Honoring Freedom (Cowboys of Sagebrush Rose #3)

Chapter Two

The worst mistake was coming into the room and touching LB, but at the time she wasn’t thinking clearly. Her nerves had gotten the best of her as she watched him take a hit from the bull. Making sure her brother was okay first, she then marched to the infirmary tent, flashed her badge, and thankfully no one asked any questions. She found LB resting on the exam table with only a sheet tossed across his bare bottom. He had an ice pack against his head and a bloody cloth on the dried cut on his bottom.

Now here they were. Staring at each other like two bulls ready to charge.

He held the sheet against his lap like someone was about to take it from him.

“I don’t know why you bother hiding the goods. It’s not like I haven’t seen them. You couldn’t have changed that much in the last twelve years.” She held her ground, ignoring the telltale signs of curiosity spinning through her, weaving a path of desire. His hair was shorter, no longer reaching the neckline of his shirt. There were new lines and creases around his eyes and mouth, but age hadn’t marred his features. If anything, he’d only gotten more handsome. Distinguished.

Why did this add to her annoyance?

“What are you doing here? And why are you touching me?” His mouth twisted and his tan faded.

“I should be asking that same question. Why are you in Wildflower Ridge?”

“Didn’t we just settle that?” He jutted his prominent, whiskered chin at the table. “While you were inflicting torture.”

She snorted. “So much drama. You certainly do have nerve. But then again, you never were a stranger to arrogance. You should have never come here.”

“You and your family don’t own Wildflower, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me that. I am not your sweetheart. You know as well as I do the trouble this could stir up.”

He chuckled and loosened the sheet some. “I’m not concerned about your hot-headed brothers.”

“You should be, or maybe it’s another feud you’re banking for.” She folded her arms over her waist, to put the butterflies in her stomach to rest.

“Me? Starting a feud? You’re lying to yourself. Your family thrives on theatrics. You pretending to be a therapist is prime example,” he said through clenched teeth.

“I’m not pretending. I am a sports therapist.” Haisley stared at him, realizing she’d made a big mistake being there. What had she expected? What would come of them facing each other? Taking a backward step, her intention was to leave, until…

“Some kind of therapist you are.” He sniffed. “You just wanted to get a look at my ass. Admit it.”

She targeted him in her narrowed gaze. “Have you sniffed too much of your strong ego? Been there, done that, and learned my lesson.”

“Really? In that case, I don’t have to worry about you looking then.” He held her gaze for three heartbeats then he dropped the sheet.

Fully aware that he was completely naked, she refused to give him the satisfaction of looking. She had no desire to check him out, especially since he acted so arrogantly. That was just like him teasing her.

She also didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of turning away, so she kept her gaze planted on his profile as he strolled over and grabbed his ripped jeans off a hook. As much control and determination as she had, the temptation became too great. She caught a glance of his tight bottom.

There, the need was out of her system. Now she could focus on why she came.

But why was that again?

Oh yeah, the painting.

Once his jeans were pulled up and zipped into place, she said to his back, “I came to speak to you, and it has nothing to do with seeing you naked.”

He faced her. “I don’t believe you.”

“I don’t care if you believe me. You can believe whatever you choose.”

He pulled his shirt on, leaving it unbuttoned. His biceps flexed, tightening the material across the broad expanse of his wide shoulders. Her mind conjured up memories of how he once held her with such gentleness, like she was made of porcelain. She’d never found another who was the size of a giant and yet as gentle as a saint.

He’d gifted her with so many firsts. Undone her with his touch. Seeped strength into the center of her bones. People said a woman never forgot her first love, and if that were the case, she was in big trouble.

Truthfully, she wanted to hate him, but she didn’t. Couldn’t. She just hadn’t forgiven the heartbreak and she held onto those feelings. The only person she was hurting was herself, but for now, these were her emotions.

“If you’re so worried about the Ryders keeping their distance, why did you do this?” He encompassed his hand through the air.

He buttoned his shirt halfway and planted his black Stetson onto his head. His haughtiness made the air snap. His pensive blue eyes seemed to laser their way under her skin. He was still ridiculously sexy.

“I’m getting to that,” she said.

“I sure hope so.” His moody voice with the country twang sent an awareness straight into the apex of her thighs.

“I want the painting back. The one my grandmother Helena painted and gave to your mother.”

He remained quiet for a good five seconds, his eyes narrowing on her, making the hot temperature from outside reach inside the air-conditioned tent. Sweat beaded on her forehead and between her breasts. How could he still affect her like this?

“Not this again,” he growled.

“What do you mean? Not this again?” She mimicked his low, husky tone. “You and I have never discussed it.”

“That’s because we didn’t care. Let’s not start now.” He took a step toward the exit.

“I’ve always cared. I just didn’t mention it. The painting rightly belongs to my family.”

