Montana Wild, page 11
“I’m sorry about your mother, Montana,” he says, his voice soft, like a light caress of the first sun rays on a Sunday morning, causing a slight tremor to run down my spine. It’s a pleasant and not at all unwelcome sensation, even if I didn’t expect him of all people to be the cause for it.
I shrug, trying to get rid of these feelings the man evokes inside of me, a man I can’t stand on a good day. “It is what it is,” I dismiss, unsure why I opened up in the first place. “I found something I’m good at and actually love doing.”
A small smile still graces his lips when he says, “Well, I’m glad you eventually realized that and stopped following in your mother’s footsteps. No one wants a mini-Veronika running around here.”
His words, whether they’re said in jest or earnest, hurt, like an arrow shot with precision straight to the mangled heart I possess. I can’t help but flinch once they hit their intended target.
“Fuck you,” I say. As per usual, the anger never far from the surface replaces the hurt. “You don’t know me, you don’t know my family, and you have no fucking clue what my life has been like.”
“I didn’t mean to—” he starts to explain before I interrupt him.
“I don’t give a shit what you did or didn’t mean.” I can’t believe I was stupid enough to believe I misjudged him. “I can’t believe I thought you’re a decent human being. You’re an asshole—always will be.”
I turn to walk away when a hand on my arm stops me in my tracks. “Montana—”
Too irate to hear anything he has to say, I try to pull my arm away to no avail. “Let me go,” I grit out between clenched teeth. “I don’t want to hear what you have to say. I should have known better after Lauren told me you checked on Whisky and didn’t have the fucking decency to let me know, especially after I asked you not to go near him without me present. You totally fooled me, and I actually liked you for a minute.”
I’m still trying to get him to take his hand off me while I’m ranting, not hearing what I’m saying. “Let me go,” I repeat, nearly shouting the words, while ripping my arm out of his grasp. But before I can move away from him, or more like stomp away in anger, I’m turned around and pushed against the wall behind me.
My eyes widened in shock at the sudden turn of events, collide with his, and what I see staring back at me steals my breath right out of my lungs, leaving me breathless for the first time in years. His gorgeous, steel blue eyes are filled with anger, lust, and a determination I’ve never seen before in anyone.
“Montana,” he whispers. “Shut up.”
Even though his voice is quiet, the command in his words is more than clear. But before I have a chance to give him an earful for telling me what to do, his hands frame my face and his lips are on mine, effectively shutting me up
The kiss starts out fueled by anger, both of us battling for dominance, neither willing to surrender. While one of my hands clutches his T-shirt, the other lifts to grip the back of his neck, pulling him infinitely closer.
His tongue is tracing the seam of my lips before he pushes inside, exploring, which is all it takes to replace my anger with lust. Instead of fighting this attraction I have felt for Kade since the day I met him, I give in to the passion taking over every cell in my body.
One of Kade’s hands framing my face slides back into my hair while the other skims down my side to my waist. He pulls me harder against his body and at the same time takes a step forward, pressing me into the stall behind me. I can feel his hard cock rub against me through our clothing, and I can’t help the moan that forms deep in my throat.
He stokes the fire he started deep within me when his hand leaves my waist and trails up my side underneath my sweater and shirt only to stop right below my breast. His fingertips dig into my skin causing my nipples to tighten in anticipation.
He breaks the kiss, both of us panting. When my eyes finally open and connect with his—eyes that are bluer than gray at this point—it’s like the world around us has stopped and all I’m aware of is him, his hands on me, his body pressed against mine. And I can tell he feels the same, for once the wall he usually surrounds himself with when he’s around me is gone, and he lets me see the feelings swirling in the depth of his eyes.
And what I see steals my breath—intense passion and lust I’ve never seen before are directed at me.
