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MidReal Story
Restless
Scenario:Denzel Keene is a well known bull rider and has a bit of a reputation for being a playboy, sleeping around with women that includes other guy’s girlfriends and wives. He returns back home out in the country taking a break from Bull Riding to help his best friend (since they were kids) out on his families Horse Ranch. A few days after his return his best friend’s little sister has finished college to return home to help out on the ranch as well with her degree. Denzel is very attracted to her and she is to Denzel, but Denzel is doing his best to keep his distance out of respect for his best friend who is very overprotective of his sister but the more Denzel stays away the more he wants her and she doesn’t make it easy for him because she keeps pursuing him and working on the ranch with her doesn’t help. The question is how long can he stay away before he breaks?
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Denzel Keene
He is a bull rider who took a break from competing to help his best friend on his family's ranch. He is restless,attracted,and determined. Denzel returns home after a few months in the rodeo circuit,unable to resist the call to help his friend,Caleb. He's haunted by a nearfatal accident and struggles with his reputation as a womanizer. Despite his attraction to Emily,Caleb's sister,he vows to maintain boundaries due to their shared past and Caleb's protective nature.
Caleb
He is Denzel's best friend since childhood,who owns a ranch in the country. He is protective,reliable,and reserved. Caleb welcomes Denzel back to the ranch when he returns from the rodeo circuit. He's concerned about Denzel's wild lifestyle and keeps him at arm’s length due to his reputation. His sister Emily's presence complicates things further as Caleb is careful not to let anyone harm her,including his own brother.
Emily
She is Caleb's younger sister by 10 years,who recently graduated from college and returned to the ranch. She is independent,assertive,and alluring. Emily works on the ranch alongside Denzel and finds herself drawn to him despite knowing he's offlimits due to her brother's feelings. She challenges Denzel with her confidence and shares a complicated history with him that makes their interactions fraught with unspoken attraction and tension.
I took a deep breath and let my eyes close for a brief moment.
I’d been bull riding on the circuits for the last few months, and it had taken a toll on my body.
My back was killing me, and I was ready to take a break.
When Caleb called me and asked for my help with his family’s ranch out in the country, I couldn’t refuse.
I’d known him since we were kids and considered him my best friend.
Returning home was something I’d been looking forward to, so I jumped at the chance.
It had been a few days since I got back, and I was starting to get into the swing of things.
Caleb had been busy with other stuff, so I was holding down the fort until he could return to the ranch.
The only thing that made me restless was the fact that his little sister would be coming home today.
I knew she was finishing up at college and would come back to help out on the ranch as well.
I wasn’t looking forward to that at all.
I knew Caleb’s sister, Emily, was off-limits.
She was ten years younger than us and had always looked up to me and treated me like a big brother.
I headed out to check the perimeter fence, needing to clear my head.
The late afternoon sun beat down on me as I walked along the wooden posts.
I found a section that needed some repair near the east pasture and got to work.
I was hammering a loose board back into place when I heard the sound of gravel crunching under tires.
A pickup truck came into view, kicking up dust as it drove down the dirt road leading to the house.
I couldn’t see through the windshield because of all the dust, but I knew who it was.
My stomach tightened as the truck came to a stop nearby.
I gripped the hammer tighter in my hand and pretended to be engrossed in my work.
The driver’s side door opened, and I heard the sound of boots hitting the ground.
"Hey, stranger," Emily's voice called out, light and teasing.
I turned slowly, trying to keep my expression neutral.
"Emily," I nodded, "didn't expect you'd be back so soon."
I kept my eyes fixed on the fence post as she walked over to the truck bed and grabbed a toolbox.
She set it down beside me without a word, picking up a few spare nails and a hammer.
The silence between us was heavy as we worked, broken only by the rhythmic pounding of our hammers.
Every so often, her arm would brush against mine, sending unwanted sparks through me.
When she reached across me to grab more nails, her hair tickled my shoulder, and I had to step back.
She glanced up, catching my eye, but I quickly turned away and moved to the next post.
"Why are you avoiding me, Jake?" Emily asked, her voice soft but probing.
"I'm not avoiding you," I replied, focusing on the task at hand.
"Then why can't you look me in the eye?" she challenged, a hint of frustration creeping into her tone.
I could feel her stepping closer, invading my personal space.
The smell of her shampoo wafted through the air, making my heart race.
"I'm just focused on getting this done," I said weakly, trying to keep my voice steady.
She leaned in, deliberately reaching past me for another nail.
Her arm brushed against mine, sending a jolt of electricity through me.
I gripped the fence post tightly, my knuckles turning white.
She worked beside me, her movements slow and deliberate.
When she dropped a tool, she bent down right in front of me to pick it up, making my jaw clench.
