Read Online Cowboy Alpha Billionaire Bad Boy: F#cking Jerk 1 by Tawny Taylor - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Tawny Taylor
Ads: Link
day was much less drama-filled than the morning. Sure, everything didn’t go perfectly. We were dealing with animals, after all. There was always some kind of chaos going on. Though Rocket was on his best behavior for once. It was as if he sensed I was upset and didn’t want to make things worse.
Aunt Sandee had always told me horses were tuned into people’s feelings. I never believed her. To me they were big, stubborn, and a little scary. Today, Rocket helped me see another side of his personality. This side I actually liked.
Unlike Elvis, the ever-crowing rooster. Elvis was up to no good all day long. And by the time the sun was hanging low over the western horizon, I was ready to throw him on a pot and cook him for dinner.
The hard work helped distract me. That was the best part of it all. I didn’t sit around thinking about Clay, about the child that might be his…or might not. The fact that he was so predictable when it came to women. And that he hadn’t even tried to deny that he’d treated me pretty much the same way he’d treated every other girl he’d slept with in his truck.
Since the summer he’d broken my heart, I’d believed he was a total tool. An asshole that broke women’s hearts for kicks and felt absolutely no remorse. I’d spent a little time with him since then, and now I wanted to believe he wasn’t all bad. I wanted to believe he possessed some redeeming qualities. But maybe that was just hopeful thinking. And maybe I was an absolute fool for believing a word he said.
I knew, as the day wound down and the workers left, that he would come looking for me, wanting to talk.
I wasn’t ready.
I needed time to think.
Outside the barn, I glanced around, looking for him. I didn’t find him, which was a good thing. Maybe he wanted to give me time to digest everything I’d learned this morning. Then again, maybe he was repairing the broken fence in the far pasture. Whatever. Didn’t matter. I was going inside, having some dinner alone, and losing myself in a book.
I waved a goodbye to one of the boys and stomped up to the porch, yanking off my nasty boots before going inside in my stockinged feet. My stomach rumbled but I headed to the bathroom first. Shower. Then food. I smelled like shit. Literally.
Roughly twenty minutes later, I excited the bathroom smelling a lot better and wearing nothing but a bath towel. Water dripped from my wet hair as I hurried to my bedroom to get dressed.
I’d just stepped into my panties when I heard the first round of knocks on the front door.
I’d gotten them to my hips when the second series thumped through the house.
I sighed then yanked on a sweatshirt and jumped into a pair of jeans.
The third series of knocks started just as I was making my way through the living room, toward the front door. I opened it.
It was Clay.
Holding a bunch of wildflowers (weeds).
A round of nonstop sneezes kicked in, and I blurted, “Allergic,” while stabbing my index finger at the cause.
Reacting quickly, Clay turned around and tossed them out the open door. “Sorry. I didn’t know.”
Standing in the door, I blinked watery eyes and tried to smile. “It’s okay. How would you, right? I’ve been downing antihistimines all week. It’s the thought that counts.”
“So does that mean you’ll let me in? I’d like to talk.” He gave me one of his trademark smiles.
I hesitated, waffling back and forth between letting him in and not. If I let him in, I couldn’t trust myself to just talk. The chemistry between us was way too strong.
One thing would probably lead to another. And I didn’t need to have sex with him again. That would only make this whole situation that much more confusing.
If I didn’t let him in, things would be awkward between us for a while. But it would give me time to figure out whether Clay Walker was the fucking jerk I’d thought or not.
Aunt Sandee had always told me horses were tuned into people’s feelings. I never believed her. To me they were big, stubborn, and a little scary. Today, Rocket helped me see another side of his personality. This side I actually liked.
Unlike Elvis, the ever-crowing rooster. Elvis was up to no good all day long. And by the time the sun was hanging low over the western horizon, I was ready to throw him on a pot and cook him for dinner.
The hard work helped distract me. That was the best part of it all. I didn’t sit around thinking about Clay, about the child that might be his…or might not. The fact that he was so predictable when it came to women. And that he hadn’t even tried to deny that he’d treated me pretty much the same way he’d treated every other girl he’d slept with in his truck.
Since the summer he’d broken my heart, I’d believed he was a total tool. An asshole that broke women’s hearts for kicks and felt absolutely no remorse. I’d spent a little time with him since then, and now I wanted to believe he wasn’t all bad. I wanted to believe he possessed some redeeming qualities. But maybe that was just hopeful thinking. And maybe I was an absolute fool for believing a word he said.
I knew, as the day wound down and the workers left, that he would come looking for me, wanting to talk.
I wasn’t ready.
I needed time to think.
Outside the barn, I glanced around, looking for him. I didn’t find him, which was a good thing. Maybe he wanted to give me time to digest everything I’d learned this morning. Then again, maybe he was repairing the broken fence in the far pasture. Whatever. Didn’t matter. I was going inside, having some dinner alone, and losing myself in a book.
I waved a goodbye to one of the boys and stomped up to the porch, yanking off my nasty boots before going inside in my stockinged feet. My stomach rumbled but I headed to the bathroom first. Shower. Then food. I smelled like shit. Literally.
Roughly twenty minutes later, I excited the bathroom smelling a lot better and wearing nothing but a bath towel. Water dripped from my wet hair as I hurried to my bedroom to get dressed.
I’d just stepped into my panties when I heard the first round of knocks on the front door.
I’d gotten them to my hips when the second series thumped through the house.
I sighed then yanked on a sweatshirt and jumped into a pair of jeans.
The third series of knocks started just as I was making my way through the living room, toward the front door. I opened it.
It was Clay.
Holding a bunch of wildflowers (weeds).
A round of nonstop sneezes kicked in, and I blurted, “Allergic,” while stabbing my index finger at the cause.
Reacting quickly, Clay turned around and tossed them out the open door. “Sorry. I didn’t know.”
Standing in the door, I blinked watery eyes and tried to smile. “It’s okay. How would you, right? I’ve been downing antihistimines all week. It’s the thought that counts.”
“So does that mean you’ll let me in? I’d like to talk.” He gave me one of his trademark smiles.
I hesitated, waffling back and forth between letting him in and not. If I let him in, I couldn’t trust myself to just talk. The chemistry between us was way too strong.
One thing would probably lead to another. And I didn’t need to have sex with him again. That would only make this whole situation that much more confusing.
If I didn’t let him in, things would be awkward between us for a while. But it would give me time to figure out whether Clay Walker was the fucking jerk I’d thought or not.
Similar Books