He turned, nailing her with a heated glare. “Why now?”

“Because it’s high time to hand it over.”

“A painting that your grandmother gave to my mother?” His deep laugh echoed through the small space. “You’ve got to be kidding me. I gave you a coin that my grandfather gave me before he passed away. Should I ask for that gift back?”

She blinked. She’d forgotten about the silver coin that he’d given to her for luck. “I should have given it back. You’re right. We can make a fair trade. The coin for the painting.”

For a second she thought he was considering her suggestion until he burst into laughter, slapping his hand against his thigh. “Gift giving means as little to you as promises do. The answer is no . Keep the coin. The Ryders will keep the painting.” He turned his back to her and strode out of the room.

“Why are you being this way?” She stomped after him.

He lifted the heavy flap leading to the outside and allowed it to fall back into her. She was knocked back a few steps, but she righted herself and caught up to him.

“Well?” she sputtered.

“Being what way?”

“Stubborn.”

“Have you forgotten that the painting doesn’t belong to me? It’s been hanging above the fireplace at the farmhouse for over forty years. Do you think I can just walk in, take it down and hand it over so easily? Ma loved that painting, hence why she hung it in the most prominent place of the house. Now other than that tidbit, I don’t know anything more about the damned thing, except that you should go to Pa if you want it back, but I wouldn’t hold your breath. He won’t fall for that innocent Bambi look any more than I will.”

Innocent Bambi look?

“It’s just like you Ryders to do something like this out of spite,” she gritted through her teeth.

The heat pounded down upon them, and she wished she had a hat to protect her face. Her forehead was burning.

He stopped and one corner of his mouth played with a smile. “The Ryders, huh? It’s just like you Thorns to be so petty that you’d want, no demand , a painting back that was a gift to my mother…who just happens to no longer be here.”

“And my grandmother is gone too. You know how close she and I were.”

“Ahh, so now we’re getting to the real root of things. You want the painting for yourself, not the family.”

She pressed her fingers into her temples where a throbbing was taking up residence. The combination of stress and heat made her feel woozy. Dropping her hands to her sides, she sighed. “This could mend some bridges between our families—the goodwill of your family offering the painting. And truth is, yes, I’d like the painting for myself. That was the last painting my grandmother did because shortly after she had a stroke and lost the mobility of her hands. For many years, she talked about that painting, how it had meant a lot to her. I know it meant something to your ma too. What I’m asking is for you to speak to your father on my behalf and see if he’d be kind enough to let me have it.”

He opened his mouth but must have thought better of what he wanted to say because he slammed his lips shut. Rubbing the back of his neck, he swung his gaze up and down the crowd standing near the arena.

Was he stalling for time?

When he looked back at her, the lines around his mouth had softened. “Fine. I’ll speak to him. I can’t promise he’ll see your way of things, but he’s also a fair man. I don’t think he liked the painting as much as Ma did.”

Stunned that he even agreed to try, she felt the tension leave her shoulders. She wanted to remind him that her father was fair too, but she didn’t want to press her luck. “Thank you, LB.”

He snorted. “Don’t thank me yet.”

“I’m sorry for—” Haisley’s words paused when a slender hand attached itself to his bicep. The appendage belonged to a sultry, pretty blonde with wide set blue eyes and a plump mouth. Haisley felt a groan build inside her throat.

“Hi, handsome.” Ashley Rae stood on the toes of her cowgirl boots, a pose that caused her rounded bottom to stick out in shorts that were so short they showed off her cheeks, and kissed LB on the jaw. “I can’t believe you sent Cruise home without a trophy.”

Haisley cleared her throat.

It was then that the blonde settled her gaze on Haisley, faking surprise. “Oh, I apologize. I didn’t see you.”

“I’m sure you didn’t,” Haisley cooed. She never liked this type of sugary sweet conversation, but she also didn’t want to lose control in front of LB. His eyes were on her as if he expected her to unleash the flying monkeys. Well, she’d show him by not allowing herself to sink to his level.

“I was just saying to LB that poor Cruise went home empty handed this year.” Ashley gripped LB’s arm possessively.

“Yes, I heard. I was standing here.” She urged her smile to deepen.

“Oh, that’s right.” Ashley turned her back to Haisley and took a step so that she blocked LB’s view. Ashley had always been an attention hog. “So, now that you’re in my neighborhood, can I talk you into coming with me to Wildflower Harry’s tonight? They have a live band playing.” She leaned in closer, walking her fingers down the buttons of his shirt. “I need a cheering section while I ride the mechanical bull.”

LB frowned.

Aha! He wasn’t the least bit interested in Ashley. Only irritation washed over his features. Smiling, Haisley pushed on her sunglasses and left LB and Miss No Boundaries behind.

Haisley had almost reached the table with the pies and cakes when she heard heavy footsteps behind her. “Why did you walk away?”

