. In all honesty, it was just pissing me off.

  “Look, I don’t want to talk about it,” Colt said.

  “Really?” I asked. “That’s it? You just think you get to decide when the conversation ends?”

  “I don’t want to talk about this, Leah.”

  “Again, you think that you’re the one who gets to decide when the conversation ends? It doesn’t matter what anybody else thinks?”

  “Just like you got to decide that we were going to go back to my family’s ranch and have dinner with them?” he asked, a note of acid in his voice.

  “This is absurd,” I said. Turning in my seat, I stared through the windshield in front of me.

  I completely clammed up and ignored Colt the rest of the drive. This was completely ridiculous. I couldn’t believe he was genuinely acting this way.

  “I told you,” I said as we neared the campgrounds. “It was an invitation. I thought it sounded nice and honestly believed you would be excited about having family dinner with your brothers and their families.”

  “Well, I guess you should have run it by me before you answered,” Colt said. “Actually, they should never have asked you at all. If it has something to do with our family and our traditions, Cassidy should be asking me.”

  That was enough for me. I didn’t need to keep up with this conversation. Fortunately, the drive was almost over. I could handle sitting there in stony silence beside him for a few more minutes. Even with the short section of the drive, I still felt like I was going to tip over the edge by the time we got back to the carnival. Colt kept sighing and shaking his head. I didn’t know if he was trying to get a rise out of me or was just so angry and wrapped up in himself it was an impulse.

  Either way, it was making me angry.

  When we got back to the rodeo grounds, I was out of my seatbelt and out of the truck before the engine was completely silent. Not even bothering to look over my shoulder to see what Colt was doing, I stormed across the open space to my trailer.

  Before Colt could even consider following me, I slammed the door shut and locked it. I had absolutely no intention of opening the door again that evening. Colt could sleep in his truck if he was going to be a jerk.

  Chapter 29

  Colt

  I damn near just left.

  There wasn’t much tying me to the rodeo itself other than my word, and if I went over to Macy’s trailer and told her it wasn’t working out and I had to go, no one would stop me.

  The other competitors would likely be ecstatic. They would jump up and down in victory to know they had run me off, even if they had nothing to do with it. Leah would have them nipping at her heels to be the shoulder she cried on too.

  But even as angry as she was at me and as miffed as I was at her, the pull of Leah was too strong to just up and leave. As much as I wanted to go, I wanted just as much and more to stay close to her. It was the damndest thing, but I was frankly too tired to argue with myself or do a deep dive in my psyche to figure out what it all meant.

  I had only brought some of my stuff inside the trailer, opting not to fill it up since it wasn’t mine and we had never really established just how serious we were. That meant there was still enough camping stuff in the truck that I could either make a tent to sleep in outside or I could sleep in the truck. Judging by the bitter cold that still hung around Montana springs late into the season’s nights and early mornings, I opted for the comfort of the truck.

  Plus, if people saw me shacking up in the tent, they’d know something went down with me and Leah. With me in the truck, it was conceivable no one would know, unless they overheard her slamming her door at me. Which was entirely possible.

  I made myself as comfortable as possible on the floor of the truck behind the driver’s seat. A sleeping bag and pillow were still inside and I thanked the heavens for small favors. I was still angry, but the subject of the anger was beginning to turn from her to myself.

  It was all the way there when I woke up the next morning.

  Smacking my lips and grumbling about leaving my toothbrush inside the trailer, I washed my mouth out with the little bit of mouthwash I had in a travel bottle in the glove compartment. Exiting the truck, I stretched and tried to think of what exactly I would say. I figured it was late enough that Leah would be up, getting ready for her day, but when I knocked on the trailer, it was still empty. Slipping inside with the key she gave me, I brushed my teeth properly and changed clothes.

  My ribs were sore as all hell from sleeping in the truck, but I tried to force myself to move normally when I put on the new shirt anyway. If I got used to the pain at this point, it would be easier to recover than babying it. Still, it hurt like a bastard and I grumbled a few curse words under my breath as I tossed my cowboy hat on the top of my head and headed out toward the rodeo grounds.

  I felt like a complete ass. The argument was stupid, but not from her point. It was all me that was being dumb. I was overly sensitive and dismissive and rude about my family and the problems we had. I caused most of the problems she was talking about and yet I felt the need to act like a jackass when called on it. She was doing what she could to meet and get to know my family, to see where this relationship could take us, and I rejected her like she meant nothing.

  Which couldn’t be further from the truth. As far as I was concerned that morning, Leah didn’t mean nothing. She meant just about everything. I was falling for the girl, and I had to get with the program. I could be mad and frustrated and cranky, but not at her. She didn’t deserve it, and she certainly didn’t do anything that should cause it.

  As I made my way toward the rodeo, I could hear a voice talking that sounded like Macy, just around a corner. I froze when I heard the voice responding to it. It was Leah. And she was talking about me.

