Forever Cocky_A Cocky Bitch Book Read online

Page 7


  Huh? He thinks I’m hitting him because we kissed?

  Um, no!

  I’m hitting you because you’re going to get me killed!

  I snap at him. “No, that was just a kiss. A hot ass kiss, but whatever. No big deal.” His head whips back and he stares at me but his jaw clenches. “No, I’m hitting you because you just told Duke that we’re going to wait here for some coyotes. Some coyotes that just killed a cow! You only have one gun, Falcon! What happens if they attack us? I can’t do anything against a coyote! I don’t want to wait out here to die!”

  His eyes flash in what looks like shock… and then he starts laughing.

  He’s laughing?!

  Why is he laughing?

  Oh, my dying is funny to him?

  He chuckles again and crosses his arms over his chest while watching me. A smirk crosses his face and I just want to punch him in the mouth. He says, “The pack of coyotes killed a calf, not a cow. A calf is a baby. It’s pretty small. An entire pack of them killed a calf. This is only two coyotes. The rest are dead.”

  I blink at him. “And…”

  He laughs again. “Eliza, a coyote is roughly the size of a dog… it is basically a wild dog. Can one kill a human? Sure, but it would have to be some really perfect circumstances. The coyote would pretty much have to be rabid…” He points to the gun. “I can take both of them out before they even know what hits them. They’ll never even get close to you. But if you’d like, you can sit in the truck with the windows up to feel safe.”

  He’s making fun of me.

  I AM going to punch him in his face.

  Balling my fist up, I swing at him. He’s so much taller than me and I’m not used to punching people, so he sees it coming a mile away and catches my hand. I growl at him as I try to swing at him with my left hand but he grabs that one, too. I’m flailing around like a fish out of water just trying to connect with any part of his body when he pulls both of my hands up and holds both of them with one of his, above my head. He growls, “What the…”

  I scream at him. “Let me go! How dare you make fun of me! I don’t live out here on Bonanza! I don’t know what the hell a coyote is!

  “I’m sick of your cocky ass comments about how stupid I am about your damn ranch life.

  “Hello, look at me. Do I look like I belong out here? Hell no, I don’t! I belong back in L.A. where the cars have air conditioning and your face doesn’t melt off when you walk outside! Why the hell do you think I left Louisiana?!

  “I do not make out with dirty ass cowboys who take advantage of the fact that I’m hallucinating in the heat and manhandle me against a filthy truck while my tits leave wet spots like a damn map, with the sweat running down my back like a river, and my thighs chafe from tight ass denim that is suffocating my vagina and probably making me smell like week old fish!”

  Did I just yell at him about my tits and vagina and smelling like rotten fish?!

  This freaking heat is legitimately making me crazy!

  Or maybe it’s just this stupidly sexy and exasperating man that’s making me a goddammed lunatic.

  Falcon

  Miss Fancy Pants is still trying to hit and kick me. I told her not to try to hit me again.

  Why is this damn woman always trying to hit me? No women has EVER tried to hit me before… well, other than momma when my ass needed a good wallop growing up. But, I deserved those.

  She just screamed at me about her entire body in words that I am not used to hearing from women. Did she just say that she probably smells like fish?!

  She sounds like someone who has lost her shit… I think the heat is too much for her.

  Grabbing her, I pick her up and sling her over my shoulder. Her fists ball up and she hits me on the back repeatedly. “You, son of a bitch! What is wrong with you? Put me down!”

  Ignoring her, I pop her ass once, hard, and growl, “I told you what would happen if you hit me again!”

  She screams into my back, “How dare you hit me! Don’t you dare! You rat bastard!”

  I stalk to the truck and open the door, resisting the urge to really pop her while her breasts are crushed against my shoulder.

  Leaning down, I drop her onto the set. She bounces and glares at me as she scoots back, all the way to the other door. Pointing at it, I growl, “Roll that up.” Turning the key, I start the engine and crank up the air.

