Can't Resist a Cowboy (7 page)

“Just friends, Levi.”

“You’ve thought about more.” He wanted to touch her, use his hands and his lips to convince her that they could definitely have more. “You have, haven’t you?”

“Of course I have. I loved you once!” Her voice broke. “But I have my future to think about and I don’t see this ending well for us.”

She was scared. He’d never downplay that. Hell, he was scared, too. Mostly about making the wrong choices when it came to her…moving too fast, moving too slow. Not weighing the options. Putting her in harm’s way. Letting her go without a fight.

Spotting his jacket on a chair, he walked over to retrieve it. For now, he’d back off, give her space. But he wasn’t done trying to pull this thing between them together.

“Just friends?” He put his coat on, amazed at how fluid his legs felt. She gave a short nod, less than convincing, but he’d let it go. They walked back into the kitchen and crossed to the door.

“Levi?” The screen shut, separating them. “Friends don’t kiss. Not like that.”

He pushed the door open and crossed the threshold, giving her a wink as he looked back. “No more kissing?”

“I mean it.”

The scent of citrus and flowers wafted off his coat from when she’d been wearing it this morning. Shoving his hands in his pockets, Levi descended the steps. “We’ll see, Carrie Lynn. We’ll see.”

Chapter Eleven

Wiping sweat from her forehead on the crook of her arm, Carrie was grateful for the breeze blowing in through the open barn doors. It was balmy today, a rare warm spell in a month that usually brought chilly air and rain. She’d sent her dad off to Colorado with a hug and a stock trailer full of prime cattle, in the hue of early morning that promised to be a beautiful day.

When she was a teenager, he’d been reluctant to leave her overnight alone in case her blood sugar plummeted. Several times, he’d found her unconscious on the floor. There wasn’t an ambulance in Greenbrook, so he’d give her a shot her doctor had prescribed for emergencies to get her blood sugar up, and drive her forty-five minutes to the closest hospital. Sometimes, it was a cycle of rinse and repeat.

Other times, like now, her sugars would be great and she’d go months without a hypoglycemic episode. It was going on a year now since she’d had a debilitating low. She wasn’t worried about her dad being gone, or about being mostly alone while he was. The ranch hands were around, some of them living on-site in the bunkhouse. And the Haywoods would be stopping by. Despite being rain-soaked and cold yesterday, she felt fine.

If she had to name a problem, it would be Levi.

He’d always had to slip the last word into any argument. Typical man, all, “We’ll see, Carrie Lynn. We’ll see.” No, they would not see. Steadying herself on the ladder, Carrie pulled thick leather gloves from her back pocket and put them on. She’d noticed four broken windows in the horse barn the other day, the two-foot wide rectangular ones that topped each stall. Before they could be changed, the remaining shards of glass needed to be broken out.

She’d already taken care of two windows, finding deep satisfaction each time she tapped the glass pieces and watched them fall outside, landing onto the tarps she’d laid on the ground to catch the debris.

Too bad she couldn’t turn her problems into glass and destroy each one. Bad vision?
Crash
. Boredom with life in general?
Crack
. Unresolved feelings for Levi that got worse each time he kissed her? Smash, shatter, destroy.

She tapped a large piece out of the window frame with her hammer, wishing she could obliterate it. She had to be careful that each chunk fell onto the tarp, so Hulk-smashing was out of the question, sadly. The next piece was smaller and she hit it with enough force to crack it in two before it fell.

“Huh,” she muttered, peeking carefully through the frame to be sure the glass landed on the tarp. “That felt good.”

“Trying to turn it back into sand?”

Carrie wobbled on the ladder, recognizing the voice with a groan.

“Something like that.” She didn’t bother to look at him. He’d be dead sexy and she didn’t need that right now. Yesterday had thrown her into Levi overload and she was still buzzing inside.

“Why don’t you come on down?”

She rolled her eyes. He probably had both gloved hands on his lean hips, one leg cocked in that way he had to let everyone know he was the shit. And if she didn’t obey him, he’d look at the ground and tell her again, waiting for her to listen on her own accord before he had to press the issue. Oh, Levi, she thought. He’d always been stubborn and bossy and hot as sin.

“I’m good.”

A pause. She had to look, just to see. Sure enough, his hands were on his hips.

“Carrie, come down.”

