Grump’s City Girl (Boots and Heels #2)

5. Cassie

Chapter 5

Cassie

I mmunity.

Beau and I had an exception from this new challenge because of how well we’d ridden before. I had not expected this. What more were these producers going to drop on us without notice?

“Well, we’d better make ourselves comfortable,” I nudged him towards a couple of benches under a spreading oak.

We sat, and I took care not to lean into his side like I wanted to; he looked so sexy. A tight black T-shirt hugged his massive shoulders, biceps, and rock-solid abs hiding under the fabric; his worn jeans clung in all the right places, right down to his boots. There was something about his chiseled jaw and dark blue eyes.

Nelly was patting a horse's neck while Quentin mopped his head, literally sweating bullets.

“Ten bucks says he’s gonna topple off the saddle right into a pile of horseshit,” Beau snorted, leaning into the bench and stretching a long leg out.

He rolled his shoulders before crossing his arms and then tilted his Stetson up to watch. “These city boys are only good for filing taxes and pairing fancy wine with steak, but nothing else.”

I giggled. “Hey, stop being an asshole. Knowing wine is an important part of being a functional adult.”

He rolled his eyes. “Just hand me over an ice-cold beer. I ain’t got time for fancy.”

“Ready?” Liliana called. “Those who will equip the riders, you have four minutes to get the saddle on and the riders ready. Riders, you need to keep your team atop the horse, and whoever grabs one of the two flags at the end of the paddock wins. The two last pairs will be on the chopping block for the challenges later this week.

“Note that if your team is in the bottom two and you manage to ace another challenge, you would be able to escape the chopping block, but if your team is consistently in the bottom, you will be sent home,” Liliana ordered. “And believe me, the challenges get harder from here, much more scandalous, too. Understood?”

A few said yes, while the rest nodded, and Liliana called for them to take their places. My eyes latched onto Sissy, wobbling around on the grass in six-inch stilettos. I wondered if they would even fit into a stirrup.

“Jonas looks grim.” Beau nodded. “He knows he’s fucked.”

“I agree.” I angled my head to two others. “I think Ryker and Danielle are in the same boat. Those two are only good for sharing glares. He’s a sexist pig.”

“And she might be a highbrow chick,” Beau shrugged. “Maybe they’re perfect for each other.”

A whistle sounded, and Nelly, Amy, Micah, Jonas, Rome, and Danielle sprinted off to the stables, where I was sure cameras were already set up to capture their frantic moments.

Fifteen seconds later, Nelly and Jonas were rushing back to their horses, where they got the saddles on, chattering to Quentin and Sissy, giving them tips on how to stay on the horses and not spook them.

Micah and the other three stumbled out, all rushing to their horses while bleak-faced Nelly had the saddle on and then had Quentin up into it with a hoist and a push to his backside. “Remember what I told you, now go!”

He ran off, his loafer-shod feet slipping a little in the stirrups, but he held on to the reins with Sissy behind him. She rode like a pro, even with those red bottoms arching high, bottom bouncing. I would bet a thousand dollars that a camera was zooming in on that.

Greer, Emory’s partner, and Alice, Rome’s partner, were struggling, uneasy in the saddle and yanking hard on the reins at the worst times. Ryker sped past them and was closing in on Quentin and Sissy. The red flag at the end of the row would force these guys to extend their bodies to grab or barrel race around it.

“Someone is going to fall,” Beau murmured, leaning in, pinning his eyes on the racers. “They don’t know how to turn like that.”

And sure enough, Greer, even before getting to the flag, careened to the side and sent her horse staggering. Quentin slowed while Ryker was speeding up, and Alice trailed in the back.

Sissy got to the pole and snatched the top flag, making my jaw drop in shock—and Jonas collapsed to the ground, his face white as chalk. She even managed to circle the post with a wide berth, and Ryker barreled in, reaching for the flag but missing by inches. Then, Quentin snatched it, making Nelly jump with a loud whoop.

When the six managed to return to the starting point, Jonas clambered to his feet and went to get Sissy down, a wide smile on her face while she danced with the flag. Nelly flung herself onto Quentin and gave him a tight hug. The man looked overly pleased to have her in his arms, and for a second, I wondered if there was something there.

“I’ll be damned,” Beau said, rubbing his stubbled jaw. “Little miss made it through, even with those skyscraper heels.”

“Those aren’t skyscrapers,” I said with a wry head shake. “Try ten-inch hooker heels. But yeah, I’m shocked, too.”

Ryker’s face was mottled red with fury. He jabbed a finger at Quentin. “That fucking flag is mine, and you know it, Poindexter!”

“Oh, for fuck's sake.” Nelly stepped in between them, arms crossed, glaring. “You missed it by an inch, and he grabbed it fair and square. It’s not his fault you have butter-fingers, cupcake. Suck it up.”

He made for her, but Danielle grabbed at him and yelled, “Stop it, Ryker. They won. Let it go!”