  She shoots an accusatory look at me and screeches, “You said the air didn’t work!”

  Shaking my head, I lean my boot on the running board of the truck while I rest my hands on the steering wheel and bend to look at her. “I did not. I said no such thing. I said that I rarely use the air. I never said I didn’t have air.”

  As I lean in the truck, I feel the air against my bare chest and realize that my shirt is still hanging wide open. Eliza is mighty rumpled looking herself as she sits bolt upright on the seat and watches me warily. Her hat is gone. It must still be in the back of the truck and her hair is a tangled mess of waves that are everywhere. Her cheeks and chest are flushed from the heat outside, her shock at my popping her ass and hanging upside down over my shoulder, and maybe from our heated kiss from earlier. Her shirt is skewed at the neckline and pulled to the side, showing the creamy swell of her heaving left breast. My eyes lower and take in the untucked shirt and how it’s gathered around her waist, showing some of her stomach, and the button of her jeans.

  She looks like she just rolled out of bed and it’s sexy as hell.

  She just screamed something about not looking like she fits in around here but the woman I’m currently looking at in the cab of my truck looks exactly like a woman who could fit right in here.

  Stop that.

  You kissed the woman and felt her up. A match made in heaven that does not make, Falcon.

  Hell, she hits you all the time and has a tongue sharp enough to cut a diamond.

  But, damned if I’m not enjoying every minute of this…

  Eliza is still frowning and looking at me like she doesn’t trust me, but she sighs as the coolness of the air passes over her hot face. She leans down and opens the neckline of her shirt to allow some of the air to reach her chest.

  My groin pulls as I shamelessly watch her. I groan under my breath. Finally, she turns to me and cockily says. “Aren’t you supposed to be watching for coyotes instead of staring at my fantastic chest?” She cups her breasts, drawing my gaze downward again.

  With a nod I stand, but I lean back into the truck, while adjusting myself, to say. “The only coyotes in these parts aren’t out there, darlin’. You just screamed a whole lot of stuff at me. We’re going to address that… Besides… I already told you that we were coming back to what happened against my truck.” Her eyes widen and she sucks her lip into her mouth as she watches me button my shirt back up. Staring into her eyes, I make my chest muscles jump and grin. “But first… why don’t you take a second to cool your tits then get your snarky, yet sexy, ass out here to help me fix this fence. We can get it done pretty quickly by working together and I’ll need to cut the engine again while we wait for the coyotes. After that, we’ll drive a bit more of this fence and after lunch, I’ll take you to one of my favorite spots out here. It’s a hot day and it’s a great place to cool off… It’s also a hell of a place to have some conversation and quiet time…”

  Not that quiet time will be on the agenda if that kiss we shared is any indication. I meant what I said… Miss Eliza McCormick and I have some things to discuss and some things to possibly finish…

  With a whistle and one last look, I head to the fence to line up the boards I need to nail up.

  Chapter Nine

  Eliza

  True to his word, Falcon took out both of the coyotes as they raced into view. And they did just look like mangy, wild dogs.

  It took us about twenty minutes to fix the fence. Falcon hummed some country song while he held huge nails in his mouth. He hammered them into the boards that I held in place and neither of us talked whi
le we worked. I kept sneaking glances at him and the sense that I was missing something kept nagging at me. Once or twice, he’d look down at me and catch me looking at him. He’d give me a smile that melted my insides and his eyes would crinkle beneath the brim of his hat.

  After that, he radioed back to Duke with the location of the coyotes bodies and instructed someone to come pick them up. He laughed at my face, which must have been full of disgust, and said that he figured having someone come get them was better than having me load them into the back of the truck with him to be disposed of.

  I gagged and he laughed harder. He nodded, “See. I’m being a gentleman.”

  I managed to ask why he needed to get the bodies at all. And, he said, “We can’t just leave them out in the open to decompose. This is a pasture for the cattle. Decaying bodies can carry disease and it invites other predators. We dispose of all of the carcasses the same way out here…”

  I didn’t have the stomach to ask what that meant. But, he informed me that they incinerated them all.