“Don’t you have something to do?” God, she was so tired of people telling her what she could and couldn’t do. Always making decisions for her instead of with her, even now, when she was a grown woman. Even in Wyoming, her aunts were constantly fussing as if she were a fragile little thing. She hadn’t told anyone about her vision for a reason. Being henpecked and waited on hand and foot didn’t sound that appealing.

She tapped at tiny chunks of glass around the frame, scooping them into her gloved palm and letting them drop. A deep, frustrated sigh below her…she counted to three…and the ladder trembled as if he’d gripped it.

“Get down. You’re going to get hurt.”

“I’ll take my chances.”

She heard shuffling from the ground, and she figured he was going to come up, and what, pull her down? “Before you go all caveman on me, Levi, I have a question.” She paused with the hammer in midair, realizing what she was about to ask him. Her pulse ticked up. Was she really going to go there? The truth would come spilling out, and he’d know.

He’d know.

“Yeah?”

“How’d you do it?” She made a half turn, hanging on to the ladder sides to look down at him. Beautiful, just as she’d suspected, with his black hair glinting in the light, his broad shoulders covered in blue-and-white flannel. “When you were lying in the hospital, and you knew your body was changed and wouldn’t be the same…how did you get better?”

His hands relaxed their grip. A long pause worried her that he wasn’t going to answer, but then he shrugged. “Some days, I’m still not better, Carrie.” Tapping a finger to his head, he took a step back. “That day that changed my body? One of my best friends was killed and I carry that up here, locked away. I knew I could be stubborn enough to walk again. But my mind? That was the biggest obstacle. I didn’t know how to handle the depression that followed.”

He’d been through so much, more than anyone would ever know, really. Looking at him now, strong and healthy, she was awed that he’d made it through when so many in a similar situation might not. If anyone could help her acclimate to losing her sight, it was him.

“When you realized, that first time, that your legs were damaged—” She stopped herself, not really sure how to phrase her question. “When you knew, without a doubt, that you were physically altered, how did you come to accept it?”

His face softened. “Carrie.” His voice was soft and tender. “What’s this about?”

She turned back to the window, though there wasn’t any more glass to smash. A part of her wanted to brush the matter off and forget it. But now that he’d opened up a little, she was hungry for more, to know him and that huge part of his life that she’d missed. Maybe she wanted him to know her, too.

“Come down here and talk to me.”

Maintaining some distance gave her confidence that she could go through with this conversation. If he touched her, she might break down completely. “I’m not done up here.”

Another sigh and then the sound of rustling hay. He’d grabbed a rake and was cleaning bedding on the stall floor. “Truthfully, after the doctors let me out of the medical coma, I didn’t care if I lived or died.”

Carrie clenched her eyes at the hint of pain in his tone.

“I’d look down and see what was left of my legs and rage inside. I was pissed that I’d be that way the rest of my life. I came home to Paint River and watched my brothers and my new sisters-in-law go about their lives—working, riding, driving—and I realized…”

His voice trailed away, along with the sound of the rake. The back of her neck tingling, Carrie set down the hammer on the window frame. “Realized what?”

“That Paint River’s dirt had my sweat and blood in it. My feet had walked that land since I first learned how, and damn it, I wanted to walk it again.” Rake tines scraped the rubber floor. “I figured, changed or not, it was either live and be alive, or be alive but not live. So here I am, hundreds of physical therapy hours and lots of fear later, alive and living.”

Staring out the open window, she tracked the sway of a tree across the yard as his words hit her heart. She hadn’t done very much living since getting the news that her sight was changing.

“First thing you’ve got to do, though, is have a raging fit about it.”

“What?”

“A fit. You know, scream, yell, and smash things…like windows.” He set the rake aside and took a purposeful step to the ladder. In a blink, he was climbing up behind her, face determined, sultry eyes locked on hers. Unable to drum up a protest, she gripped the sides tighter as the ladder trembled with his climb. Two rungs below her, his body heat spread over the backs of her legs. He slid a hand up her right hip to the curve of her waist, his fingers giving a light tug on her shirt.

“Talk to me. Come down.” He urged her to come down one step and she complied, little quakes rumbling through her at his proximity. “One more.” Her body pressed against his as she descended one more rung, his arms bracing on either side of her. The brush of his shirt against her back lit goose bumps along her arms. She turned as much as she could, desperate to see what was in his eyes.

His face was so close to hers…just close enough that if she leaned down a tiny bit, she could…

“You said no more kissing.”

With a sharp intake of breath, Carrie realized her lips were nearly touching his. She was being a total hypocrite, but she couldn’t make herself move away. “I did say that.”