  “I just need a little time,” she said.

  “That’s completely reasonable,” Macy said.

  Not wanting to eavesdrop, I turned on my heel and went back the way I came. The last thing I needed to do at that moment was interrupt. She was in the process of getting comfort from a friend, and I didn’t want to be the kind of guy to pull her away from that.

  She needed time to process things, clearly, and I knew I needed to give her that space. Macy was a dear friend of hers, and in the time I had gotten to know her, she had also been a good friend to me too. I knew she would give Leah the comfort she needed but wouldn’t push her to make any moves either for or against me.

  Stuffing my hands into my pockets, I made it away from the rodeo far enough that I didn’t think Leah could hear or see me anymore, and slowed my pace. It was turning out to be a pretty decent morning and the sun was heating up a little. Not enough that I would be rolling up my sleeves anytime soon but maybe enough that I could shed the jean jacket when I got back to the trailer.

  I decided I would move a few of my things out of the trailer but not everything. Just enough that if Leah needed a day or two more, I could comfortably live in the truck without an issue. Having my toothbrush and a couple changes of clothes would suffice, and I could leave the rest there so she knew I wasn’t “moving out” per s
e, but just getting what I needed. I would give her the time she required, and in the meantime, I would hang out in my truck and try not to sleep whatever way I had the night before.

  Speaking of the truck, when I got back to the trailer, I heard someone outside near it. Figuring it was just some of the workers dipping behind trailers for a smoke, I went in and grabbed my things. But when I opened the door to come out, I heard the voices again. This time, they were accompanied by a terrible metal-on-metal sound.

  I set my things on the tiny metal step leading into the trailer and went around it to where my truck was parked. As soon as I rounded the side of the trailer, several people scattered and those that were left were instantly recognizable. Jacob Walton, Will Brentwood, Dale Asbury, and a guy I knew as Moby were standing by the door of my truck. Each man had a key in their hands and were in the process of etching crude drawings on the side panel.

  My vision turned red with rage. That son of a bitch tried to kill me and now he was keying my truck. He not only had such little respect for me as a man but as a human being at all. He thought so little of me that he would kick me while I was down and destroy my property when he thought I couldn’t or wouldn’t do anything about it. Boy, was he wrong about that.

  I dove into them, ribs be damned. One fist crunched into Jacob’s jaw and he went down like a sack of potatoes. Dale was coming up behind me, and I sensed him, rearing back my elbow hard and catching him on his already broken nose. He cried out in agony and slumped over, blood spurting between his fingers as they covered his face.

  Moby was next and he tackled me into the door of the truck. I smashed into the mirror with the back of my head and felt it shatter. The metal bent, but it was designed to do that, so it gave way quickly enough that my head slammed into the glass of the window hard. Moby didn’t waste any time before laying fists into my rib, targeting my weak spot like a hyena. Grunts of effort punctuated each punch and the only thing keeping me from tumbling over was uncontrollable anger.

  I dug my thumb into his eye and yanked. Years of fighting with the Hayes brothers taught me that having honor in a fight where you were outnumbered only resulted in getting hurt worse and them bragging about it anyway. When Moby grabbed at his face, it gave me a split second to go on offense and I kicked him swiftly between the legs. Immediately, he crumpled and I slammed my fist into his chin to guide him down.

  Before I could catch my breath, Will was on me. He was a huge bear of a man, and he wrapped me up in a bearhug and tossed me. I landed hard on the gravel and rolled to my stomach. The pain in my ribs was starting to break through the fog of anger, but I was determined. So far, I figured Moby was out of the fight for a bit and Jacob hadn’t moved from where I laid him out. He was knocked out, meaning I really only had Will and Dale to contend with, and Dale was on his knees, trying to put his nose back together.

  I got to my feet and Will cracked his knuckles. A smile spread across his ugly face and I knew, right then, that if it meant breaking every bone in my body, I was going to wipe that grin away. I charged, bellowing as I did, and hit him hard in the stomach with a spearing tackle. It was enough to take him off his feet and we wrestled on the ground until I got the upper hand. Frantically, I smashed my forehead into his face several times and his body started to go limp under my grip. A few more elbow smashes later and he was out cold.

  Standing, trying to catch my breath again, something exploded over my back and I stumbled forward. I hit the ground and scrambled to my knees. Dale was standing, broken shards of what looked like a wooden chair in his hands. He tossed most of them away, keeping one jagged stake and charged after me. Blood streamed from his nose and stained his cheeks, and his eyes were wide and wild. He aimed to kill me like a redneck Van Helsing hunting cowboy Dracula.

  I dodged just in time for him to miss me with a swing of the wooden spike and I wrapped him up from behind, hooking both hands around his waist and into each other. Snapping my hips forward and lifting straight up, I took him into the air. I threw him backward, landing hard on the ground myself. Dale landed on his neck and head, and when he crumpled to the ground, I could tell he was dazed.

