Road to Love (Triple R Book 4) Page 4
I put on my best innocent face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
As I opened the door, Rahl yelled, “Greenstein! Fix my phone. Now!” and Jake jumped from his cubicle.
Back at my desk, I picked up my cell phone.
Ollie: How are you feeling?
Sage: Better. I was just tired.
You needed to be less tired and more relaxed. Rainbows and fucking butterflies.
Ollie: I’ll come over early Friday to help with prep for the party.
Sage: You don’t have to do that. Presley and Willow are coming over in the afternoon.
Ollie: Then I’ll hang out with three of my favorite girls.
Sage: I’m still not sleeping with you Ollie ;-)
I laughed.
Ollie: I think I’m off of women for a while. Been having some issues.
Sage: The Playboy of the Year is having problems with women and/or men?
Ollie: I think it’s one man that got away.
Sage: Sometimes people aren’t meant to be together.
I shook my head at the text. There’s that fear.
Ollie: See you tomorrow.
Sage: Tomorrow.
Chapter Five
Holt
When Kanyon and Willow were out here they gave me the names of their friends, car salespeople Drexel and Presley. I called the dealership and since Presley was out of the office on a test drive, I talked to Drexel and set up an appointment to buy a new truck.
My truck had chugged to its death outside of Omaha. I’d had it towed to the closest scrap yard and got all of three hundred bucks for it. Actually, it was a miracle the twenty-five-year-old, 350,000 mile odometer truck made it as far as it did. I’d paid my hard-working brother, and father of five, much more than the hunk of junk was worth to take it off his hands. He needed the money more than I did because number six was on the way.
Six kids. Imagining getting three at once like Sage and Rahl, I couldn’t even think straight. Well, technically, that happens all the time.
I had four options for getting to the dealership, which appeared to be about five miles away. Walk—that could happen, if I was so inclined, but I wasn’t. Massive combine—that wasn’t going to happen on the small city streets but would be amusing. Grain truck—the machine had seen its fair share of good and bad days and I was thinking it needed an engine overhaul this winter.
Or horse.
I saddled up the one that looked the friendliest. A gray mare I called Silver, but I imagined to the Whitemans or Dave she had a different name. Before saddling her up, I checked her hooves for rocks. And just like a car I would drive, I examined her overall condition. She was well taken care of. Dave must have rode her on a regular basis, and the filly seemed to be excited about the idea of getting out of the pasture. Too excited. Silver altered quickly from a trot to a gallop. The motion reminded me of the coin-operated plastic horse ride outside of the Winn Dixie back in Montgomery when I was a young boy. Adults would take bets on how long kids would stay seated in the saddle before being bucked to the ground. Best five cents they’d ever spent for a chuckle or two.
I reined Silver back to a slow trot. She still jerked forward like she wanted to show off. I told her she’d get her chance someday. Her response was a noise of recognition as she pranced down the dirt road.
Using a route that took us on back roads and through green spaces and parks, we quickly made our way across town. Some of the gazes were as if people had never seen an equine or a cowboy in the city. Maybe they haven’t.
One spunky blonde woman rolled down her car window and asked for a picture. I chuckled but agreed. The tiny woman dashed around her car to take a picture with me and Silver in the background, then stopped to give love to the horse and throw me a cute smile and a couple of bats of eyelashes. There were other whistles and comments along the way. I wasn’t sure the flattery was for the cowboy on the horse or the gorgeous horse. Never could be too sure.
I guided my ride into a spot near the dealership door and Silver proceeded to do what horses do.
Shit.
Literally.
“Silver, now that wasn’t ladylike.” I wrapped her reins around a bike rack that was cemented into the ground outside the front doors.
A blond man with blue eyes a shade darker than the Marine of my dreams stepped out of the front door. His crooked smile confessed a cocky personality I appreciated. His sculpted physique, with long lean muscles, made my neglected libido pipe up and my Wranglers suddenly became a size too small.