“Did you mean it?”

Thankfully the rung was too narrow for her to turn or face him. Otherwise she’d do so and press against him, encourage his hands to slide up her sides. “I want to mean it.”

Levi grinned and she did, too, leaning in a little more because she really didn’t know if she meant it or not. Another little taste, just to see…

“Uncle Levi!”

Levi pulled back abruptly, his grip on either side of her keeping Carrie from startling right off the ladder. Cole’s daughter, Birdie, waved as she bounced down the aisle, Sophie Haywood behind her. A slow expression of amusement and suspicion crossed Sophie’s face as she stopped outside the stall.

“We tried the house, but no one answered, so figured we’d try in here.”

Birdie gripped her aunt’s hand and peered up at them with big, shy eyes. Clearing his throat, Levi climbed down and held the ladder as she did the same.

“So, Carrie,” Sophie said with a side-eye look at Levi. “Rylan and I got free spa day passes thanks to Levi here impressing one of the candidates.” She nudged him with her elbow. “Remember the one who smeared you in chocolate? Yeah, her. She says hello, by the way.”

He gave Sophie an impatient look before walking away, pausing to ruffle Birdie’s hair.

“We’ll finish this conversation later, Carrie.” He disappeared, leaving her to bear Sophie’s knowing grin alone.

“Anyway, do you want to come with?”

“Yes. When?” A spa day with women she hoped to know better? Heck, yeah.

Sophie put an arm around her shoulders. “Now.”

Chapter Twelve

A week ago, his life had been pretty uncomplicated. Get up, work, eat, go to bed, repeat. Since Carrie had shown up, his days had become riddled with constant wondering. Something was off with her. He’d sensed it when they got caught in the storm, but he’d brushed it off. She rubbed her eyes a lot and seemed more interested in slipping into deep thought than talking. They’d spent years apart; he didn’t know her like he once had. Maybe that’s all it was. He expected her to be the same chatty, vivacious Carrie he’d left behind.

Her questions in the barn this morning nailed his concern. This was more than a personality change brought on by time and maturity. Something was up with her, and it left an ominous feeling in his gut.

Instead of focusing on making plans for Agate Falls, as he should be doing, he was wrapped up in mulling over conversations he needed to have, and a bunch of nagging questions that he needed to ask. All these loose ends frustrated him and it was time to tie everything up before he lost his mind.

Finishing up at Agate Falls, he went into Greenbrook to the hardware store, and then drove home to Paint River with the radio cranked, trying to get Carrie out of his head. That didn’t last too long when he pulled up to the ranch house to find her truck parked out front.

Sweaty, hungry, and wondering what she was up to, Levi walked into the house and paused.

His brothers and Jaxon were kicked back at the kitchen table, Cole with one boot braced on the side of the table as he saluted Levi with a beer bottle. That no-good, cut-the-tail-off-the-dog grin he wore meant trouble.

“Hey there, little brother. ’Bout time you showed up.”

“What’s up, boys?” Levi ran a hand over his face, not liking Tucker’s self-satisfied smirk.

Cole pulled out a chair beside him and gave it a hearty pat. “Have a seat. I hope you have your marine corps panties on.”

Levi begrudgingly sat. Tucker flicked the toothpick in his mouth and pulled a bottle of whiskey from behind his back and set it on the table. “Seems our wives have taken Carrie Lynn to Missoula to enjoy an all-expenses-paid trip to the day spa.”

Sophie had mentioned that this morning. Seemed the women didn’t waste any time taking up the offer for free pampering.

Cole slid a quart-sized mason jar next to the whiskey. “They dropped Birdie off with Aunt Penny until tomorrow, and Ma and Jim are at Glacier National so we’re going to settle up the Haywood way.”

Levi eyed the mason jar like it contained live snakes. Actually, snakes would be better.

He groaned. “Oh, hell no.” The clear liquid inside the jar revealed neatly stacked green jalapeños, red tabasco peppers, whole garlic cloves, and yellow habanero peppers, surrounded by brown dill heads.

“We saved a jar of Ma’s ball burners just for you, buddy.” Cole cracked the ring on the jar, popped the sealed top. “You know the routine.” A shot glass appeared in front of him. Levi leaned back in the chair and spread his knees wide, a hand on his middle. His ma made the “ball burners” to use for the chili-eating contest at the Greenbrook Fair every year. To date, no one had been able to finish an entire bowl, and she had more ribbons than a duck did feathers.

