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

8. Cassie

Chapter 8

Cassie

A t breakfast, I tried not to look too much Beau’s way, not because he looked so damned good in his grey Henley and blue jeans, his hair freshly washed and curling around his nape—but because I was ashamed of how hard I’d come rubbing my clit after returning to my room.

Beau’s mouth was insidious; he kissed like a fiend, and I was sure he could have kissed me to orgasm if I had stayed on his lap any longer. He was not a small man by any stretch of the word, and my belly quivered at the mere thought of him fucking me.

I’d had to keep quiet because, well, Sissy, but I had screamed into my pillow. I was not ashamed of my attraction. I was concerned about how profound it ran inside me. I’d met the guy for a few days, and already I wanted to have sex with him, something I had never felt before with anyone.

It took me five months with Vigo to let him kiss me.

Beau had claimed my lips in a fraction of that time.

“Hello? Earth to Cassie.” Nelly waved her hand in front of my face. “Will the space cadet report to the space station upon receipt of this call?”

I rolled my eyes. “Call received. What may I do you for?”

“Where did you go?” she asked, digging into her fruit salad.

“Wondering what the producers will throw at us next,” I lied. “If you’ve ever seen a reality show, you know they’ll be pulling some shit. Maybe switch our partners or have us, I dunno, make us do a trust skydive or something.”

Her face twisted. “I hope not because I’m deathly afraid of flights, and jumping out the door of a moving plane, nuh uh.”

“I hope not,” I replied as Liliana came inside, clad in on-set black clothes, but there were no cameras around.

“Attention, guys and girls,” she said while tapping at the clipboard in hand. “Starting today, we will be taking confessionals. You know, those private moments when you can all tell the viewers your inner thoughts, what you hated or loved, or whoever you want to kick off the show.”

Nelly and I shared a look.

“Don’t worry. Whatever you say is confidential and won’t be shared with anyone here. The only people who see it are the viewers and you if you decide to watch the show after it's aired.

"For the most part, the confessionals will happen after filming is finished at six, or even if it is the middle of the day and something dramatic happens, we’ll pull you in for those confessionals. Overall, it will take forty-five minutes to an hour to get all of you.”

“Is there like a roster for us to do these confessionals?” Amy asked. “Or is it random?”

“It depends on the day and the activity,” Liliana said, clearly holding back any specifics. “Anyway, be prepared for it. Oh, and we will need you to choose one outfit to wear while giving those confessions. Understand that you will be wearing those clothes every time you step into that room. Ariana and Sutton will be along soon enough for today’s activity. File up.”

Looking around the table, I saw Ryker scowl, Amy looked uncertain, Rome a bit apprehensive, Quentin looked excited, while the rest looked uneasy. Beau was chatting with Emory and Micah with a cup of coffee in hand.

Greer, who was on the other side of me, cocked her head. “You know most of us want to know what happened with you and Beau, right?”

“You do?” I reached for my coffee.

“So…” Nelly leaned in, brows waggling. “Are you going to tell us what happened? They’re going to pull it out of you anyway.”

“I know that too.” I held back the smirk. “Now, why would I be spoiling the surprise?”

Liliana came in, tapping that damned clipboard. “Guys, we need you on set in ten. We’ll be using the back porch for this taping, so keep that in mind.”

Nine minutes later, we were all on the back porch with drinks in hand. We looked scattered haphazardly around, but we were carefully placed. I was sitting on an egg seat while Beau was on the floor near my legs, Nelly and Quentin were in the double egg seat, Ryker was lazing in a hammock, and Danielle was on a stool near him.

The rest were in various versions of those positions when Sutton and Ariana arrived. He was wearing a suave Italian suit and she was in her homey, country getup, jeans this time and a peasant shirt.

“Good morning,” Ariana smiled. “Today, we have another plan for you; this time, we’re sending you on a private date with your partner.”

“The catch is—” Sutton stuck his hands in his pockets and rocked on his heels. “—you don’t get to decide all of it. These dates are not in a traditional restaurant or any date-ish venue. One of you will decide the location, and the other will decide what you eat.”

“And do we have limitations on where we want to go?” Emory asked.

Ariana flashed a grin. “Just don’t be asking for a private plate or dinner at the White House, and we can figure it out. So, are we ready to get started? Emory and Greer, you’re up. Who will choose where to go, and who chooses what to eat?”

The two placed their heads together, Greer’s dark hair clashing with Emory’s russet locks, and they whispered to each other. They came back up, and Greer said, “I’m choosing the location. Do you have a boat?”

“We do.”

“And we’d like pescatarian pasta dishes,” Emory replied.

“Noted,” Ariana scribbled something down on a pad in her hand. “Next, Rome and Alice, lay it on me.”

They asked for the pier and light food, and Ryker and Danielle asked for filet mignon and lobster at a casino—the rich food was clearly Ryker’s idea, and honestly, I thought the place was his too—and they went down the list until we got to Beau and me.

We shared a look, and I grinned. “I’m picking the place because I already know what Beau is going to ask for. Beau, can you please make those beef whatever’s into sliders or stuff that can be in a picnic basket? I want to go to a park.”

“And Beau? Is that right? Is that what you want?” Sutton looked amused.

He shrugged. “Yep. You heard the lady, beef burgers into sliders, potato salad, oh, and the missy likes fresh fruit and wine coolers. Make sure you have a couple of Lone Star beers in there.”

“That’s it?” Ryker snorted. “You’ve got their dime, and you’re asking for shit you can get in a drive-thru? Basic?”

Beau ignored him. “Oh, I forgot, I need a muzzle too.”

Sutton’s brows lifted. “You have a dog?”

