Page 3 of All Grown Up at Mountain Creek Ranch
LANDON
I watch her drive off until the taillights have disappeared in the inky black night before turning around and heading back into the barn. Jameson is standing where I left him, watching Greta.
"Don't start with me, man," he says, not looking up at me. "It's late, and I'm not in the mood to get another lecture from you."
"I don't care what you want. I told you that you needed to be available to help with Greta when she went into labor, but you were nowhere to be found as usual. When are you going to get it in your head that people depend on you? But you can’t be bothered to think about anyone but yourself.”
Jameson turns to me. “Please, you should be thanking me.”
"Thanking you? Because of you, we have a vet bill we can't afford right now."
“I’ll pay for it.”
“You’re damn right you’re going to pay for it.”
“I don’t know why you’re so pissed.” He points at the barn door. “You didn’t seem too upset about the new doc that showed up. I saw the way you were looking at her. Need I remind you about what an asshole you used to be to her?”
I cringe. "We aren't talking about me."
"Just because you live and breathe this place doesn't mean that the rest of us want to do this for the rest of our lives.”
I’m not surprised to hear Jameson say this, but I can’t say it doesn’t hurt. Jameson was never one for a rancher’s life. I keep waiting for the day that he finally finds some purpose in his life and leaves.
I've never said it out loud, but I think that blowing out my knee was the best thing that could have happened to me. The party life I was living in college sent me down a path that I didn't like who I was becoming. I know I was a cocky jock in high school, but the ego I got in college was a whole new level.
After I blew out my knee, I lost my scholarship, and my grades alone weren't enough to keep me in school. I came home, and my dad put me to work. At first, I resented it. But eventually, I grew to love it. The responsibility that was thrust on me to take more of a leadership role on the ranch after mom started to get sick and dad needed to focus on caring for her forced me to grow up. I’d hoped that I could push Jameson to do the same, but I’m not sure anything will ever force him to grow up.
“Look,” he continues when I don’t say anything. “It’s late. You should go and get a couple of hours of sleep. I’ll stay here and keep an eye out on these two.”
I nod, not wanting to fight anymore. I head out to the old hunting cabin on the property that I fixed up last year. It's not much, but it's perfect for me. My thoughts drift back to Delaney as I shower before bed. Jameson was right. I was an asshole to her in high school, but then again, I was an asshole to almost everyone—no wonder she couldn't get away from me fast enough. I wish there were some way to tell her that I'm not the same guy I used to be.
My cock stiffens as I think about her. Not only is she smart, capable, and beautiful in an unassuming way, but her curves have every cell in my body singing for her. I grip the shaft of my cock and run my hand up and down for some relief. I close my eyes, letting the hot water cascade down my hard body, thinking about what it would be like to press her against the wall of the barn, her long legs wrapped around my waist as I drive into her until she screams my name with her release.
“Fuck,” I groan, finding my own release at the thought of her coming on my cock. I rest my forehead against the tiled wall and stand there until the water begins to cool, and I have to get out.
My body is still humming from the orgasm when I get into bed. If I can feel this way with only my hand and my imagination, I can only imagine what it could be like with her for real.
“She’s never going to look at you that way,” I say out loud to myself in the darkness.
She might if you show her you’ve grown up. The thought fills my mind as my eyelids get heavier. She’s coming back tomorrow. I’ll need to think of something to show her to prove I’m not the guy she thinks I am.
3
DELANEY
“You did what?” my father shouts over his coffee cup the next morning.
I'd just told him about getting the call to go out to Mountain Creek Ranch last night and dealing with the breech birth. Everything went smoothly, so I didn't think he'd freak out—this much.
I was wrong.
“I don’t understand what the problem is. Am I not a member of this practice?”
“Mypractice. I’m the one who spent years building a reputation in this community. You should have woken me and let me make the decision.”
“What would you have said if I did?”
“I would have told you that you aren’t ready yet.”