And goddammit, this game was no joke. He’d been twenty the first time they’d played, and it had been three in the afternoon the next day before any of them could peel themselves off the basement floor.

“I coughed up blood for two days the last time we did this,” he groaned. A quarter slid across the table and came to rest beside Levi’s shot glass.

“You take any fancy pain pills today?” Cole asked.

“Hell no.” Levi grimaced as a waft of garlic and vinegar hit his nose.

“Well, I’d say your chance of dying is reduced by a couple percentage points then.”

“What are we settling up about?”

Tucker pulled the toothpick from his mouth and cracked open the whiskey. “We have too much work and not enough of us, so we’re drinking for it. Loser gets to handle the charity in California that wants to put a therapeutic riding center here.”

Levi scoffed. “Look, I’ve been meaning to tell you guys but we didn’t have the time to sit down like this. I bought in on Agate Falls.” Silence fell. He looked to each man and spread his hands wide. “I’ve got my hands full, but—”

“You’re shittin’ me.” Cole sat forward in his chair. “When did this happen?”

“Three weeks or so.”

Cole tapped his empty shot glass on the table, and Tucker filled it up, made his way around until everyone’s glass was full. “Cheers, Levi.”

Levi lifted his glass high as they did the same and then tossed back the liquor. The whiskey streaked fire down his throat. He stifled a cough. It was only the beginning and he was already regretting it. He swallowed hard.

“I’m still here for you guys.” He’d put this conversation off partly because he’d been afraid his brothers would be resentful of the lack of time he’d now have for Paint River things. Instead, they looked slightly impressed, and way more interested in refilling their shot glasses than continuing this conversation.

“Good, then you get the therapy center project.” Tucker leaned across the table and refilled Levi’s glass.

“Hell no. You said we’re drinking for it, so we’re drinking for it.”

Tucker scooted his chair slightly sideways and rested an arm on the table. “Quarter.”

Levi leaned forward. “I hate to break it to you assholes, but you’ll be the only ones eating those peppers if we play straight quarters. There wasn’t much else to do to pass the nights in Afghanistan. I’ve got this in the bag.” Levi picked up the coin and bounced it off the table and straight into the shot glass. It swirled twice before clunking to the bottom. Tucker shot to his feet with challenge on his face.

“Oh yeah, show-off?” He disappeared into the kitchen, came back with an armful of glasses. He set a tall glass in the middle and arranged five smaller glasses around it. When he was done, each cup contained a shot of whiskey, and either a garlic clove or a slice of pepper. The middle had a double shot and a fat jalapeño slice. Levi laughed and shook his head as Tucker slid him the quarter.

“Doesn’t matter how many times you score, you’re still drinking or eating something. Oh, and if you miss, you take a bite of the Mother.” Tucker stabbed a fork into the middle of the jar, withdrawing the meanest-looking habanero Levi had ever seen.

“Speaking of mother,” Cole said before he drained his glass. “She asked that you personally take on the project. So just do it.”

Levi folded his hands over his stomach. “Nice try.”

Cole set his glass down with flair, indicating that Jaxon should fill it up. “You’re not going to let her down, are you?”

Levi sucked in a breath through his nose and smirked at Cole. If his ma had wanted him to take on the project, she’d have come right out and asked. He sensed a deeper reason for this impromptu let’s-get-sloshed party, like maybe the fact that the four of them had spent little time together that didn’t involve work. Cole had a new baby coming. Tucker had a new wife and Jaxon worked sunup to sundown, barely showing the whites of his eyes until well after dark.

So fine, he’d sit here and drink with them, and humor them in the process. Raising his glass, he gave a nod. “Here’s to not letting Ma down.”

The better part of three hours passed and Levi couldn’t figure out what the hell happened to his chair. The damn thing wouldn’t stop swaying.

“Goddammit.” Levi’s lips and tongue were puffy as if they’d been inflated and smashed onto his face. He put his fingers there, surprised they didn’t feel bigger when he touched them. The Mother sat next to the empty whiskey bottle, still impaled with a fork and remarkably smaller in size. His gut rumbled and clenched, reminding him where the pieces of Mother had gone. The table looked slightly crooked, like a leg had buckled and pitched the top sideways. Levi blinked, cocked his head.