He shrugged Danielle off and stormed away, leaving the rest of them to face the two hosts; Ariana’s head swerved, looking confused, while Sutton gave a liberal sigh. He reached out a hand to stop Ariana from going after him and said, “Give him time to cool off. He’s got seventeen thousand acres to do so.”

Turning back to us, Ariana smiled. “Well, I guess we all know who is safe this week. Sissy and Jonas, Quentin and Nelly… you two are at the top, and you’ll join Beau and Cassie. Rome and Alice, you two are safe, but as for those in the bottom, Emory and Greer, Micah and Amy, Ryker and Danielle, you’re all on the chopping block for now.

“If you manage to beat the other challenges, you’ll be okay, but for now, I suggest you strategize about your strengths and weaknesses and who will do what when the other challenges come about. And with that done,” Sutton added, “Lunch is served.”

“I think you might be right about Quentin.” Nelly was still riding high on that win as we sat on one of the many tables scattered on the wraparound porch, food in hand. “He seems to be a decent guy.”

“He’s not hard on the eyes, either,” I replied. “But you know what they say about silent rivers running deep.”

Her left brow arched. “You think he’s a freak in bed?”

I choked on lettuce. “H-how did you jump to that?”

Nelly shrugged and reached for her sub. “I wouldn’t mind, to be honest. He’d be a winner at everything—money, life, sex—” she leaned in and gave me a sneaky look. “Spill the tea. When you and Mr. Grump over there used to knock boots, how was it?”

Fuck.

This is something Beau and I had not talked about. I tried to play it cool, “It was… hot but not over the top with stuff. No freaky things like whips and chains or handcuffs. He did tie my hands to the headboard with his T-shirt a couple of times, though.”

She went in for the kill. “How big is he?”

I threw a crouton at her. “I am not answering that.”

Nelly grinned. “I’m taking that to mean he’s above average.”

“My lips are sealed,” I said and added at her pout, “Forever sealed. I don’t kiss and tell. Anyway, to the more important stuff, I didn’t think Sissy would win such a challenge, though. I suppose I should know better than to make assumptions.”

“Maybe she’s been riding for a long time, just not horses.” Nelly laughed, wiggling her brows. “Good for her, though. I was surprised, too.”

Pushing around the fries on her plate, Nelly asked, “Do you have an idea what they’ll ask us to do next? Set ourselves on fire, swim a mud pit, fight an ostrich?”

“This is Wyoming,” I laughed. “I doubt they have native big birds up here.”

“You’d be surprised,” Beau’s lazy drawl skittered over the back of my neck, raising goosebumps in its wake.

He swung his long legs over the bench and sat, plopping his hat on the table, and leaned forward, bracing his forearms inches from his worn Stetson. He ruffled his hair, and I spotted, in his inner arm, the edge of a tattoo—was it a pair of boots? “These producers are like polecats… you never know what trick they gonna pull on you.”

“Just like I’d imagine the contestants,” I replied. “If Sissy is any indication, people have got skills under their sleeves.”

Smirking, Nelly said, “I suddenly remember something I’ve got to do.” She stood and took her plate with her.

“Gon’ to find a horse, eh?” Beau asked.

“And look in his mouth, too,” Nelly waved over her shoulder. “Keep it clean, kids, don’t do what I wouldn’t do.”

Cocking his head, Beau watched her go. “Once upon a time, I would have liked to be with a girl like her.”

“Once upon a time…” I echoed. “I’d assume you still would like a girl like that. She knows country life. Girls like me don’t. We know fancy wine pairings.”

He eyed me. “Something tells me you know more than that.”

Will he ask me who I am or where I come from? He already knows I have money, but will he do it, if or when, he knows how much I have?

“Before yesterday, when you stumbled into my little hell, you were not the only one who was bamboozled by these guys,” he said while staring into the distance. “I should have read the fine print, too, because after they fixed the place up, they dropped a pile of photos on my table and told me to choose one to be my partner. I was like, what the hell are you talking about?

“They said it was a courtesy to add the owners of the location they are renting into the show to make more publicity for that location,” he shrugged. “Now the whole world is going to see my ugly mug.”

A laugh spluttered from me. “What? Ugly where? Have you seen yourself?”

He cocked his head to me, that ever-present sexy night beard on his jaw, while his lips quirked. “You don’t have to save my feelings, sugar.”

My fingers found his jaw and skittered over his cheekbones. “Lies and slander. Do you want me to take you to the city, slap a suit on you, and take you to my country club? The socialites there will trip off their heels to climb you like a tree.”

“Me, with my burnt skin?—”

“Tanned like the gods.”

“—scruffy cheeks?—”

“Manly scuff.”

“—and wild rough hair?—”

“A lion’s mane.”

“—would be a temptation to a rich girl?” he asked incredulously.

“Well, you got me, didn’t you?” I replied, and his eyes flicked to my lips.

My breath puffed from my lips. He was close enough for his scent to tickle my nostrils, a virile mix of spice and clean male. Heat bloomed inside me, and I knew that if I had been standing, my knees would have gone missing.