We continued working in silence, the tension between us growing thicker with each passing minute.
Every accidental touch sent sparks through me, and I couldn't help but wonder if she was doing it on purpose.
Finally, when she grazed my arm again, I couldn't take it anymore.
"I need to check on the horses," I said abruptly, practically fleeing the scene.
I strode quickly toward the stables, my boots kicking up dust with each step.
The crunch of gravel behind me told me she wasn't letting this go.
I pushed open the stable door and stepped inside, the dim light enveloping me like a refuge.
I grabbed a brush from the hook on the wall and headed for the first stall.
The chestnut mare looked up at me as I entered, her large brown eyes curious.
I began to brush her coat mechanically, trying to put as much distance between Emily and myself as possible.
The stable door creaked open behind me, and I knew she had followed me in.
I kept my eyes fixed on the horse's coat, running the brush over it in smooth strokes while my heart hammered in my chest.
Emily's boots stopped right behind me, and I could feel her gaze on my back.
"Jake, you can't keep running away every time things get complicated," Emily said, her voice firm yet gentle.
I sighed, still brushing the mare, "It's not that simple, Emily."
She stepped closer, her tone softening, "Then help me understand, because I'm not going anywhere."
I set the brush down and gripped the wooden stall divider, steadying myself before turning around.
Emily was closer than I had expected, her boots only inches from mine on the hay-covered floor.
The stable's dim lighting cast shadows across her face, and she waited for me to speak.
My throat felt dry as I searched for the right words to explain why I couldn't act on the attraction between us.
When I opened my mouth to start, she stepped even closer, eliminating what little space remained between us.
The scent of her shampoo mixed with leather and horses made my head spin.
Emily's face fell at my words, but she held her ground in the cramped stable.
I gripped the stall divider harder, my knuckles white against the worn wood as she shifted even closer.
The mare behind me snorted and stamped, but I barely noticed.
Emily's fingers brushed against my forearm, leaving a trail of heat on my skin.
"How much time?" she asked softly.
I stared at a point over her shoulder, fighting the urge to close the tiny gap between us.
The stable door creaked open suddenly, and I jerked away from her touch.
Footsteps approached - heavy boots on packed dirt.
"Jake, we need to talk," a deep voice interrupted, and I recognized it instantly as my brother, Tom.
Emily stepped back, her eyes flicking between us, "I'll give you two a moment."
Tom's gaze was steady as he looked at me, "You can't keep avoiding this, Jake; it's time to face the truth."
Tom and I walk out of the stable into the late afternoon sun, the gravel crunching under our boots as we head toward the empty paddock where we used to practice roping as kids.
The smell of fresh hay and leather clings to us, but my mind is elsewhere.
Tom breaks the silence as we approach the fence, "You know Dad's property has been sitting empty since the accident."
I lean against the weathered fence post, my fingers tracing the grooves worn into the wood over the years.
"Dad never got around to selling it," Tom continues, his voice tinged with a mix of sadness and urgency.
"The bank sent a final notice yesterday. They're putting the ranch up for auction next month."
My stomach knots at his words.
"What about the taxes?"
I ask, my voice tight.
"Unpaid," Tom replies, his gaze steady on mine.
"Unless we can come up with the back taxes and pay off the mortgage, it'll all be gone."
A gust of wind stirs up dust devils across the empty corral where Dad taught us to ride our first horses.
Tom's eyes follow my gaze, "You know what this place meant to him."
I grip the fence tighter, my knuckles white against the weathered wood.
"I know," I say finally, "but what can we do?"
I lean against the fence post, watching dust devils dance across the empty corral while Tom's words sink in.
My mind races through options - selling my competition horses, mortgaging my truck, pulling from savings.
None of it would be enough.
Tom kicks at the dirt, waiting for me to say something more.
Finally, I push off the fence and turn to him.
"Get everyone together tonight. Mom, you, me - even Emily and Caleb. We'll figure this out as a family."
Tom nods slowly, relief crossing his face.
"Alright, I'll make the calls," Tom says, determination in his voice.
I nod, feeling a flicker of hope amidst the uncertainty.
"And Jake," he adds, "Emily's been through this with her family; she might have some ideas."
I watch Tom pull his phone from his pocket, the screen lighting up with a name that makes my chest tighten.
"Emily," he says, answering on speaker.
Her voice comes through clear and steady.
"Tom, what's going on?"
"I've got Jake here too," he says, glancing at me.
"We need to talk about the ranch."
There's a moment of silence before Emily's voice fills the space between us again.
"I was thinking... maybe we could do a fundraiser. Something big to bring in money fast."
I grip the fence post tighter, my fingers digging into the grooves worn into the wood over the years.
"A rodeo event," Emily continues, her voice gaining momentum.
