Aidan: Loyal Cowboy. Cathy McdavidЧитать онлайн книгу.
For several hours his passion had burned brightly. Beautifully. Flynn had never been loved so intensely, so thoroughly. She’d told herself he must have genuine feelings for her, even if he didn’t acknowledge them.
Reality, unfortunately, had returned when the sun crested the horizon, its soft rays breaching the blinds of Flynn’s bedroom and vanquishing the cozy cocoon of night. Ace couldn’t get dressed fast enough or leave in a bigger hurry. He’d had horses to check at home. A morning surgery scheduled. Then there was the meeting at the bank.
Legitimate excuses, but why hadn’t he been able to look her in the face when he gave them? Or do more than kiss her forehead before escaping through the back door, sock-footed and boots in hand?
Because he hadn’t wanted to stay with her or make a commitment.
Flynn had heard it all before. From her ex-husband and now Ace. The two men were peas in a pod. Both married to their jobs, both using their jobs as an excuse not to spend time with her.
Damn her foolish heart for always picking the wrong kind of man.
She should walk away from Ace, leave him the way he’d left her.
Instead, she stayed, his expression rooting her in place. If she wasn’t still angry at him, she might have been swayed by the regret brimming in his incredibly dark brown eyes.
“Can we talk?” he asked. “I’d like to explain.”
“This I have to hear.”
“Not now, not here.” He glanced over his shoulder at the people milling nearby. “Later. Somewhere less crowded.”
That was exactly what had gotten her into bed with him, his suggestion they leave the Number 1 Diner and go somewhere more private to continue their conversation.
Flynn rediscovered the confidence she’d lost upon first spotting Ace. “No, I don’t think so.”
“You have every right to be angry with me,” he began slowly.
She cut him off. “Do you not own a calendar? You’ve had better than three weeks to explain. I’m either working at the emergency clinic or helping Dad with the horses. Finding me isn’t a problem. Heck, I live next door to you.”
“I’m a jerk.”
His admission didn’t soften her resolve. He’d wounded her when he hurried off that morning. Hurt her worse when he didn’t call or come see her.
And she’d have walked barefoot across broken glass before calling him. Been there, done that—back when they’d dated briefly in college.
“Aidan!” his mother hollered. “We’re heading over to inspect the mares and geldings.” She waved and smiled at Flynn. “Don’t be a stranger. Come to lunch the next time Dinah’s over.”
Flynn waved in return. “Thanks.” Her father and Ace’s father might not have liked each other, but Sarah Hart had always treated Flynn like a second daughter.
And Ace had treated her like another little sister.
A four-year age difference hadn’t helped. Not until she was in community college and he in vet school did he finally notice her as someone other than his sister Dinah’s school chum.
They’d been careful in those days, keeping their relationship a secret in order to avoid their respective fathers’ wrath. It was anyone’s guess where things might have led if John Hart hadn’t died and Ace’s world hadn’t crumbled.
“I need to go,” he said.
“No one’s stopping you.”
It would be easier to hate him if he didn’t appear contrite and miserable.
She’d seen him steady a full-grown steer as it collapsed to the ground. Cushion the animal with his body in order to spare it injury.
How could a man so big and strong and capable be completely inept when it came to understanding women? No wonder he was still a bachelor.
Who was she to talk? She had one failed marriage behind her. A marriage that was, in all probability, a rebound from Ace.
“Flynn…” He reached for her.
“Forget it.” She started toward the horse pens where her father waited, then hesitated. Squaring her shoulders, she turned and faced Ace. “You made a big mistake three weeks ago. You walked out on the best thing to happen to you in a long time.”
She expected him to blush and falter and possibly be at a loss for words. That happened to him on occasion.
Today, he surprised her.
He met her stare head-on and said without missing a beat, “You’re right.”
Then why? her mind cried out.
When he said nothing else, she left, sniffing in an attempt to hold back her tears. She’d given him an opening, a chance to say he wanted to see her again, and he’d refused it.
When would she learn?
She’d come home to Roundup following her divorce, in large part because of Ace and the possibility that they could pick up where they’d left off.
Except they hadn’t—a one-night stand years later didn’t count—and, after today, it didn’t appear as though they ever would.
Chapter Two
“Last up, folks, is the horse you’ve all been waiting for, The Midnight Express.” Loud speakers mounted from poles on either side of the ring gave the auctioneer’s voice a tinny and abrasive quality. “This here stud’s lineage goes all the way back to the great hall-of-fame bucking horse Five Minutes to Midnight. He’s won Bucking Horse of the Year twice, competed at the National Finals Rodeo a total of five times and has sired over sixty offspring, seven of which are actively competing on the rodeo circuit and doing well for their owners.”
Flynn sat with her father in the aluminum bleachers, listening to the auctioneer recite Midnight’s selling points. The horse himself, however, had yet to make an appearance in the ring.
She fingered the flyer in her hand as they waited. Murmurings as to the reason for the holdup traveled through the crowd like a signal zipping along a cable. Her father’s boot beat an agitated tattoo on the bleacher floor. He’d shown some interest in a few of the other bucking horses up for sale but let them all go to other bidders.
Ace was the new owner of ten, mostly mares. He and his family sat not far from Flynn, down a couple of rows and one section over. She’d noticed him glancing in her direction now and again, had noticed because her glance was constantly straying to him.
Enough already, she chided herself. He’s not worth it.
And yet, her insides insisted on fluttering.
“What’s taking so dang long?” her father complained to no one in particular.
“Are you going to bid on him?”
“Yep.”
“A stud horse, Dad? What happened to retiring?”
“I wouldn’t retire if I owned that horse.”
He’d been going back and forth for months now. Flynn had, too.
If her father got out of the business and moved to Billings to be near her sister, what would she do?
She regularly helped with his bulls and string of bucking stock and had since she was a young girl. After earning her associate’s degree in business administration, she also assisted him with the office work during evenings and weekends. Monday through Friday, she worked as an administrator at the Roundup Emergency Care Clinic. Pushing papers was her forte, if not her passion.
Once, she’d aspired to work in management for a large corporation. Except she hadn’t been able