Tante Lulu just grinned. “Thass my girl!”
And then he got mad…
Raoul rode his horse hard, till he and Dark Star were both saturated with sweat. Only then, out of concern for the animal, did he head back to the barn.
A series of emotions roiled through him as he walked the horse dry in the main aisle of the barn, then proceeded to brush him down. A quick survey of the barn showed that the three horses used by Clarence, Linc, and Jimmy were still gone. Thank God for small favors.
He took extra special care in grooming the horse. It was as close as he got to ministering to animals these days. God, how he missed being a vet! And now this mess with Charmaine!
He wasn’t a guy who liked to analyze his feelings. Most men didn’t. They put it up there with other unfavorite things like shopping and plucking their eyebrows. But he was analyzing now, and he was not a happy camper.
First, he was hurt. Profoundly hurt. By both his father and Charmaine. His father had taken so many actions over the years, manipulated him in a sense, without his knowledge. Why had he felt the need to protect him so? Had he considered him a weakling who couldn’t handle the stress? At the very least, why had he never told him that he cared?
But his father wasn’t around to answer his questions or be punished for his omissions or his orneriness. Charmaine was.
Mon Dieu, she complained all the time about his considering her a brainless bimbo. Well, tit for tat was apparently her modus operandi because he sure felt like a male bimbo… a bimbob, or bimbo, or whatever the hell they called it. Too dumb to live and handle the problems life dealt him. Talk about!
The second emotion to sucker punch Raoul was anger. Blood boiling, punch-the-walls, I-could-scream-with-rage anger. How dare she make decisions on his behalf? How dare she omit telling him life-altering news? She was not his mother or his guardian. She’d been his wife, and he’d trusted her. No more!
Determination became his primary focus now. If he’d been wavering over a renewed relationship with Charmaine, that foolhardy notion fizzled out like foam on day-old beer. The sooner they got divorced and she moved out of his life, the better.
In the meantime, he was going to make her so sorry, and she better not come waving that sweet ass in his face, either. Or her tempting breasts. Or her kiss-some lips. Nope, he was immune.
An odd thing happened then. He could swear he heard the horse laugh at him. But maybe it was St. Jude.
It wasn’t me. Although I do think you’re a horse’s ass.
Aaarrgh!
Misery loves company… depending on the company…
Rusty was behaving like a real horse’s ass.
And Charmaine was so miserable she could cry… or die.
He didn’t show up for supper last night or for breakfast this morning. How was she supposed to torment him with her new push-up bra that promised a “voluptuous cleavage” if he never got to see it? How was she supposed to flaunt herself in front of him, making him sorry he would never have her? How was she supposed to ignore him if he wasn’t there to ignore?
Clarence and Linc had arrived for both meals with their hair slicked back off their faces, reeking of Old Spice and wearing jeans so tight they could barely sit at the table. Jimmy couldn’t stop himself from snickering.
“You look mighty fine again today,” Tante Lulu told Clarence and Linc.
“You look like dorks,” Jimmy disagreed.
Tante Lulu swatted him with a dish towel and cautioned, “Hush!”
“Thank you kindly, ma’am,” Linc said.
“Any chance we look a little bit hunky?” Clarence asked with a flushed face. Charmaine noticed that he didn’t have a plug in his cheek today. That was one thing to be thankful for.
“You mean like a Polish fellow?” Tante Lulu frowned with confusion.
“No, not like a Polish fellow,” Clarence snapped. Then he softened in tone and explained, “Like that Diet Pepsi guy on the television… or those cover models on romance novels. Oh, not young like them, but… you know… virile.”