  I got to my feet and exhaled. Will was unconscious by the back tire of the truck, Jacob by the hood. Moby was clutching his jewels and looking spacey as he leaned against the driver’s door. Dale was just getting to his knees. I spit a stream of blood and stalked up to him. Rearing back, I let loose a kick to his chest that sent him to his back in the dirt. I fell to my ass with the impact and slowly got back to my knees.

  Spitting a stream of blood in the dirt, I looked up to see Leah, racing around the truck. Her expression was horrified as she looked at the damage around her and I stood, clutching my ribs.

  Chapter 30

  Leah

  Seeing the last moments of the fight raging in front of me as I ran toward all the chaos and noise was scary, but it was the aftermath of all that anger that was truly frightening. In those first seconds, it was all about the adrenaline. I was trying to process what I was seeing and what was happening. Then, I needed to react. It was an instinctual, impulsive rush.

  But once it was completely over and only Colt was still on his feet, the reality of it all sank in. This wasn’t just a skirmish or a quick tussle. This was a full-on brawl, and Colt had left the other men as bruised heaps on the ground.

  Two of them were groaning, obviously injured. The third wasn’t moving and his breath was slightly short and shallow. I recognized the look on his face. It was one any person who spent time around large animals and saw riders tossed onto the ground witnessed. He had a concussion. Another lay in a heap of groaning mess against the door of the truck, holding his crotch and sounding not unlike a wounded deer.

  This was serious. Cassy ran over with her medic bag and skidded to a stop just feet away from the men. Colt looked at me without saying anything and took the few steps over to us. He pressed his hand to his ribs and I could only imagine how much they hurt now. The pain was still lingering from the initial injury. Now after the fight, they must have been so much more painful.

  It was possible he could have sustained a much more serious injury now. I knew from experience that bruised ribs could quickly turn into cracked ribs if you didn’t take care of them well. A few well-placed punches would certainly do the trick, and while it looked like Colt had gotten the better of these three, who knew how many shots they got in before ending up where they were.

  Colt dropped down onto the ground beside the three injured men, and Cassy shot him a dirty look. He didn’t make any comment. There was really no need to. It wasn’t like he was going to try to deny what he did. And there was nothing he could say that would justify it or make his actions acceptable. He was just going to sit there and hope the medic could do something for him to make him less miserable.

  Though, by the look on his face, he was already pretty deep in misery.

  It only took a few seconds of evaluation for the medic to stand up, shaking her head. “We need to call an ambulance.”

  I quickly covered the steps to get close enough to her to talk without shouting. “Ambulance?” I asked. “Is it really that bad?

  “Yes,” she said. “For two of them. Colt really did a number on them. Their injuries are serious, and they need to get treated immediately. I can handle Dale’s nose and this one over here just needs an ice pack for his… area.”

  “What about Colt?” I asked.

  “He might have laid all four of them out, but he didn’t come out of that fight unscathed. They banged him up pretty good, too. But it’s just those ribs. There’s nothing I can do about them, and there’s nothing a hospital can do about them, either. Even if they are cracked, all an emergency-room doctor would do is wrap them up tight and give him some pain meds. I have a feeling he would rather wrap himself up. He’s not exactly looking like he wants to deal with anybody else. And frankly, I don’t think they want to deal with him, either.”

  Though I had a feeling she would rather j
ust leave him to suffer, Cassy had given Colt an ice pack for his ribs. He was sitting hunched over with it pressed to one place but would move it every couple of seconds like he couldn’t figure out which place was more painful or where he wanted to soothe more.

  Fortunately, the nature of a rodeo meant the organizers ensured a rescue team was close by all the time. Serious injuries weren’t uncommon, and especially when we were in places like this where the carnival was set up a good distance from the hospital itself, it was important to have a team ready to respond.

  The sirens wailed just a couple of seconds later and then I saw the lights flashing. Two ambulances zipped into sight and stopped nearby. I watched as a team of uniformed EMS poured out of the back of each and rushed over with stretchers. They consulted with the medic quickly to find out exactly what was going on, ran vitals on each of the men, then loaded them up.

  Within a matter of moments, the back doors of both ambulances slammed closed and they sped away. I knew neither of the men had life-threatening injuries, but they were still serious enough to warrant being seen. I couldn’t believe Colt had lost control like that.

  He managed to get himself to his feet, and I stormed over to him.

  “What the hell just happened, Colt?” I asked angrily.

  “It was a fight,” he said.

  “Don’t try to get cute with me,” I said. “How could you do something like that? Did you see those men? Do you realize two of them are going to the hospital right now?”

  “Did you not see what they did?” he asked. “I came over here and the same jackass who just shot off the BB gun and made the horse crush me was out here with his buddies keying my truck.”

  He said it as if it was a justification, as if that would appease my fury and make me feel completely like what he did was fine. It didn’t do anything even close to that. I shook my head hard.