“We don’t get many real horses around here,” he said. “I usually only have to talk about horsepower, so I’ve got nothing.” I chuckled as he reached out his hand. “Hi, I’m Drexel Mason, I think you’re probably Holt Jamison.”
“Guilty, Mr. Mason.”
“It’s Drexel.”
“And Mr. Jamison is my father. Holt, please.”
We shook hands. I lingered to enjoy his warm palm against mine. He didn’t seem to mind and my brain wandered a little into the realm of possible relationships if Oliver wasn’t available or interested. Considering that potential made me a little nauseous, but I needed to be realistic. Even with his temper and mistakes, Oliver was a catch. Any man or woman would’ve been crazy not to snatch him up, and if one had, I’d need to be ready to move on.
He clasped my shoulder and the touch was a little friendly for a heterosexual man, but everyone had different comfort zones. Or maybe this was his salesman way of dropping a person’s defenses.
Working on me.
It’d been over a year since I’d been with a man. My long-ignored cock had a mind of its own. I consciously stemmed any natural bodily reactions.
“Anyone who’s a friend of Kanyon and Willow is a friend of mine.” He dropped his hand and gave Silver a couple of long strokes down her nose. “I had a few trucks moved up to the front. Will he—” Drexel glanced under her and Silver stomped the concrete to warn him. “Sorry.” He held up his hands and backed away.
I rubbed her slender neck. “There now, Silver, I don’t think Mr. Drexel was tryin’ to make any moves. She’s a little excited to be out and about.”
“She. Will she be okay here?”
“Yeah. I take it you’re not a horse person?”
“I wouldn’t know. Never been around one before.”
“Be glad to give you a lesson or two.”
“You have a farm around here?”
I made sure Silver’s reins were double-knotted. “I’m taking care of Sage Whiteman’s grandparents’ farm.”
“Rahl’s girlfriend, Sage?”
“Yeah.”
“Damn, those eyes.”
I nudged my hat back so I could look into Drexel’s eyes. “Rahl’s aren’t too bad either.”
Drexel paused and seemed to be searching his mind. “I’ve never really looked. I try to stay out of Rahl’s way. I think he has a bad side, and once you’re on it, I’m not sure there’s a way to work your way off.” He nodded to his right. “Enough about Rahl, let’s go find you a new truck.”
“Now, not ‘new’, Drexel. I’m not one of those fancy Nebraska cowboys.”
He walked backward and his thigh muscles flexed against his form-fitting trousers. “I picked out the best used in your price range. Promise, all of these fit your needs and wants list.”
“That’s a tall order to fill, but I bet if anyone can do it, you can.”
Drexel smiled and his teeth shined like the first white truck. “I do what I can to please my customers.”
Now that was flirting. Not my imagination. Well, maybe it is. Been so long, I can’t even tell. Shit.
“I hope so.”
Drexel had picked out three excellent choices, but it didn’t take me long to make a final decision on a used heavy-duty Ford F-250 in a color that Silver the horse would appreciate.
I waited outside with Silver for Drexel to get back with the final negotiated price when my phone buzzed.
“He
llo, Holt Jamison speaking.”
“Hey, Holt, Rahl Vendetti.”
“Hello, sir. How are you and Sage doin’ today?”
“I’m fine. She’s doing better. Thank you for asking. She’s going to stay home for the rest of the week on doctor’s orders.”
“That’s good to hear. I’ll send up a prayer for those babies tonight.”
“Appreciate that, Holt, and I’ll let Sage know. How are you and the farm?”
“All is good, thanks for askin’. What can I do for you, sir?”
“We’re having a small gathering to celebrate a friend’s birthday on Friday night. Sage and I want you there.”
“That’s nice of you, but I wouldn’t feel right imposing on your party.”
“I wasn’t asking, soldier.”
My back straightened as the tone of his voice instigated my trained responses. “Well, then I’m not declinin’, sir.”
Rahl chuckled. “That’s better. Any time after eighteen hundred for cocktails. Dinner is at nineteen hundred hours.”
