Kitty
Madden spends the whole of the next two days out on the fields with Kaleb, whilst my body grows more and more agitated. Knowing now that I need to stay in Kaleb’s good books so that I can use his guitar at the Barn Bonanza, Madden’s been nothing short of angelic.
And whilst he’s growing puritanical, I’m on the cusp of requiring an exorcism.
Seeing as he doesn’t have long left at the ranch I’ve decided to take matters into my own hands, in an attempt to karate chop the little angel off of his shoulder.
Today has been so densely humid that a storm is almost definitely on the cards, and I’ve had to open each window up a crack to encourage some sort of air circulation. Also sensing the change in the weather, Kaleb brought the cattle back inside their shed earlier this evening and he’s spent the rest of his on-duty cowboy hours inspecting Madden’s handiwork on the barn, followed by showing him around the stables because he’s so darn impressed. If Madden wasn’t the guitarist in my brother’s band I don’t doubt for a second that Kaleb would ask Papa to hire him.
The one good thing about their guy-time induced absence is that it’s given me girl-time to prepare for my little stint.
Phase one: Eradicate Kaleb.
Phase two: Mesmerise Madden.
First I begin by having the world’s hottest shower. Purified by fire, I slip into a special something and then masquerade the whole set with an inconspicuous black hoodie. Fingers wiggling over the amenities crowded around the sink, I pick up Madden’s cologne, inhale it like a crack addict, and then spritz it over my jumper in the shape of a cross. Amen. I contemplate the bottle for another couple of seconds and then lift up the hem of my hoodie and spritz it under there too.
I chew back my smile. Let’s see if he notices.
Then I open my freshly purchased makeup bag – a dinky pink thing covered in heart-shaped lollipops – and pull out my vixen essentials. I
untwist my mascara, spooly leaving its tube with a suction-laden pop, and then I run it upwards over my lashes. I inspect the bottle whilst I hold my lashes in place, the label promising to make them longer and thicker.
Hopefully they won’t be the only things getting longer and thicker tonight.
Pleased with my look as the Arachnid Queen, I pat a powder-puff of pink blush at the apples of my cheeks and then compress a lightly shimmered lip balm over my lips. Then I drop my weapons back into the arsenal, zip it up, and survey my handiwork.
Honestly it looks like a five year old has been at my face. Fingers crossed Madden’s into the whole Crayola look.
My hair is usually pretty well behaved but since my frisson on the fourth it’s become so static that you’d think I’d been chewing electric wires. Maybe it’s the humidity, maybe it’s my hormones. Maybe it’s the chemicals that Madden secretes. Regardless, it’s totally fucked, so I don’t even bother running a brush through it.
Spritzed, glossed, and secretly dressed to dazzle I steal my stash back to my bedroom and then descend the stairs, my heart going double-time. When I reach the last step I peek around to see if they’ve come inside yet but, hearing no grunting and sensing no testosterone, I swish into the kitchen to busy myself, biding my time until Phase One can come into play. I drum my nails against the counter, contemplating my next move as I wait for my chance to kick Kaleb out. I pull open the fridge and scan the bounty. It really has never been so stocked up. My eyes fall to a punnet of
strawberries and a thought twitches in my brain.
Strawberries are aphrodisiacs, right? I pull the tub out of the fridge and twist my lips at them.
Sure, what the hell.
I break into the container, rinse the strawberries, and set them on a plate, before reaching into my candy stash and pulling out a bar of chocolate. I break it up into a bowl and then set it over the gas. As my chocolate breaks down its molecular structure I pat the berries dry.
I check on my cauldron again, giving the chocolate a whirl around in the pan, and then I take it off the heat, ready for my dipping.
Then the back door opens. Hello Phase One.
Kaleb miraculously left his cell in the living room this afternoon and I have been watching with joy as Chastity hounds his messages. At the bonfire the other night I may or may not have slipped in some good words to her and, behold, two days later she’s gussied herself up to take the bull by the horns. I try not to think too hard about the fact that the bull is my brother.