“It’s for Mr. Jackass over there.” Beau jerked his head, drawing up a boot. “I’m tempted to use violence.”

“Please don’t,” Sutton drawled. “Your contracts don’t cover attorney fees for attempted murder or aggravated assault.”

“Then let’s get the show on the road,” Beau said.

Standing aside, I held the heaped picnic basket while Beau spread out the blanket under the wide oak tree, and a warm breeze fluttered through the leaves. The hem of my short summer dress moved with the wind, and I kept my eyes on Beau instead of the camera crew around us.

As far as the viewers were concerned, they didn’t exist, and I tried to trick myself into believing it, too. This was a date; for the rest of the world, one in a long line of dates, but for us, it was the first. My breath caught at his unexpected grace: the way his biceps flexed and bunched, the hair fluttering around his ears.

He nodded. “That’s done.”

Gently, I took off my flat shoes and eyed Beau. “No boots on the blankets, Beau.”

He gave a loud sigh. “I’m not an uncluttered barbarian, Cassie,” then tacked on with a murmur, “But thank you for reminding me all the same.”

For a moment, I wondered if Beau had taken acting classes or if he was simply sinking himself into the character. If so, he was doing an Oscar-worthy job of leading people to believe we’d had something once upon a time. I followed him to the blanket and sank, folding my legs to the side.

While unloading the basket, I asked, “You never told me what your plans were for the ranch. Even when we dated, you were mum on that.”

“For good reason,” he leaned on a tree trunk. “You’ve seen the condition some of the ranch is in, well, some of it at least. It was worse before this. When I inherited the place, it was swimming in debt, and I fought tooth and nail to drag out of it. I got a few things done, but I want so much more from this place…”

When he trailed off, I prodded his thigh. “Like what?”

He gave me a wary glance as if he hated spilling these deep, dark secrets he’d thought were his alone. “I want parts of it for the bulls and horse foals because that is why it exists, but as for the other parts, I want to have a place where people get married, places for people to have their privacy, like that newly refurbished cabin, but I want at least three or four of ‘em.

“I want to have a pond, an offshoot of the nearby lake as a scenery aspect, updated stables where more horses can be kept, give nearby school kids riding lessons, roping lessons, anything you can do on a ranch, I would like to teach it. Face it, this business is dyin’, but if I could get more kids into it, maybe they would lean into it. So many things, Cassie.”

His tone was laden with tiredness by the end, and I gave him a small, understanding smile.

“You could have told me all this,” I said gently.

Beau let out a long sigh. “When I was pretending to be a millionaire rancher? How well would you have taken it when I told you I was the complete opposite?”

I looked off into the distance. “I suppose neither of us thought it would have gone beyond that night.”

“Yeah.” Beau tilted his hat back so that with the way he could rest on the tree, he could stare into the boughs above. “That first night still lives in my head.”

Turning back to him, I tilted my head. “You had more scruff on your face back then.”

His wicked grin made my belly flutter. “I know it’s rough. I hope it didn’t scar your tender skin.”

My face flamed. “Jesus, Beau. You don’t need to tell everyone that.”

He leaned into my ear, and while I tilted my head to make sure whatever he said would not be spied on, he whispered, “You like being kissed down there?”

I shoved him, and he toppled sideways, laughing. His hat fell off, and I eyed him hard while trying to stop my lips from twitching. “You’re an asshole.”

His blue eyes were dancing. “I’ve been called worse, so thank you, sweetheart.”

I eyed the picnic basket. “For that, you need to serve me my food.”

He sat up and plopped his hat on my head. “The sun’s hot today. Keep this on until sunset. I will not be responsible for you getting sunburnt.”

I tilted the brim up. “Thanks, cowboy.”

Beau began talking about a football team I had no idea about, but knowing men and their sports, I kept nodding and uttering the occasional ‘uh huh.’

“… And then the Quarterback took a foul, punted the ball to Arkansas, and hitchhiked on the back of a passing eagle to get it before the other team Running Back could grab a velociraptor and grab it before he could,” Beau said solemnly.

I nodded, “Uh—” Then something in my brain snapped, and I realized the nonsense he’d said. My face went red. “Erm.”

He gave me an accusing glare. “You ain’t heard a damn thing I said, did you?”

“You know, I don’t know much about football.” I shrugged. “Or soccer, or basketball, or hockey. You remember that time you bummed out on our date because the team, um, the?—”

“Cowboys,” he interjected.

“—lost that time,” I said. “You men and your football. It's like life or death if your team wins.”

“It is life or death,” Beau mock scowled. “The men on the field must act out the aggression we men feel on the day-to-day, but since we cannot attack bears or Woolly Mammoths again, we live vicariously through them. The points and winning the match are just the sprinkles on top of the ice cream. If they win, we live; if they fail, we die.”

I snickered. “So philosophical. Sigmund Freud would be so proud.”

“About time someone recognized how smart I am.” He plucked a bowl of assorted nuts from the picnic basket and offered some to me. When I shook my head, he popped a few peanuts in his mouth.

A squirrel popped up on its hind feet, sniffing the air, then turned and inched towards Beau. Its little nose twitched at the smell of the treat. I kept still, unwilling to spook the little guy as it came to Beau. It seemed as if it had gotten treats from humans before because it was not shy and came to the edge of the blanket.

Beau gently took some roasted almonds, peanuts, and cashews and placed them at the edge of the blanket, and the squirrel pounced on them. It ate them quickly and came sniffing again.

This time, Beau had the nuts in his palm, and the cheeky little guy stuffed his cheeks with them like a chipmunk and ran off, fluffy tail wagging as he disappeared up a tree.

My heart gave an odd little hiccup in my chest. What was Beau doing to me?