  We drove about three more miles of fence and found no problems. As he drove, we talked. I used the time to interview him, though it was more like a conversation and I found myself genuinely interested.

  I asked him how often they checked the fences and he said they checked them every week to make certain there were no breaches, no sections had been damaged during the week, or it was just time for them to be replaced.

  He also told me that they moved the cattle from one pasture to another every two weeks to prevent the land from being over grazed. He mentioned that they were moving one of the herds again in two days and that it took several days and about twenty ranch hands to do it.

  I asked how many herds they had and all sorts of other questions that I could use for my story and he answered every one. His voice was strong and proud as he talked about it. His love for the ranch and the hard work running a spread this large took was evident.

  We stopped for lunch and he removed the basket he brought out of the house with my hat from the backseat of truck. After directing me to sit on the grass in the shade of the truck, he unloaded the basket and we gorged on thick sandwiches, oranges, carrot sticks, and even hand-held apple pie. A thermos of iced tea, that was somehow still cold, and a thermos of water finished off our lunch.

  I was shocked at how hungry I was. I never eat like this, but I put it all away like I’d never had a meal before in my life and then we packed everything up and headed back out to check the rest of the fence.

  He glances over at me as we reach the edge of the quadrant he said we were checking today. “How about a break from the heat?”

  God, yes!

  Please!

  I probably smell like a gym rat. I can’t smell myself, and I don’t want to, but I can imagine that the deodorant I applied this morning is long gone.

  Note to self… deodorize the tits and not just the pits. Time to apply deodorant to the under boobs every day, too! I have lakes under my tits.

  It’s so gross feeling.

  I only nod at Falcon. “Sure. Is there an air conditioned cabin out here with ice cold showers I can drown myself in?”

  He chuckles. “Sure, darlin’. Something like that. Only, it’s all natural and courtesy of Mother Nature.”

  Huh? Courtesy of Mother Nature?

  What does that mean?

  My brow wrinkles as I ask, “What do you mean? Where are we going?”

  Falcon grins and simply says, “You’ll see…”

  “No, tell me. Where are we going? You’re not taking us back to the house so I can take an hour long shower?!” I ask, but he remains steadfast and only smiles at me before looking back out of the windshield. He reaches out and turns up the radio. Country fills the cab and he sings along with the song. His voice is nice… it causes a reaction.

  Shit… What DOESN’T cause a damn reaction when it comes to Falcon Donovan?! Good or bad, he’s a pro at pulling emotions out of me.

  Suddenly, my head connects the pieces of the puzzle and I whirl on the seat to stare at him. My eyes travel over the planes of his face and I go over everything everyone has said since we arrived here. Something from the meeting at the studio jumps to the forefront and I gasp.

  Falcon glances over at me with a frown. “What’s wrong? Eliza are you ok?”

  “Tanzy… Your fiancée was Tanzy Klossman… the actress…” The truck stops suddenly and I jerk forward on the seat. He turns to me and I see him nod. His lips are tight. “Falcon Donovan…” I slap my knee and mutter out loud, “How stupid of me… I knew something was familiar…” My eyes travel over his face. He does not look happy. “You were a model…”

  He exhales and his hands tighten on the steering wheel. He stares at me. “Yes, I was… And yes, that’s right. I was a model and I was engaged to Tanzy Klossman…

  “That was a lifetime ago and now I’m just Falcon Donovan, part owner of the Double Down Ranch and filthy cowboy.”

  He was an International Model… He was everywhere. His photo was in magazines… on billboards… on the side of buses… and now… he’s a rancher.

  I vaguely remember the scandal. He was engaged to Tanzy Klossman, America’s then sweetheart, until she was caught having an affair with her very married, much older, co-star. She got pregnant for the actor while filming the movie… Her fiancée, Falcon, left her and left modeling… and then she left the actor after dragging them both through the tabloids with how ugly his divorce was. Now she’s always in and out of relationships with this co-star or that one. She’s also horrid to her baby daddy and constantly using the child against him.