I lean down so that I can crouch into one of the bottom cupboards and when I come back out I pull a stocky bundle of sage with me. Remove my brother from this cabin, o herby bundle. I lightly torch the top with the gas and then I begin walking it like a witch around the cabin.
Kaleb takes it in.
“What the hell’s that?” he asks, gesturing to my flaming torch. Completely oblivious to my princess transformation. God bless brotherly indifference.
“Sage,” I say as I waft it past him, reaching up on my tip-toes so that I can purify all the nooks and crannies.
Brow furrowed, Kaleb makes a sceptical noise. Then, on an unfortunately deep inhale, he begins coughing up a lung.
“Jesus Christ!” he chokes out, face turning red.
I watch him with interest as I continue my cabin cleanse. “Put that out, Kit! I can’t fucking breathe.”
I slide my eyes over to him. “I bet you can’t, demon. That means it’s working.”
He gives me a growly look but, thinking about his Fender, I decide not to laugh.
“Your phone’s been going off by the way,” I say, giving him a nice big
hint-hint, nudge-nudge.
He’s still choking but now he’s preoccupied with his cell too. His eyes meet mine again briefly, probably wondering if I know who’s been messaging him, and then he clomps up the stairs, spluttering slightly as he locks himself in his room.
That went well.
I put out my little fire hazard and then go back to my strawberries, slipping one-handed into my cowgirl boots as I begin the dunking process.
When the backdoor sounds again I don’t move a muscle, although my ears are straining like a curious shrew. I pretend to be totally engrossed in my labour as large stomping footsteps make their way over to me.
Bonjour Phase Two.
Madden makes a low grunting sound in the back of his throat. I swirl a strawberry in the chocolate and then place it meticulously on my plate.
I feel the shift in the airflow as he checks up the banister to search for Kaleb, and then he takes another step closer, invading my chocolate strawberry bubble with his heavy boots and masculine scent. Oh Lord. My body grows woozy at his strong scent alone.
Too curious for my own good I glance through my lashes up at him. My heart flutters dangerously in my chest.
His stern eyes are burning a hole into me, and my cheeks are searing darker than any blush I could have applied. He’s assessing my sudden makeover and he doesn’t like the implications. When his gaze drops to my hoodie, cropped just beneath my ass, I’m convinced that it’s about to burst into flames. God knows I am.
“Going out?” he asks, voice rougher than sandpaper.
I almost snort. He thinks that I’ve got a date? After what we did the other day? I have to turn away from him so that my expression doesn’t belie my incredulousness. What kind of harlot does he think that I am?
“Nope,” I say, dunking another strawberry.
His breathing hitches slightly but he stands his ground. “Someone… someone coming over?”
I roll my eyes. Surely he can’t be so pessimistic as to think that he could lose me that quickly?
Sighing, I spin my strawberry by its stem, lifting it up so that the excess chocolate can drip away. “No Madden. I’m staying here. Alone. All night.”
He finally gets the hint. About freaking time.
He instantly positions his body at my rear, dipping his face into my neck as his hands caress my sides. He groans deeply when he inhales my scent.
“You used my cologne,” he rasps, rubbing his palms around my thighs. He kisses over the bruise on my neck and I squeeze my legs together, the sensation of his coarse hands against my soft skin too much to bear.
“I don’t want to wait any longer, princess,” he whispers, jeans grinding into my ass as he rubs himself against me. “But, fuck, Kaleb-”
“I’ve pulled some strings,” I whisper back to him, my fingers encasing his own as he palms me over my hoodie.
“What?” he asks, his voice barely decipherable as he kisses his way up my neck.
“The other night, around the campfire,” I say. “I started talking to that girl he likes, and I made some suggestions.”