“I’ll be there. Mind if I bring a new friend?”
“We don’t mind at all.”
“I think you know him. Drexel?”
“Mason?” A deep chuckle rumbled through the phone, but Rahl collected himself. “How do you know Drex?”
“Kanyon Hills referred me to Jessen Auto to buy a truck and Drexel’s my salesperson.”
“Sure, bring him along. Should have thought of inviting him anyway.”
“Great. I’ll see you on Friday then, sir.”
“Holt, time to stop calling me ‘sir’. It’s Rahl.”
“Understood, si—I mean, Rahl.”
“Good. Friday.”
“Friday.”
Drexel met me in the doorway. “They accepted your offer. If you want to come inside, we’ll get financing set up.”
“Sounds good. I think Silver’s gettin’ a little thirsty.”
A black-haired woman appeared behind Drexel, her emerald eyes peeking around him. “Is that your gorgeous horse?”
“Yes, ma’am.” I ticked the brim of my hat. “Cowboys need all kinds of horses, metal-engine version and the equine version.”
She held out her hand. “I’m Presley Bradenhurst. I used to help a friend out on her parents’ farm. I have some experience with horses. I’d be glad to take care of her.”
“I’d be grateful, Miss Bradenhurst. This is Silver, but I wouldn’t suggest riding her. She’s a little excited to be out in the world today.”
“Please, call me Presley.”
I introduced myself and explained my connections.
Presley smiled at me, then glared at Drexel. “And Willow told you to call Drexel?”
“Hey!” Drexel reared back. “I’m damn good at what I do.”
I adjusted my hat. “It was actually Kanyon who offered up both your names. Just turned out, Miss Presley, you were out on a test drive when I called in this mornin’.”
“Oh, well, that makes more sense.” Her shoulders relaxed.
“Little competition between you two?” I motioned between them.
“We seem to trade back and forth top salesperson for the month,” Drexel answered.
“Good to hear I was referred to the best.”
“I’ll take care of, um, what’s her name again?” Presley asked.
“I call her Silver.”
“I’ll take care of Silver until you’re done, then I can follow Drexel and we’ll bring your truck to wherever Silver came from.”
“That would be really appreciated.”
We finished up the purchase, and I gave directions for the two of them to meet me out at the farm in an hour. Silver and I started on our way back but didn’t run into any cowboy or horse paparazzi again.
Back at the farm, I let Silver out into the pasture and she sprinted around like a filly, sharing the adventure she’d had with the three other horses. I laughed at how she got all of them riled up and had them sprinting around the five acres of freedom with her.
My truck pulled up and Presley hopped out. Drexel pulled in next to her in his own horse.
“I see you have a powerful and spirited horse as well.” I examined the car as Drexel stepped out.
“Never thought of it like that. I guess I have a little cowboy in me, too.”
He rubbed the roof as if it were an animal he was spoiling. “I’ve had a Ford Mustang since I was seventeen, can’t seem to find another car that fits me.”
“Well, that’s a nice one. Great color, too.” My silver truck and his gunmetal-gray Mustang looked like a fine couple sitting next to each other.
“I agree.”
“Drexel, would you like to go to Sage and Rahl’s with me on Friday night for Jude’s birthday party?” I asked him.
Presley joined us. “I was going to ask both of you to come, Holt.”
“Rahl beat you to it.”
“Glad to hear you’ll be there. Please, Drex.” She grabbed his arm and draped it over her shoulder.
“For Miss Perfect, anything.” He pulled her in closer and kissed the top of her head.
“Don’t call me that in front of Jude. You know he hates it.”
Watching their interaction, Presley and Drexel had a very sibling kind of relationship that made me miss my family.
“I’d be glad to pick you up, Drexel,” I offered.
“Designated driver? Score! I’ll text you my address. Thanks, Holt.”
“My pleasure. Well, I’ve got chores and a couple of small fields that still need to be harvested.”
I shook Drexel’s hand, then Presley pulled me into a warm hug. I drew her closer, missing the human touch that everyone craved in life.