"We could use the arena here at Jake's ranch. Invite local riders and charge admission."
Tom looks at me, waiting for my reaction.
I give him a nod, and he turns back to the phone.
"Go on," he encourages Emily.
"We could get food vendors in, have activities for kids," Emily explains, her voice filled with determination.
"And maybe reach out to some of the neighboring ranches to see if they'd donate anything for a silent auction." "I like it," Tom says, a small smile tugging at his lips.
"But how much time do you think we have?"
"As much as we need," Emily replies without hesitation.
"I'll handle all the planning myself."
I shake my head, knowing I can't let her take on this burden alone.
"I'll help," I say, my voice rougher than I intended.
"Alright, we'll talk more tonight," Tom says, ending the call and tucking his phone away.
I pace the kitchen with my phone pressed to my ear, working through my contact list of local ranchers.
Old Joe agrees to donate a few hay bales for extra seating, while the Martinez family offers to handle the food concessions.
Sarah from the feed store promises a few items for the auction.
Between calls, Emily works at the kitchen table, her pencil scratching against paper as she drafts layouts for the event.
She looks up when I finish my last call, her eyes meeting mine across the room.
"What do you think about staging areas?"
She asks, her voice softening as she speaks to me directly.
I force myself to walk over and lean down beside her, looking at the diagram she's drawn.
Her scent - that familiar mix of shampoo and something sweet - fills my senses.
I point to a spot on the page, trying to keep my hand steady.
"Here could be good for registration," I say, my voice coming out rougher than I intended.
"And here for the silent auction."
My finger brushes against hers on the paper, sending a jolt of electricity up my arm.
I grab my truck keys from the counter while Emily gathers her planning binder, and we both head out the door.
The cab of my truck is silent as we pull onto the dusty road, heading towards the first of the nearby ranches on our list.
Emily flips through her notes, occasionally brushing her leg against mine when we hit a bump in the road.
I keep my eyes fixed on the road ahead, trying not to let my thoughts drift back to that brief touch earlier.
We pull up to the Wilson's place, a sprawling property with fields of cattle and a large barn in the distance.
Emily takes charge, leading the way to the front door and knocking firmly.
When Mr. Wilson answers, she launches into a confident explanation of our fundraiser plans - how we're reaching out to local ranches for support, how his prize bull would be a huge draw for our exhibition event.
I stand back, watching her gestures as she talks, trying not to stare too obviously.
Mr. Wilson agrees easily enough, promising to donate his bull for the exhibition event.
But when he looks between Emily and me, I catch a knowing smirk crossing his face.
My neck burns as I turn away, waiting for Emily to finish up the details with him. Back in the truck, Emily marks off the Wilson's contribution in her binder while I grip the steering wheel tighter than necessary.
"Jake," she says softly, closing the binder and turning to face me.
"Are you okay with all of this?"
I hesitate, feeling the weight of her gaze, before finally nodding.
"I'm fine," I say, turning the key harder than necessary.
The truck's engine roars to life beneath us, and Emily shifts in her seat, her eyes returning to the list of ranches we have left to visit.
The paper sits between us on the bench seat, her neat handwriting marking off the Wilsons and highlighting the Cooper place as our next stop.
When we hit a pothole, the paper slides towards her, and she catches it against her thigh.
Her fingers brush my leg as she steadies herself, making me grip the wheel tighter.
I press the accelerator, focusing intently on the dusty road ahead while she studies the route to the Coopers.
I pull into the small diner's gravel lot, parking far from the other few vehicles scattered around.
Emily slides across the bench seat to exit my side, since her door sticks, and her body presses briefly against mine as she moves past.
Inside, the diner is quiet except for the occasional clink of dishes from the kitchen and the hum of a radio playing in the background.
We take a corner booth, the vinyl seats creaking as we settle in.
Emily spreads the donor papers between us, but I can't focus on the lists with her knee touching mine under the table.
The waitress brings our coffee, and Emily leans forward to add cream from the small pitcher she left behind.
Her hair falls close to my face, and I grip my mug tightly, feeling the hot ceramic burn my palms.
"Jake," Emily says, her voice barely above a whisper, "why do you always tense up when we're close?"
I swallow hard, staring into my coffee.
"Because," I finally admit, "I'm scared of what it means if I don't."
I stare down at my coffee, watching the steam rise while her words hang in the air.
The diner's fluorescent lights cast shadows across our corner booth as the lunch crowds filter in.
My hands tremble slightly around the hot mug when Emily slowly reaches across the table.
Her fingers brush my knuckles, tentative at first, then wrap around my hand.
The gentle pressure of her touch sends warmth up my arm.
I keep my eyes fixed on our joined hands, afraid to look up and see the softness I know is in her expression.