Madden is no longer computing on the verbal scale, his body taking on an agenda of its own. He’s making up for his past few days of chaste demeanour, his hands suddenly desperate to cover every inch of me and his bucking hips ready to do the same.
Just as he starts grazing my ear my phone begins vibrating across the kitchen counter.
I glance at it curiously, more than willing to ignore it. Then I see the name on the screen.
“Shit!” I hiss, hands grappling for the device.
Madden, sighing, takes a step backwards and I spin around to face him as I fumble for the answer button. Madden adjusts his belt with his thick clumsy fingers, eyes half-mast and trained on my cowgirl boots.
I cross my legs quickly. He closes his eyes, looking pained. “Yes?” I answer breathlessly. “I mean, hello?”
There’s a pause on the other end of the line, then my Papa’s loud rumbling chuckle. I must have hit the speakerphone button out of habit when I was accepting the call.
“How’s my Pumpkin?” he asks cheerily. I cringe so deeply my belly cramps.
Madden’s eyes shoot to mine, suddenly very interested.
Pumpkin? he mouths at me, smiling with delight.
I frown and turn my back to him, clicking off the speakerphone button.
His arms wrap around my belly and he groans lazily into my hair.
Now my stomach’s fluttering for other reasons.
I scrunch up my face, determined to get through this conversation smoothly.
“I’m okay Papa.”
“Y’all have been AWOL on my cell. Everything running smoothly?”
I nod even though he can’t see me. “Everything’s perfect Papa. Is Mama there? I haven’t spoken to her in a while.”
There’s the crinkling sound of the cell phone being shared and then my mom’s voice comes through the speaker, more honeyed than a waffle.
“Hey Pumpkin. How’s things?”
I ignore her question. “Papa’s been sending me all your wins, mom.
Congratulations, you’ve done so good.”
I can hear her waving me off through the phone.
“That’s sweet of you, Pumpkin. We’ve been missing you over here.”
I twist my face because, although I’ve been missing them too, I’ve also been enjoying my newfound freedom. Well, freedom of sorts. Incarcerated freedom. At the behest of my brother.
“I miss you too,” I say quietly.
Madden presses a small kiss into the side of my neck.
“Don’t be gone too long,” I add, although I’m not sure who I’m talking to anymore.
Madden stills behind me for a second, and then he gives me a firm, comforting squeeze.
Mama laughs through the line and says knowingly, “Don’t you worry about a thing.”
She gives me a quick rundown on her recent successes and then, promising that I’ll pass their love on to Kaleb, we hang up a couple Pumpkins later.
When I put my cell back on the counter Madden grazes his teeth up my neck.
“I fucking love your nickname.”
I shake my head. “Don’t you dare tease me.”
He smiles against my cheek, stubble scraping at my skin. “Never,” he whispers, hands working their way back down my belly.
The sound of Kaleb’s door opening upstairs causes us to fling ourselves apart, Madden crashing backwards into a cupboard door that I’d left open and a chocolate-coated strawberry flying South across the kitchen.
I scuttle to collect it as Kaleb appears on the stairs.
He jerks his chin at Madden as if he hasn’t spent the entire day with him. “You okay if I dip tonight? Got plans.”
Even though I’m the mastermind behind Kaleb’s exit – special thanks to Chastity – my gears grate as he solely addresses Madden. As if this isn’t my house. As if I should have no say in the matter.
Madden glances over to me, sensing the sibling hostility. I give him a tiny nod and he nods to Kaleb in turn.
Kaleb leaves the cabin without further address, the slam of the front door a nice departing gift.
Then it’s just the two of us.
We wait until the Chevy revs to life and then Madden makes the first move. He walks slowly to the front door and bolts all of the locks, eyes on mine, looking for confirmation.
I glance over to the back door and he goes to bolt that one too.
Then he begins to silently close all of the curtains – the ones around the living room and finally the ones in the kitchen – and then, once the whole place is hidden and sealed, he stands himself in front of me, waiting for my signal.
So I give it to him.