Without thinking, I increased pressure on the stubble under my fingers and traced my fingers up his cheekbones, and when I thought he would pull away, he leaned into me.

Was he going to kiss me?

“There’s a camera poking out behind the door ten feet behind you,” he whispered. “Don’t look.”

I gently pulled away from him. “I thought you’d have touched up that tattoo. It’s a bit faded, isn’t it?”

He pulled the sleeve up and showed me a pair of boots and a lasso around it. “This old thing? No, it’s gonna stay faded. I told you, back when I got it, I was a na?ve, cocky little shit of a twenty-three-year-old, high on the idea of getting a ranch from my grandpa.

"Oh, how I wish I could go back and smack that boy into common sense.”

I snickered. “I love it when you tell me about your younger self. I think I would like him.”

“I wouldn’t,” Beau snorted.

“Is the camera gone?” I whispered.

“Yeah,” he said lowly. “These goddamn cameras are everywhere. Sometimes, I feel like I’m going to get off the toilet, and one of them is in the bottom of the damn bowl.”

I lost it.

The laughter burst from me in loud peals of laughter, and I curled into his side, trying—and failing—to control it. Beau had a dry sense of humor I’d rarely come across, but it was starting to grow on me.

“Nelly was asking me about our supposed love life,” I told him. “What kind of lover you were. I didn’t know what to tell her.”

His brows lifted. “Tell her we made love until morning light; that should keep her quiet—and a bit jealous.”

“But what if the producers ask for stuff like that?” I asked. “Intimate things like… I don't know, birthmarks on your body, sensitive areas? Stuff you like in the bedroom, stuff you don’t like.”

Beau wrinkled his nose, “Anything but those freak whips and chains shit.”

My lips twitched. “I agree with you.”

“You?” He slated a look at me.

I felt the tips of my ears redden. “I… don’t like missionary. It feels too… personal.”

He cocked his head. “ Too personal? You’re sharing your body with the other person. How much more personal can it be?”

I threw a crouton at him. “You know what I mean. It’s the staring-into-eyes thing, especially when you’re most vulnerable. I think such a thing is for the person you love or have feelings for, but not for a hookup.”

“Ah,” he nodded. “It’s a damn shame a girl like you only gets hookups. You look like one of the few gals with a good head on their shoulders, modest but sexy too.”

If only you knew how fucked up being rich was, especially the kind of money my family has. You never knew who was there for you or your money.

My thoughts dropped to Vigo, and I held back a grimace—but not quick enough for Beau’s keen eyes. He sighed, “You mean to tell me the guys you’ve been with are all dickheads?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” I replied. “Well, the last one was.”

We broke into silence before he asked, “When is your birthday?”

I cringed even more, “February 14.”

He burst out laughing, propping a hand on the table and gripping his gut. “So, I guess your douche boyfriends gave you birthday gifts and Valentine's gifts in one, right?”

“Right.” I rolled my eyes. “Inconsiderate asses. What’s yours?”

“May 20,” he replied. “My dad used to tell me I was a Taurus, stubborn like the bulls around here. He is right, I am.”

“I have a tattoo, too,” I admitted. “It’s a bird feather on my ankle, and I got it pretty young too. My father went apeshit when he saw I’d gotten it at sixteen.”

Looking inquisitive, he asked, “I get the boots and lasso on my arm, but why a feather?”

“Hermes,” I said. “The Greek deity has winged sandals that carry him between worlds, one of the gods and the humans. For a couple of my teen years, I wanted to escape the oppressive world I was living in. Believe it or not, the upper crust has more problems than you think.”

“Like what?” He snorted. “Where to park your yacht?”

More like your whole reputation being destroyed if a stack of nude pictures of you makes it onto the internet. Everybody likes to see rich people fall from their pedestals.

“More like you don’t know who to trust,” I braced my hands on the edge of the bench and kicked at the sanded wood under my heel. I lifted my head. “You live a life of paranoia and mistrust until one day, it becomes your life. Money is as much of a burden as poverty. Wanderlust is as much of a curse as being trapped.”

He trapped my chin between a rough forefinger and thumb, forcing me to look at him. His eyes were steady and dark, an unfathomable ocean of blue. “I never thought about it that way. You are different from the rich snobs in country clubs and on Capitol Hill, aren’t you?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “But one day, I may be.”

On a hunch, I told him a lot, any and everything I could think of: my favorite color, that time I tried to befriend a chicken on my eccentric aunt’s farm in Colorado, my favorite book, The Scarlet Letter, my most humiliating experience, getting spat on by a camel at the zoo when I was eight.

I told him about my philanthropist mother and workaholic dad. Beau returned the favor, but he was tight-lipped on his family, so I suspected something was happening there. Maybe in time, I’d learn what it was.

“ Ahem , I am sorry to interrupt this private moment,” Liliana came in, looking anything but sorry. “But we’re about to reconvene, and believe me, you don’t want to fuck up this game.”

“Oh, Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” Beau muttered. “What in God’s name are we gonna do now?”