His eyes never leave mine as his thumb slowly moves across the skin of my breast and my puckered nipple. My breath catches in my throat when I feel his calloused thumb caress my skin, the fire inside of me growing out of control and threatening to engulf us both, and I wouldn’t lift a finger to stop it, loving this feeling too much.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he says, his voice is barely a whisper. I’m not sure if he meant to say this out loud or not, but I can’t help but melt further at his words.
My eyes drop from his to the curve of his lips while my fingers lightly trace his jaw before I lean in for another heart-stopping kiss when out of nowhere a velvety-soft, black nose shoves his way in between our faces.
Startled by the sudden interruption, I rear back only to slam my head into the iron bars of the stall behind me. The movement causes our hands to drop from one another, putting distance between us.
“Motherfucker,” I hear Kade mutter as he takes another step back, wary eyes on Lucifer whose head was between us, clearly not about to move.
I’m still out of breath from our kiss when I move to the side and away from the wall, rubbing the back of my head where I slammed it against the metal. At my movement, both man and horse swivel to stare at me. One set of eyes filled with equine curiosity, unaware of what he interrupted, I’m sure, while the human set is slowly filling with regret.
I watch as Kade’s eyes, which not a minute ago had been fired up with lust and passion, slowly turn back to the steel blue color I’m used to, all the desire gone, leaving me out in the cold, confused. It’s like watching in slow motion as he realizes what he’s done—what we’ve done. Something it would seem I’m the only one not regretting.
The fact that I don’t regret kissing the man standing in front of me is something that scares me to my core. I shouldn’t miss his lips on mine, his hands caressing my skin. I should be appalled I enjoyed kissing someone like Kade, and not just because he’s been callous toward me for the last month, but also because he has a girlfriend. But I can’t find it in me to care, the kiss we shared felt too right.
But clearly, none of these feelings are reciprocated. Instead of saying anything, trying to bring us back on the same page where kissing is a real possibility, I wait for him to rip me to shreds with the words I know are coming.
“I—we shouldn’t have done this.” The hand that was caressing my breast is now running through his hair in a nervous gesture, messing up his hair even more than my hands did. “This was a mistake.” He carelessly gestures at me, driving the point home that the mistake he’s talking about is not necessarily the kiss, but definitely me.
You were a mistake.
A phrase I’ve heard many times throughout my life reverberates through my skull, and with each echo the wounds the words inflict grow deeper.
It shouldn’t hurt anymore, being discarded by everyone around me, but hearing Kade refer to me as a mistake breaks me more than I expected. All the feelings of belonging, of being where I’m supposed to be, shatter into a million pieces at my feet. Reminding me I don’t belong anywhere and probably never will.
All these emotions must have been clearly visible on my face because Kade’s face changes from the mask of indifference he put on after Lucifer interrupted us to one of confusion. “Montana…” he whispers my name in a soft voice, like he’s afraid anything else would shatter me completely.
He looks like he’s about to apologize, either for what he said or the kiss itself, or worse, justify how he’d never be able to see me as anything more than a spoiled society princess with no regard for anyone else.
And I can’t bear to hear either of those. “You’re right, Kade, we shouldn’t have done this,” I say, even though deep inside me saying those words hurts more than anything, because they’re a lie. “Let’s just forget this happened. No one has to know, especially Lauren.”
I avoid looking at him out of fear I’ll see relief that I’ll keep this secret. Instead, I start to walk around him, leaving as much space as possible between us so I can leave the barn and the memory of his kiss behind me.
“Montana, that’s not—” he starts, but I interrupt whatever excuse he was going to utter. “Take care of yourself, Kade.”
Chapter Eleven
I’m lying face down on my bed in my father’s house, contemplating where I went so incredibly wrong with my life. Focusing on every mistake I ever made up until the kiss I shared with Kade. I don’t normally feel regret; it’s as useful a feeling as self-pity. It won’t change anything. Of course, when I feel sad, I sometimes wish I could change certain things, but the one thing I’ll never wish hadn’t happened is that kiss. It felt too right.
