Rodeo Christmas at Evergreen Ranch (Gold Valley #13)(49)

She was so...so angry. So helpless feeling, and she hated it. She was sick of being stuck in the middle of no-win situations.

Couldn’t be as good as her brothers because she wasn’t a boy. Was never going to live up to her sister because she was the wrong kind of girl.

Got a necklace, traded it for a knife. Broke her mother’s heart when she was just trying to please herself.

Couldn’t kiss Jake. Couldn’t stop thinking about kissing Jake.

And why couldn’t she kiss him? Because he said so?

It was always because someone else said so.

And no one listened to her when she said what she wanted. “You’re the one that made me feel these things,” she said. “Man-up and do something about them.”

“It’s a bad idea.”

And that was just it. She lost it. She was so tired of everyone telling her what she wanted, everyone telling her what she should do.

“Fine. I don’t need you. I just need another cowboy for the night.”

“Hell, no,” he said. “We agreed none of that.”

“Were not really married, Jake, as you well know. And if you won’t give me what I want, I’ll find someone who will. I can get myself a buckle bull if I damn well feel like it. And I aim to do just that.”

She walked right out of there, without getting dressed up, without anything. Because she was going to show him.

There was an old work truck sitting there in the driveway with the keys on the seat, and she gave thanks for the ample vehicles on the property and lax security.

Then she started to drive toward the main street of Lone Rock.

It was a Wild West town. Nothing quite as quaint and civilized as Gold Valley. The old wood buildings were painted bright red, mustard yellow and emerald green. White pillars and balconies added a nice contrast to the color.

And among all that, the Thirsty Mule stood out. It was all brick with a white sign that had a hazy-looking mule on it. He had his tongue hanging out and a bottle of whiskey beside him.

Without even thinking about it, she parked right in front of the bar.

She knew that Jake was pissed, but she didn’t care. She didn’t care about anything. She was desperate to prove that it wasn’t just him. It couldn’t just be him. Because he was denying her, and it was just kissing. So would probably be the same with any guy. She was pent up in all that. Since she’d never had a chance to let herself go like this before.

She got out of the truck, her stomach fluttering slightly as she put her hand on the door, then pushed it open. The place was packed full.

The lighting was dim, strips of neon running along the ceiling and signs proudly proclaiming different brands of booze lit up on the walls. There was a pool table and a dimly lit dance floor where people were less...dancing, more swaying and groping.

Cowboys and cowgirls drinking, dancing. She was not going to dance. Anyway, the dance floor was packed, and she couldn’t see well enough into it to get a bead on whether or not there was anybody she wanted to dance with.

She hung back by the door for a few minutes, looking around. And then she spotted a particularly tall, well-built cowboy by the bar. He was closer to her age than Jake, she guessed, which was good. He wouldn’t have that paternal vibe. That overprotective crap that Jake tried to pull on her. So she walked up to the bar.

“Hey,” she said. “Can I buy you a drink?”

He arched a brow. “I could buy you one.”

“That works, too,” she said. “Works nice, in fact.” She stuck her hand out. “My name’s Cal. Uh, Callie.”

“Dan,” the guy said, grinning. “Come here often, Callie?”

“I think you know I don’t,” she said. “Unless you don’t come here all that often.”

“Matter of fact, I do. So yeah, you’re right. I know you don’t.”

“That’s all right,” she said, looking at him critically. “I don’t need you to be smooth.”

He chuckled. And she felt like she was winning at a game she didn’t know the rules for somehow. And she was thrilled about it.

“What do you need me to be?” he asked.

She tried to think of something that a woman with experience might say. Or at least what Lara might say, the shiny, bold barrel racer who spoke her mind and never seemed to regret it.

“Easy,” she said.

That earned her another chuckle.

“I am that,” he said.

Thank God.

Although when the drinks did get set down on the bar, she realized that she had basically propositioned the man for sex. And she didn’t feel a whole lot of anything but angry. She certainly didn’t have that crackle under the skin that she felt when she looked at Jake. Didn’t have that twisting sensation, that about-to-ride excitement. She lifted the beer to her lips, and tried to look...seductive or something. She genuinely didn’t know how. Then she realized that she just needed to quit playing games.

So she took a step toward him, and she felt herself resist. She didn’t want to kiss him. She stared at him, studying the planes and angles of his face. He was handsome. More than handsome. He was hot actually. A good-looking guy close to her age, and there was no reason she shouldn’t want to... Put her lips on his.

She’d kissed Jake, and it felt good. Kissing felt good.