“Sit up. You can’t…drink like that.” Something nudged him hard in the biceps. Levi’s head snapped up, and he realized he’d been resting his head on the table. The slide of a quarter and the cool feel of metal against his fingertips. Levi looked from Cole to Tucker and Jaxon. They were swirling, making it impossible to focus. He ran a hand over his eyes, confused for a moment.

The table used to be full of more men, crowded so tightly around that you couldn’t discern one face from the other. White T-shirts, tan desert camo pants, dog tags shining in the overhead light. Clinking, laughing, talking—the drone would get so loud that you couldn’t make out a single word. Cards flipping, cans crushing in animated hands, fists pounding on the plastic tabletop so hard the whole thing shook.

Lights would flicker, and the faces would become encased in shadows. Silence would fall if the lights stayed off too long, the soldiers listening for the sirens…for the call. But then a white fluorescent glow would burst through the room, and the voices and cards picked up where they left off. Once, the lights didn’t go back on, and the ground shook like a sinkhole was going to rip open and swallow them down. The next thing he knew, he was following Carlos out into the night…driving…thinking about Carrie and if he’d ever see her again.

Levi looked around, his palms on the table to keep his ass steady in the chair. Jaxon made a face at him, grounding him in the present. Even then, he’d been thinking about Carrie. Shit.

“Damn boy, you look sick. Is The Mother making little pepper babies in your belly?” Jaxon snorted. Tucker slapped the table as they laughed. “Man, it’s good to have you home, Levi. I missed picking on you.”

Levi’s fingers dug into his sweaty palms, making tight fists, the movement helping him focus on not falling backward.

“Remember that time you made Levi eat the—”

“We aren’t here to act like women.” Levi looked up. His head was swimming, spinning, making it hard for him to hold it up. “Keep your sappy estrogen-talk to yourself.”

Tucker tried to scratch his forehead and knocked his hat off. “You dumbass. If we…if we were going to girl-talk, we’d be talking about Carrie.” He produced a full bottle from under the table and cracked the top, refilled everyone’s glass. Levi put his forearms on the table to hold himself up.

“What about her?”

Tucker took his shot and followed it with a loud shout before he slammed the glass down. “You’re hard for her, man. We all know why you
really
grabbed Agate Falls.”

He flipped Tucker the finger. “Shut up, Tuck.”

His middle brother didn’t know when to quit, never had, especially when the booze ran freely. “She still loves you.” The words came out in a sloppy singsong that sounded a lot like a taunt. What the hell was this, high school? Levi gave a disgusted shake of his head. She didn’t love him, far from it.
I loved you once.

“No, she doesn’t.”

Cole gave him an exaggerated pat on the knee. “Don’t worry, man.
We
love you.”

“Speak for yourself.” Tucker hiccuped around a grin.

“Shut up, Tuck.” The slurred amusement in Cole’s voice pulled Levi from the empty pit his brain seemed to be in. He snickered and rubbed his blurry eyes with one hand. Mostly quiet this entire time, Jaxon leaned across the table, startling Levi a little with the sound of his voice. “When’re you gonna tell her that you want her to stay?”

When did these three idiots become relationship experts? They hadn’t even been in the same place long enough for any of them to get a good read on what was going on with him and Carrie. Unless…he was really that obvious.

“I don’t love Carrie.” Whoa, did that feel wrong spouting out between his crazy puffy-feeling lips.

Both brothers laughed. “Right.” Tucker kicked back his chair, slouched down and stretched out his long legs. “Sooner you admit it…sooner you can get that girl in bed.”

Levi grabbed Cole’s shot glass and downed the whiskey with a sudden thought of naked Carrie. Sleek, smooth, long-legged, naked Carrie. He’d already had her in bed, a long time ago. Calling his name as he made her come. And then he’d walked away. He couldn’t ask her to go with him, not when it meant taking her away from the security of her family, and not after the promise he’d made Darren.

“Wrong. I think she hates me a little.”

Tucker snorted. “You stupid son of a—”

Levi grabbed the edge of the table to keep from falling off the top of the world. This. Damn. Chair. “Your wife let you…talk like that?” That was it, he was falling. He tipped, his fingers losing their grip.

“She don’t…
let
me do…anything.” Tucker wagged a hand at him—maybe it was just a finger—no way to tell because his eyes were closing.

Levi made a last-ditch attempt to stay upright. He glanced past Tucker. Damn, it looked like Sophie standing there…and Rylan. And then a head of curly blond hair peeked in between the two women.

Oh shit, there’s Carrie Lynn
. And he went for the floor.