It’s bad enough one of us clearly regrets what happened.
With a groan, I turn to my back and stare at the white ceiling, trying to divert my thoughts away from my past as well as Kade.
I can’t believe he kissed me only to tell me it was a mistake. Why would he kiss me in the first place? He’s the one with the girlfriend, the one who hates me for no reason.
“Ugh,” I growl, a guttural sound that speaks to just how aggravated I am at the situation and myself.
Not knowing what else to do, I pick up the phone and call Dakota, the one person I know I can tell anything to without being judged in return. I listen to the ringing while replaying the kiss over and over in my head, unable to help myself.
“Yo.” A voice with what sounds like a Texan accent says on the other end of the line, a male voice I don’t recognize.
“Uh…” I stammer, unsure if I called the right number, but a quick glance at the display shows I indeed called my best friend. “Is Dakota there?”
“Who wants to know?” the voice asks me back, and I can hear my best friend say something in the background, but I can’t make out what.
“Her best friend.”
“Montana?” he asks in excitement, like talking to me was something he’s been dying to do for a while now.
“Yes.” I have to work hard to hold the exasperation I feel back, since it has little to do with the guy on the phone and everything with the one kissing me only to tell me he regrets doing so. “And you are?”
“I’m Maverick. Dakota’s man.”
“Her what?” I can’t conceal the shock in my voice. She’s never mentioned she’s met someone, let alone someone called Maverick with a voice so deep and rough it would send shivers down anyone’s spine.
Instead of getting upset at my question, laughter sounds on the other end of the phone. “Sounds like she’s got some explaining to do.”
“Mav!” I hear Dakota shout in playful annoyance. It’s the first time in years I’ve heard her sound like this. Too happy to actually be annoyed at the other person, so you’re mock-aggravated instead.
“Settle down, babe,” Mav says to her in a soothing voice and to my surprise it actually works. Instead of telling him off, I can hear her sigh on the other end of the line.
I can’t help the smile tugging at the corners of my mouth, too happy to hear Dakota has found someone who seems to make her happy. “As cute as you guys are, I’m still on the line here.”
“Right,” Mav says in a voice that seems distracted. “I’ll let you talk to Dakota, but I’m looking forward to meeting you soon.”
“Uh, sure,” I say, and I can hear him hand the phone over while he tells her, “I’ll give you two some privacy. Seems like you got a lot to talk about.” The reprimand isn’t lost on either of us that he’s slightly miffed she hasn’t told me about him yet.
“Hey,” Dakota’s voice is slightly hesitant when she answers the phone, like she’s unsure of my reaction.
“Are you happy?” I ask the one question that matters most.
“Yes.” Her voice is a whisper, like she’s afraid if she says it too loudly it’ll go away.
“I’m glad, babe. You deserve to be happy.”
“You’re not mad I haven’t told you about him?”
“No, of course not. I understand. Sometimes you need to keep certain things for yourself a little while before you share them with others. I get that.”
“Thank you.” I roll my eyes heavenward, knowing the only reason she didn’t say anything was because she was afraid to hurt me with her happiness. Something she’s done since I spilled most of my secrets to her after a night filled with too much vodka.
“Kota—”
“I know,” she interrupts me from saying anything more. “I need to stop worrying about your feelings whenever I’m happy.”
“At least you know better.” Growing uncomfortable lying on the bed, I get up and move to the chair overlooking the valley, a place I have found solace in since I arrived. “So tell me all about Mav. How did you meet?”
“Uhm,” she hesitates, like she doesn’t want to tell me how they met for some reason. “Remember the guy I met last summer in Seattle at the bar and went home with him?”
“The one who cooked you breakfast and made you coffee, promising to call, only for you to never hear from him again?” I can’t help the disapproval entering my voice, mainly because Dakota was so incredibly hurt when he never called her like he promised. “Don’t tell me Mav’s that guy?”
