Running Wild(A Second Shot Novella)(10)
One more night. He wanted to enjoy it—right or wrong. Because he wasn’t going to come home the same. He knew it. And it scared the hell out of him.
He scanned the crowd. Dominic was holding court, his legs dangling over the back of his dad’s truck and his arm around Lily. He couldn’t find Ryan. But he’d spotted him earlier, heading to the house with Helena. They’d been on a mission to raid his dad’s liquor cabinet. Knowing his father wouldn’t mind, Noah had given them the go-ahead.
One more night. And he wanted Josie Fairmore—the only person in Forever who’d asked, Are you scared?
He spotted her, standing off to the side of the keg with a red plastic cup in her hand. Her white sundress glowed in the firelight, hugging her curves and offering a stellar view of her legs. She wore her dark hair long and loose around her shoulders. And a pair of brown leather cowboy boots on her feet.
Noah was by her side before he realized he’d been walking, dodging backslaps from old friends. Sure, he’d smiled at them, but he’d wanted to get to Josie.
“Your dad would probably ground you for the rest of the year if he saw you sipping on that.” He nodded to the cup poised at her lips.
She lowered her drink. “Trying to save me from my dad now?”
“No.”
Tonight I want to land you in trouble. The kind that will piss off your dad and your brother. But it doesn’t have a damn thing to do with drinking.
“Well, it’s water. I haven’t touched the beer tonight.” She lifted her free hand and ran her index finger around the rim of her cup. “And I’m leaving for college in a few weeks. I doubt my father will bother driving up to Portland to ground me.”
“Would you listen if he did?”
“Probably not.”
“So . . .” Shit, he was acting like he’d never spoken to a woman before. And this was Josie.
Because it was Josie, he had to ask. “Has Travis left you alone?”
She nodded and her smiled faded. “He hasn’t called, texted, or emailed. And I don’t miss him.”
“Glad you’re not heartbroken.” Because I’m dying to take you into the barn and watch you ride that damn bull in your little, white dress.
“Not even close. I’m more upset about the fact that you’re leaving tomorrow. Not just you, I mean. Dominic too.”
She turned her gaze to the grass at her feet. It was green, which was unusual for this time of year. The fact that they’d had some rain and were still free and clear from forest fire danger had allowed them to build the bonfire.
“Nice boots,” he said, ready to slam the door on words like “Travis” and “leaving.”
She lifted her chin. And the look in her green eyes? It spelled mischief. “You mentioned something about riding . . .”
“The bull.” He nodded to the barn. “It’s in there. Follow me.” And make my fantasy come true.
He was one beer into the night, so he knew it wasn’t alcohol driving him. He wanted Josie. On the bull, on the cushions surrounding the machine—it didn’t matter as long as she was in his arms.
“Sure there won’t be a line?” she asked, walking at his side through the darkness to the mostly empty pole barn that at one time, when his grandfather was alive, had housed cows, goats, and even a llama.
He shook his head. “I locked it up for the night. I didn’t want a bunch of drunken idiots taking rides and getting hurt. Plus, my dad would be pissed if someone broke it.”
“You’ll start it off slow so I won’t get hurt?” she asked, her voice low.
“Yeah,” he said, withdrawing the key from his jeans and slipping it into the locked side door. But he wasn’t sure they were talking about the bull anymore.
He led the way inside and flipped the light switch. The fluorescent strips overhead illuminated a dusty dirt floor. His grandfather had talked about pouring concrete one day, but they’d never had the money. A collection of boxes and old furniture stood at the far end. The black bull stood in the center of a padded section that filled one corner of the barn. At one point in time, the pads had been red, white, and blue, but they’d faded, losing their all-American look.
“It has horns.” Josie moved past him and stepped up onto a firm greyish-white cushion. “And a face.”
“That’s real cowhide,” he said, keeping his boots planted in the dirt. If he joined her up there, he’d reach for her. And he wanted to see her ride first. His dick was hard at the thought. Having a hard-on around Josie should have sent him running toward a cold shower. But not tonight.
One more night. . .