Opposites Attract

Copyright © Talia Carmichael 2013. All Rights Reserved, Total-E-Ntwined Limited, T/A Totally Bound Publishing. "As usual, your mouth is what got you into trouble," HC Wagner said to himself, grinning widely. His mouth tended to get him into sticky situations, but then again, many of them turned out to be fun. This time wasn't one of the fun times. He sobered and stared at the closed door of the ranch house. HC didn't want to do what he knew he must, but he wouldn't shirk on it. He rolled his shoulders and took a deep breath, then lifted his hand and knocked. He made it hard and loud, just to aggravate the occupant of the house. HC knew he had to apologise, but he didn't have to make it nice and could add this to the count he was keeping of ways to piss off the man inside. The door was yanked open and the man in the doorway looked at him and immediately scowled. Hmmm...a new record for his scowling at me. HC slid his hands into the pockets of his jeans and rocked back on his heels, smiling widely. "Stop pounding on my door like you live here." Drake Finley, MGR Ranch foreman, used that calm, level-headed tone that set HC's teeth on edge. "If I lived here, I wouldn't have to knock, I'd have a key." HC blinked slowly and exaggeratedly. "Unless you're asking me to move in. In that case. This is so...sudden." Drake's frown deepened. "You're such a..." HC's smile widened as Drake trailed off. Score one for HC. Drake didn't like to swear and it was fun to see how far he could push him. It was a goal of his to make the cowboy curse. It was perverse but, from their first meeting, Drake had seemed to hate HC on sight. Since that was the tone set, HC followed his lead and whenever he was around Drake—he went out of his way to aggravate him. Drake rubbed his fingers through his hair. At the gesture, HC's breath caught. Why does he have to be so attractive? HC studied the cowboy. His short, slightly curly, auburn hair always had a carelessly messy look that gave Drake a sexy, tousled appearance many would pay to achieve. His hair framed a tanned, classically handsome face and his green eyes seemed not to miss anything. It was his face that had captured HC's attention when he'd first seen Drake a little over a year ago. Drake, with his unfathomable expression, was a puzzle HC really wanted to figure out. It was baffling, since Drake wasn't even his type. HC preferred men who were shorter and leaner, but HC and Drake were the same height and although Drake was lanky, it was all muscle from working hard on the ranch. HC also preferred people he was interested in to like him and enjoy his company, instead of running in the other direction whenever they saw him. "Come on, you know you want to say it," he taunted. "You have enough of a potty mouth for us both." Although his tone was again calm, Drake's gruff voice reminded HC of one confrontation when Drake had got in his face. HC went hard at the thought. Drake's eyes had flashed and his nostrils had flared. The emotion Drake had shown—instead of that cold exterior he normally presented to HC—was even more intoxicating. Drake had almost sworn, calling him a 'dang ass'. In HC's view, 'dang ass' didn't really count as swearing. HC still couldn't decide which version of Drake he preferred—calm or showing irritation. He looked at Drake's mouth then decided maybe it didn't matter which. Those firm but soft-looking lips fascinated him and HC had imagined many times how Drake would taste. In the next moment, HC snapped out of it, knowing it would never happen—it was stupid to torture himself over wanting a man who couldn't stand the sight of him and who wasn't even gay. From a distance he'd seen Drake often enough...