“Well, he is. But,” she rushes out, making sure I can’t get started on a lecture she knows would be coming, “it was my fault.”
“What?” my voice sharpens, unsure how to take the comment since I can’t imagine she did anything wrong back then.
“Well, I feel really stupid, but I gave him a wrong number by accident.”
“How—” I have to fight to hold back the laughter, after how angry we were, me on her behalf, it’s ultimately all her fault, but my voice is still shaking when I continue, “How the hell did that happen?”
“I don’t know.” I can hear the exasperation in her voice. “And it’s not even a variation of the fake number I usually give out. Seriously, I have no clue how this happened.”
“Jesus, Kota.”
“I know,” she replies. “It’s like I sabotaged myself subconsciously.”
“Sounds like it. How did you meet again then?”
“Well, he found me while I was in Florida.”
I press her for more details when she doesn’t continue. It’s like pulling teeth with her sometimes. “Found you how?”
“Ugh,” she groans. “This is embarrassing. He found me on Instagram and messaged me. You know I usually never check those messages, but that day it was like something told me to.”
“So he slid into your DMs is what you’re saying, all smooth and shit.”
At my comment she bursts out laughing so hard it takes her a full minute to catch her breath. “You know, he even used one of GIFs about sliding into someone’s DM.”
I can’t help but join in on her laughter when I picture the man with the deep sexy voice and body that probably comes with a voice like that using a GIF to appear smooth while sliding into someone’s DM.
“I know,” her voice is still shaking with suppressed laughter. “I couldn’t believe it either.”
“Okay, so he messaged you four weeks ago. How come it took him like six months to get in touch? You didn’t give him a wrong name after all.”
“Well, no, but he thought I gave him the wrong number on purpose, obviously. He didn’t think I’d wanted to see him again, but, in his words, he couldn’t get me out of his head, no matter how much he tried.”
And he probably tried with a lot of different females, I think derisively, but don’t voice it. Just because I have a hard time remembering some men are decent doesn’t mean I need to ruin my friend’s happiness.
Dakota’s voice pulls me out of my reverie. “So he decided to try and find me, only to learn it was all a big misunderstanding.”
“Well, at least he put in the effort to find you.”
“Yeah, he’s been visiting whenever he isn’t traveling or training. He’s from Texas.”
“Good. What does he do?”
“He’s a… well…” she hesitates.
“Just spit it out already.”
“He’s a bull rider.”
There’s a long pause when I don’t know what to say. Mark, the ex-boyfriend who broke my heart when he cheated, is a bull rider. Granted, we were young when we were together, barely eighteen, but it doesn’t change the fact that he broke not just my heart but my trust.
Ever since Mark though, I’ve held a certain, probably undeserved, amount of disdain for any bull rider. To be fair, for anyone involved in rodeos. I know I’m not being fair, but the eighteen-year-old Montana was hurting and needed a reason for the boy she loved to devastate her. It was easy to blame his profession instead of analyzing the relationship deeper and noticing all the red flags and cracks in its foundation.
Rationally I know being a bull rider had nothing to do with him cheating, but emotionally I expect them all to be unfaithful.
“Montana…” Dakota pleads quietly, knowing exactly what’s going on in my head. It’s her quiet plea that reminds me this isn’t about me and my issues, this is Dakota, my best friend. The one who’s always been there for me no matter what.
“He treat you well?”
“Yes, Mon. He treats me like a queen, as silly as that might sound.”
“It’s not silly. It’s the way you deserve to be treated. I’m glad you found someone who is worthy.”
“He is. You’ll see once you meet him,” she declares, her voice strong with cheerfulness.
“As long as you’re happy.” Delight for my best friend fills me, knowing instinctively she’s found someone who’s right for her and treats her right. “But I reserve the right to kick his ass should he mistreat you. Or hire someone to do so,” I add, remembering he rides bulls for a living and probably knows how to defend himself.