“Thank you, Miss Presley. That hug was about the nicest thing I’ve experienced since I’ve been in Omaha.”
Drexel stepped up and dragged me into a bro hug. “I’m not going to be outdone by a Miss Perfect hug.”
I chuckled and let his earthy and musky cologne with a hint of the lavender that Mama grew in her garden fill my head with fresh memories of friendship.
“I’d have to admit, I think Drexel’s hug was better,” I said after he backed away.
Presley rolled her huge emerald eyes and Drexel stuck out his tongue at her.
Presley climbed into the passenger side and Drexel slid inside, rolling down the driver’s window of his car.
“Friday, Holt.”
“Friday, Drexel. See you later, Presley.”
Life in Omaha was looking up. Now to look up Oliver.
Chapter Six
Oliver
I cycled harder and faster than I ever had at Run-Ride-Rock Gym’s five a.m. Thursday cycling class. The girl next to me had tried to start a conversation before class, but I wasn’t in the mood to be my normal flirty and cocky self. That disturbing personality change was making me push myself harder in hopes I could exercise myself back to being, well, myself. My legs were fatiguing fast, but I didn’t care. I would keep going to sweat out the dreams that filled my subconscious mind last night. Maybe exhaustion will stop them.
The forty-five minute high-intensity class ended and she stepped off her bike, glowing with sweat. Not a bad look on her.
“Hi.”
“Hey.” I tugged my water bottle from the floor to take a long drink.
Her azure eyes fluttered as she wiped off with a towel. “I’ve seen you in here before and you’re always intense on the bike, but damn, you were going for a world record today. Everything okay?”
“Had a lot on my mind to work off.”
“I’d be glad to get together and hear about what’s on your mind. I’m a really good listener.”
I was rarely the subtle type, so I looked her up and down. She had the body type I usually went for. Generous around the hips, decent chest, and girl-next-door face was honest with that something special. Every girl and guy had at least one special body feature. Hers was her mouth, full and fully fuckable. She was young, definitely
younger than my twenty-three years, but she seemed to have her shit together. I’d seen her reading textbooks on an e-reader while using the elliptical and making it to spin class almost every day that I was there and driving off from Triple R in a tricked-out pickup truck.
My natural instinct was to go for it, but those damn dreams still filled corners of my brain.
Shut up, brain.
I pushed through the haze and followed the predisposition that flowed like oxygen in my blood. “Hey, I’m going to a birthday party tomorrow night at a friend’s house. Want to come along? Then maybe after, we can share horror stories of our lives?”
“I prefer fairy tales, but I can do scary movies once in a while. I’ll have to check my calendar.” She turned and bent over, and the view was enjoyable.
I cleared my throat. “I’m sorry, it’s a limited time offer.”
She pulled her phone from her bag. Turning around with a cute smirk and rolling her eyes, she glanced at her screen. “I’m open tomorrow night, Mr. Limited Time Offer. How was that for timely?”
I wiped a grin and sweat off my face with a gym towel. “Perfect. My real name is Oliver Aston.”
“I kind of still like ‘Limited Time Offer’, but I guess I can use your real name.” She shook my hand. “Nice to meet you, Oliver. I’m Aurora Jessen. My friends call me Rory.”
“As in Jessen Auto Mall?”
“Yeah, that’s my dad’s business.” She picked up her bag.
“I know a couple of the salespeople there.”
We talked as we left the room and she did know my friends, Presley and Drexel. I got her address and we traded phone numbers.
“Hope your Tour de France efforts in there were successful and you have a lot less on your mind, Oliver.”
“Thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow around six.”
A familiar face behind the front desk waved me over. Jude Saylor, the birthday-boy-to-be, was a personal trainer and all around good guy. His best quality was his sincerity and his best feature was his tight and high ass.
“Hey, Jude.”
He stood and walked out to the gym floor, clapping his hand on my shoulder and giving a friendly squeeze. “Oliver, what’s new?”