Michael (Wild Men #8)

Chapter 29

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Emery

Turns out Luke’s right.

Cooper and Chase both place in the bronc riding competition, and Luke is cheering right alongside Michael and me and the rest of the Wild clan.

He’s so pumped that, when he turns away to talk to Brayden, I ask Michael in a low tone, “Did Luke used to compete?”

Michael nods. “He was one of the best around. So much talent, and he outworked everyone else. But then…he had an accident. Was told he could never compete again.”

“I had no idea,” I say softly. “That must have been so difficult for him.”

I look past Michael to Luke. He’s staring into the ring where the next competition is being set up. His jaw is tense like steel, and I can read the longing in his expression.

I can’t imagine what it feels like to love your career that much.

Huh. I replay that thought back to myself.

“What’s that?” Michael asks .

Oh, I said it out loud.

“Just thinking about things,” I say noncommittally.

He studies my face but doesn’t say anything except to kiss my forehead.

“Do you want to walk around the rest of the fair?” he asks.

“That sounds fun,” I say. “We could play some of the arcades. And maybe we can ride the Ferris wheel.”

He takes my hand. “Let’s do it.”

It’s a hot summer day, and I’m wearing a tank top and mini skort so I can feel the sun beating on my bare skin as we wander through the fair. We stop for ice cream under a tent, but then we head into the thick of the fair to try our hand at a few games.

Neither one of us is any good at them, and we eventually break into laughter and head for the amusement rides.

“Your shoulders are starting to burn.” Michael gently presses on my left shoulder. “The skin is pink.”

“I’m so not a summer girl,” I say. “Give me a northern climate, please.”

“Same here.” He pulls his ball cap down more so the visor puts his face in shadow.

His t-shirt and long shorts are so sexy. Impulsively, I put my hand into his back pocket as we walk.

“Now you’re getting me all hot and bothered,” he jokes.

“I’m pretty sure the sun is doing that all on its own.”

“Not the same.” He puts his arm around me and kisses the top of my head. “Your hot and bothered is always welcome.”

“Shall we ride the Ferris wheel and make out at the top?”

He stops me in the middle of the grassy area and kisses me, long and slow .

I slip my hands underneath the hem of his t-shirt and run my fingers over his hard abs. He lets out a growl and pulls me in closer.

And I lose myself in our kiss.

Michael is a great kisser. The best ever in my book. Not because of any one thing but because of how much effort he puts into it. He savors each little nibble and every tug of my bottom lip. His tongue expertly knows its way around my mouth, and while his kisses are urgent and filled with desire, he never seems to rush.

Eventually, I become vaguely aware of being bumped into by passers-by, and we break apart.

Breathing heavily, I stare up at him.

“You make me wild, Emery,” he says after a few beats.

This moment between us…it hangs heavy under the hot Montana sun.

“Michael, I…”

“Emery, do you…”

Whatever either of us were about to say comes to a screeching halt as the loudspeaker starts blaring with a warning to vacate the area due to one of the food trucks having an issue with its smoker.

“There is no fire,” the person says. “But we need to bring in a fire truck to remove the risk of a fire starting from any lingering embers. Please exit this area and go toward the rides.”

Michael takes my hand. “Let’s go for a ride.”

The Ferris wheel is one of those fast, super high ones where I actually feel dizzy at the top.

“I can’t make out with you up here,” I say to Michael as I white-knuckle the safety bar and try not to look down. “I wanted to, but I’ve never been an amusement ride kind of girl. I’ll take standing on the ground over this any day.”

“That can be arranged,” he says. “Once we get down to the bottom.”

I laugh. “Yeah, better wait till then. But we can’t return to the food or games area for a while, and I’m kind of done with the rodeo for the day.”

“Me too. What else do you like to do? You said you’re good at tennis, right?”

“I’m okay. I took lessons for years. My mom was really into it, so we play together. It’s nice mother-daughter time.”

“Are you competitive with one another?”

“We are actually. I’m not a super competitive person, but my mom brings out the worst in me.” I smile. “Aunt Lynn tried to play with us once. She brought a friend, and they were doubles partners, so Mom and I were on the same team for once. I don’t think they scored a point.”

Michael grins. “You and your mom beat them handily, huh?”

“Yeah. Aunt Lynn didn’t enjoy the experience. I can’t say I blame her.”

“Are the courts you play at nearby?”

I tilt my head. “Are you suggesting we play?”

“Why not? I’ve played tennis a bit. Okay, hardly ever.”

I laugh.

“But I’m game to try.”

The Ferris wheel mercifully starts moving. A few more minutes and my feet will be on solid ground.

“Okay. Let’s play. The courts rent rackets, and you can pay for balls.”

Tennis with Michael is nothing like playing with my mom.

Michael makes it romantic. We walk out to the courts holding hands. I’m bouncing with excitement, so it looks almost like I’m pulling Michael along behind me.

“Hey, slow down.” He chuckles. “You’re going to enjoy this, aren’t you? Maybe it will be payback for the fly fishing.”

I laugh. “Not payback. Just friendly competition.”

My mom worked as a nanny for a couple years when I was around twelve. The family she worked for belonged to a fancy country club, and I went with her occasionally and got signed up for tennis lessons. The ball came out of that machine thingy so fast I don’t know how I ducked in time.

But I learned.

And soon, my mom and I were hooked.

“Here, Emery, you start.” Michael hands me three tennis balls from the box at the edge of the court and pats me on the butt as I turn to walk towards my end.

I wind up, throw the ball in the air, and hit it as hard as I can. When it lands in the corner of the court across the net, I wait for Michael to return it. He hits it back in my direction, and I volley it to him.

He misses.

“You’re fine!” I call across. “You serve this time.”

The recreation park manager, whom I’ve known for years, appears just outside the courts. He’s an older gentleman whose granddaughter is the same age as I am. He loves tennis and works hard to keep the courts clean and safe for everyone.

“Hey Ben,” I call out.

“I’m taking a lunch break,” he says, his white hair blowing in the light wind. “You mind a spectator?”

“Not at all,” I say.

“Although you might want to go to a different court to see some real tennis,” Michael says to him. “I’ll be lucky to return this ball across the net.”

“Not to worry,” he says with a chuckle. “I’m just having a quick meal.” He opens his water bottle and takes a sip before biting into a slice of pizza.

Michael serves the ball successfully over to me. I return it to him softly.

He returns it again, and it sails over the net and past me.

“See, you did that perfectly!” I say to Michael. “You won the point.”

“Might be my last one,” Michael jokes.

Ben calls out a tip to Michael and then gives us the thumbs-up.

We play for a while with me winning most of the points. I’m not keeping score, but Michael keeps announcing each point. I’m enjoying playing with him so much, and the score is irrelevant to me. It’s just fun to have a partner to do things like this with. I’ve never been genuinely friends with a guy I’ve dated before. This is a first for me, and I’m loving hanging out together.

Michael and I get a good volley going before he misses. I run over to the fence to get the ball.

“Beautiful day, isn’t it?” Ben asks me.

“Lovely weather,” I agree.

Michael appears at my side. He kisses my cheek. “You’re really good, babe.”

“Thank you.” I smile at Ben. “He’s a good one, don’t you think?”

Ben gives the thumbs-up again. “Hold onto him,” he says.

Hold onto him.

I’m trying.

But maybe not hard enough.

Spending time with Michael is something I’ve started to take for granted .

Days like this where we go to the fair, play tennis, and then go home and make love…these days are numbered, and I’m not sure how to hold onto them.