Suddenly she was very conscious of the fact that she was a whole lot smaller than he was. That he was big and muscular and hard in ways she wasn’t.
That he was staring at her with obsidian eyes that glinted in the light in a way that she couldn’t decode.
And it made it hard to breathe. Made it difficult to catch her breath. Made it difficult to do anything. So she just stood there, with her boots feeling like they were sinking into the dry dirt, meeting his eyes, and letting those words just kind of hang in the air between them.
“Great,” he said. “You know as much as the average kindergartner. Congratulations. But if that’s the extent of your knowledge, I’d study up before I get out there in the real world, Callie. That’s a problem. You want freedom, but you don’t have the knowledge you need to back it up. You don’t have any experience. I’m willing to support you, but you need to let your ego deflate a little bit. You’re a good kid. And you’re talented. But you’re not amazing. And you’re not going to defy the odds without working at it. You’re not bulletproof, you’re not made of Teflon. Honey, you gotta get your head on straight. Because what you’re doing is damned dangerous, and you’re at a disadvantage. You need to be real honest with yourself about that.”
“I don’t love anything else,” she said. “And I don’t know... I’ve never felt so alive as I do on the back of a horse. Every nerve ending is on fire, every muscle is working for something. It’s the only time I’m one thing. Like I’m not being pulled in a hundred different directions. I don’t care about how hard it is. I don’t care about how risky it is.”
“Fine,” he said. “You need to say that it’s dangerous. You need to admit it.”
“Why?”
“Don’t push me, Cal. I am not in the mood.”
“Maybe I don’t care what kind of mood you’re in.”
He took a step closer to her, and she could feel his gaze somehow. “Listen to me. Listen good. I will stand you up at that altar tomorrow if I think you’re just going to take this money and go out there and get yourself killed because you’re not taking things seriously enough. So if I were you, I would listen to me. And I would take my friend seriously.”
She tilted her chin upward. “Fine. It’s dangerous. I did get hurt. It’s still worth it to me.”
“Okay,” he said.
They just stared at each other for a long moment, and she had the strangest sensation, like the one she had on the back of the horse. That the air around her had shrunk again, and the biggest thing that existed was the two of them.
“You better not stand me up tomorrow.” She turned away from him and started walking toward the house, limping slightly. She was going to have a hell of a bruise on her hip.
“I’m a man of my word. As I think you know.”
“Yeah, you’re also a pain in the butt.”
“No,” he countered, “that would be your chosen profession. If you can’t stand the heat... Stay out of the arena.”
“Buck off.” She lifted her hand and held up her middle finger.
“Cute.”
“I’m not cute,” she growled. “I’m a cowgirl. And at the end of all this, everyone’s going to know it.”
“I’m sure they will.” His footsteps stopped. “I have some things to finish up outside. You go have that shower.”
“Fine. See you tomorrow morning. At the courthouse.”
“See you there.”
Tomorrow they were going to get married. Tomorrow, she was going to be his wife.
It wasn’t until she was standing in the shower, naked and running her hands over her body, that that word sent a streak of white-hot lightning over her skin, and made her pause. A wife.
Jake Daniels’s wife.
And suddenly more memories of her time talking with different women in the rodeo hit, that she really wished had stayed buried.
Stamina.
His hands.
Biggest man I’ve ever seen.
I think he can hold his breath for at least five minutes.
She didn’t know what that last one even meant and it made her skin feel irritated.
No.
It didn’t mean anything.
It didn’t.
She could lose her focus. Not now. The most important thing was keeping her eye on the prize.
The wedding was just a means to an end. That was all.
CHAPTER SIX
HE FIGURED HE had to wear his church clothes to a wedding, whether or not it was real. That, for him, meant a long-sleeved black button-up shirt, a pair of black jeans and a nice belt buckle. A black hat to match, and his good cowboy boots.
When he came out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, Callie was there, in blue jeans and a thermal top, looking about the same as she always did.
“I overdressed,” he said.
She was staring at him, her eyes slightly rounded.
“What?” he asked, headed toward the coffeemaker. They were having an inhumanely early wedding, since they weren’t having anyone in attendance except for the court-appointed witness. So they had taken the free slot that just happened to be right after the courthouse opened.
“Oh, it’s just... You look... Clean.”
He chuckled. “Thanks.”
She kept on staring at him, and he wondered... He had to wonder, just for a second if she was... But even if she was, she didn’t know.
Good thing, too.
“Let’s go,” he said. “Weddings wait for no one.”
They loaded up into the truck, and began to drive out toward town.
“This is weird,” she said. She paused for a moment. “I didn’t think it would be weird.”
“You didn’t think it would be weird to marry your best friend?” The minute he said that, he realized it danced perilously close to a cliché, and didn’t sound as strange as he would like.
She shifted noisily beside him and he was all too aware.
Of her. Her clothes. “I don’t know. I thought that... I felt guilty about it. But I thought that because we talked about it, I would be in the right place. We know what this is. I know what it is. I guess...”
“What? Spit it out, Cal. I’m not a stranger. I’m Jake.” A reminder to himself, if nothing else. They weren’t anything different than they’d ever been. Whatever strange little moments had passed between them over the past week. Whatever electrical currents seemed to fizzle beneath the surface when he got too close to her. She didn’t know. She didn’t know, and that was what mattered. What he knew or didn’t know...