The Cowboy Way Ch. 02

Ryley placed his hat in his head, the first movement he had made since entering the room and the man in the suit turned in a moment of panic. His eyes met Ryley's and in that moment Ryley got the sense he had just spoiled something for the man.

"Ryley," Britney said. "Come on in. I'd like you to meet my agent, Kyle McLeod."

Ryley stepped down into the living room and crossed the carpet as Kyle stood up to greet him. He extended his hand and Ryley took it, noticing that the man's hand had the feel of someone who spent too much time in the gym, strong yet soft.

"So you must be the cowboy everyone's been going on about," he said, his voice smooth, and ice cold.

Ryley nodded as he felt Kyle try to squeeze his hand a little harder than he should have. Already disliking him, Ryley squeezed right back and saw a moment of panic in Kyle's eyes.

"Yeah, that's me," Ryley replied.

Kyle released his hand and stepped back. "Jesus, Britney he's the real deal. A man of few words and everything."

Britney smiled. "Yes he is. I took him shopping yesterday, freshened him up a bit. He forgot to pack when he made the trip, so . . ."

Kyle nodded. "Right, so anyway Britney. I've got about four companies at the bargaining table now and they're in a bidding war over you. You should hear the offers coming in; they're incredible. But they all have one stipulation."

Ryley leaned against the wall next to the double French doors that opened onto the porch. "And what's that?" he asked.

Kyle smirked. "They want you, too."

"What?" Britney asked. "What do you mean?"

"Well, apparently they think he's the one responsible for your zooming popularity. The public wants to see you with the rebel and so do the companies."

"That's bullshit," Ryley scoffed. "I'm not responsible for anything. Britney's the one that's the singer, not me."

Kyle smirked. "You're right, but now the public wants to see you with her, on the stages in some kind of skit or something . . . who knows? But the point is that means lots of money for us. For all of us!"

* * * * *

"No, Kyle," Britney said. "I'm not selling my private life to anyone. And I am not going to sell Ryley. He's mine, not the public's."

"Thank you, Britney," Ryley said with a laugh, surprised and turned on by how possessive she was acting.

She smiled sweetly at him. "You're welcome."

Kyle frowned, his eyes going cold, all pleasantness gone from his face. "Well, Britney I'm going back to the table with these companies. I'd like you to reconsider all of this. Like I said, it would mean a lot of money for all of us."

__________

Ryley sat on the couch, his mind racing as he lazily flipped through the channels on the television in Britney's basement entertainment room. He was bored. He couldn't stand sitting around, doing nothing in a place like this. He was used to the open road, the mountains and more importantly the racetracks.

It wasn't like he wasn't happy, just the opposite in fact. Britney was an extreme turn on, no matter what she was doing or wearing. She could excite him just by breathing, or yawning or reading a book. God he had almost thrown on the ground before when she put on a pair of glasses and began reading a novel.

But all the same, Ryley's blood was beginning to run hot from sitting so long. He needed something to do, a fight to win or a horse to ride or a car to race, but he knew that would never happen again. As if to answer his prayers, Britney sauntered into the room, wearing hip hugging jeans and a baby blue T-shirt.

She slid onto his lap and moved her body against his and pushed her tongue into his mouth. Ryley responded with fervor; pulling her body against his and cupping her breast through her T-shirt. She groaned and leaned back, looking into his eyes.

"What's wrong, Ryley?" she asked, her deep brown eyes searching his.

He shrugged. "Nothing."

She smiled. "I know there's something wrong now."

He laughed. "My Mom used to say that."

Britney frowned. "It's not me is it?" she asked, beginning to slide off his lap
* * * * *

Ryley grabbed her waist, pulling her back to him and she straddled his waist, sitting on his thighs. He held her face in his hands and kissed her, softly.

"No, Britney. No matter what you may think is wrong at any point in time I can guarantee you it is not you," he said, emphasizing his last few words.

"Then what?" she asked, leaning her head against his chest.

He sighed. "I don't know. I'm not used to this place. I'm used to . . .well, being out. Being in the world, and not this world."

"What's wrong with this world?" she asked, tracing figures on his chest with her finger.

"It's not real. I mean for God's sake, who was that asshole this morning? Kyle whatever the fuck his name is? Is he nuts? The record companies want you, but with me on the side, what the hell is that? I'm not a god damn musician, I mean I can play a pretty mean harmonica."

Britney laughed and hugged Ryley tighter.

"But seriously is for real?"

She sighed. "Ryley, I'll tell you the truth. When I first got into this business Kyle picked me up right away. My demos weren't going over well at first and Kyle threatened to leave me in the cold, unless . . ." Britney said, trailing off at the end, mumbling something Ryley couldn't hear.

"What?" he asked.

She didn't respond at first, so he lifted her chin with his finger so he could look her in the eye.

"Unless what?" he asked again.

Britney looked down for a moment, than back up at Ryley. "Unless I . . . you know. Performed sexual favors for him."

Ryley took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. "He made you have sex with him?"

"Well, he didn't really make me. I didn't want to, but if I didn't I wouldn't have a chance," she said, moisture beginning to form in her eyes.

* * * * *

Ryley watched her blink repeatedly to clear her vision and saw tear roll slowly down her cheek. He folded her into his arms, gently and rocked her slowly. She snuggled up against him and he could tell she was crying.

"Ryley," Britney said, softly. "You really did save me, you know. Not just from those guys at the stream but from that record company. They made me. They controlled everything I did. I don't know why I let them do it, I just wanted to sing and be famous, go around the world, you know? And they promised me that.

"I let them do it for so long, I'm not even sure who I am anymore," she said, breaking down and sobbing.

Ryley's cold blue eyes blazed with rage. How could anyone be so heartless, he thought. But he wasn't amazed. He had seen it constantly with the young country singers he had met that were coming out of Nashville when he was a NASCAR driver. Historically the Winston Cup Series had gone hand in hand with country music and because of that he had seen the youngsters come onto the scene, pure as a fresh fallen snow, and then go out on their ass looking as dirty as the snow alongside the road did after a few days of plowing and salting.

Well as long as he was going to be around her, Britney wouldn't be snuffed out like that. He owed it to her as much as himself to help her remember who she was and where she had come from. He just had to figure out how.

"Britney," he said, softly.

She looked up at him, tears on her cheeks. He smiled at her and wiped the tears from her face.

"I promise you," Ryley said. "We will get you past this, and make it how it should be. You'll get beyond all this, and you'll be better than you ever were."

She smiled. "Thanks, Ryley," she whispered, then leaned in and kissed him, this time out of pure heart felt love.

- Next chapter – Ryley takes Britney out to buy a real car and conquers some of his ghosts-