She lifted her chin, looking up at LB who had worked up a sweat chasing her. His face, neck and shirt were damp, and she’d never found him sexier.

The breeze picked up, offering a brief respite from the heat. Pieces of her hair had fallen out of the messy topknot, and she blew them away from her mouth. “I’d rather sleep in a bed of spiders than watch you and Ashley catch up on old times.” She continued to the table, looking for more of the Earl Grey cupcakes. She hoped LB would get the hint, but he didn’t. He joined her.

“She and I aren’t together,” he said close to her ear.

“No, but obviously there is something there on her side. You should go catch up to her and hit the local honkytonk tonight. Celebrate.” She rolled her eyes.

“Are you jealous?” There was laughter in his tone.

She refused to look at him. “Hardly. You two make a good couple.”

“I can tell you think very highly of Ashley, and me,” he grunted.

“Go away. I’m busy.” She made a shooing gesture.

“Oh, so you want me to disappear now that I’m no longer naked,” he said loudly.

“LB! Shush.” She looked around, grateful that the only one who heard him was the lady in the booth.

“Why? You don’t want people to know you touched my—”

She quickly covered his mouth with her hand. “Shut. Up,” she whispered.

“That’s not very nice.” His words were muffled by her hand.

“And neither are you. If I take my hand away, you must promise you won’t embarrass me.” She felt her cheeks flame.

He made a nodding gesture.

She removed her hand.

“Afternoon, ma’am,” he said to the vendor who batted her eyelashes in complete interest.

“Afternoon,” she answered, obviously taken by him.

Haisley inwardly groaned. Why did he have to be so handsome and charming? She turned her attention back to the cakes. “I was here earlier and tried one of the Earl Grey samples.”

The vendor didn’t even look in Haisley’s direction.

“Would you like a sample?” The vendor held up the tray for LB.

“I’d love one. Do you have a favorite?” he asked.

“Well, if I had to choose, I’d say this one.” She pointed at the Earl Grey cupcake.

He popped the piece of cake into his mouth and savored it, rolling his eyes into the back of his head. “Wow. That’s delicious.”

Haisley started to reach for a sample, but the woman inadvertently pulled the tray out of reach.

“I’ll take a half dozen of those beauties,” LB said, fishing out his wallet and taking out some bills. “Keep the change.”

“Thank you,” she blushed.

The woman packed up his order and handed him the box.

“Can I get two of the same cupcakes?” Her mouth salivated. She had plans to take her cupcakes home and eat them tonight, in a bubble bath with a glass of wine.

“Sorry. We just sold out.” The vendor didn’t show a bit of regret.

Haisley narrowed her gaze on LB. She swiveled on the heels of her boots and marched away from the booth. When she heard him behind her, she sighed. “I’m not in the mood.”

“Are you mad? Did you really want the cupcakes?”

Against better judgment, she stopped and faced him. “Yes, I did.”

“Sorry.”

“Have you noticed you’ve said that several times and it’s not working,” she bit out.

“You snooze you lose.” He reached into the box and took out one of the cupcakes, biting into it, tormenting her with a light moan.

Why did she feel butterflies in her stomach?

Anger coursed through her veins.

“I want those cupcakes. They belong to me.”

“First the painting. Now cupcakes. When did you get so greedy?” His husky voice sent a shiver of awareness down her spine.

“Give me the cupcakes. You knew I was going to buy them.” She grabbed for them, but he was quicker and held them above his head. With a much longer reach, there was no way she could ever hope to reach them. “Give it here!” She jumped, still not even close.

His expression changed and his eyes twinkled. He found enjoyment in her irritation.

“They’re only cupcakes,” he murmured.

“It’s the idea. They belong to me, and I want them.” She bounced around him.

“Technically, you only asked for two.” He chuckled. His feral grin ripped a heated path through her body.

Damned traitorous body.

“You’re only doing this to pester me.” She danced around him, not caring that people had stopped to stare.

“If you ask me the right way, I’ll gladly hand them over.”

She came to a standstill in front of him. “You want me to ask nicely? After you bought them when you knew I wanted them?” She snorted.

“I didn’t know you wanted this flavor or that these were the last. We’re gathering an audience.”

“That’s because your fly is unzipped,” she said with a smile.

In that moment, he lowered the box a few inches as he reached down to check his zipped zipper. She managed to jump high enough to knock the box out of his upheld hand, sending it toppling to the ground into a smashed heap of cake and icing.

“Oh no, you didn’t!” He looked disappointed. “Good cupcakes gone to waste.”

“I guess neither of us will have them now.” She proudly swiped her palms together then took off walking while he grabbed the box and dumped it into a trash can.

“We’re not finished here, Hay!” He called after her.

She lifted her hand and waved as she sashayed her way through the line of onlookers. She didn’t need to look back to know he was still watching.