  Wow… Falcon was engaged to HER?!

  He’s wrong though… Yesterday, he was a filthy cowboy that tied me up in knots. But today, after spending the day with him and hearing him talk about this place… his life… his love for this life… no, he’s so much more than that.

  And… I’m fucked.

  Because, I’m far too interested in everything Falcon Donovan… and I can’t lie to myself by saying I’m not.

  I nod. “Well, ok then… that’s your story.”

  His lips flatten again, “I’m assuming that information will make its way into your piece…”

  Yesterday, it might have. But today, no… no, it won’t. This piece is not about gossip… And if I’m remembering correctly, none of what happened was your fault in the slightest.

  Tanzy Klossman is a semi-talented, gold-digging whore who is always looking for her next meal ticket.

  That is not what I’m interested in. TMZ can handle that shit.

  Staring at him, I smirk. “You know what they say about assumptions right, Cowboy….” I laugh. “I thought you were taking me somewhere to cool off. Sitting in this stopped truck is doing the opposite of that shit. I’m baking here and my under boobs are screaming for some relief from this damn heat.”

  His brow raises and he cocks his head at me. “Did you just call me an ass, darlin’?”

  I nod, “If the ten gallon hat fits…” I point. “Drive on to wherever you’re going. I’m melting and the Wicked Witch of the West is not a good look for me.”

  Falcon

  Eliza knows who I am. She knows who Tanzy is. I knew she’d find out and I’m surprised that it took her this long to figure it out.

  She also just said that I shouldn’t assume she was going to use that information in her segment. In fact, she just called me an ass for assuming that at all.

  To say I’m shocked is a bit of an understatement. I laugh. “My hat is hardly ten-gallon.” I point at her head, also decorated by the tan hat. “Besides, you’re wearing one, too.”

  She grins at me and mutters, “Well, yeah, I guess I am…”

  Putting my truck back in drive, I chuckle and continue on toward the spot I want to show her.

  I drive for about half an hour and the truck bounces and jerks as we cross the uneven ground. Eliza groans, “No one told me there were no roads out here. I feel like my ass needs extra
padding for this ride. In fact, Duke told me that you usually do everything on horseback. Yet, I haven’t seen a horse yet.”

  Is she really discussing her ass with me?

  At what point did we reach this level of conversation!?

  I mutter, “Eliza, are you really talking about your ass right now?”

  She turns to grin at me and it’s so saucy that my foot lifts from the gas. The truck jerks and she laughs. “Let’s see, Falcon… We have made out against your truck where you touched the top of my ass. You slung me over your shoulder and slapped my ass while threatening to spank the hell out of me. And numerous times today, I’ve caught you looking at my derriere… So yes, we are in fact talking about my ass and the fact that your ranch is determined to bruise me!”

  Tossing my head back, I laugh. It’s loud and rich.

  But, if we’re comparing notes, darlin’.

  Leaning my elbow against the window, I nod my head. “Can we discuss you ogling my ass first thing this morning?! Or the times today that I’ve caught you salivating over my ass?!”

  Her lips twist and she shrugs. “What? You have a mighty fine ass, Falcon Donovan. The way it fills out those jeans of yours…” She smacks her lips and winks. “Where do you find those? Are they custom made? I mean there is no way that you just grab a pair off the shelf at a store and they fit like that. It’s impossible.”

  She’s sucking on her lip and flirting with me.

  She’s playing with fire and I’m about to show her just what it’s like to be burned.

  Thank God that the spot I’m heading to shows up just then. Before I can tell her to look, she catches sight of it and gasps. She leans forward on the seat as I drive to the secret oasis.

  Pulling under the shade of the trees, I park and just look ahead. The river is shallow here, perfect for wading and even swimming. It cuts through the ranch and is a wonderful natural water source.