Page 14 of My Cowboy Valentine

“Yes, Rowdy,” I nod. “Nothing about that seemed fake…or awkward.”

Except for my fingertips buried beneath the band of his underwear, my hands poised to grab his muscular ass. Oh my God! I slide them free, trying to play it cool. But there’s nothingcool about my burning cheeks or my heavy panting.My eyes dart around the room for a hole I can crawl in and die.

Stepping back, he turns away, barking, “I’ll see you at the fit testing tomorrow afternoon.”

Is he dismissing me?Normally, I’d have plenty to say about it. Instead,I struggle to breathe, the electric feel of his touch lingering on my skin.

God, what is wrong with me?I have to pull my shit together. I’m the dragon lady, and business always comes before all else…even crazy, wild sexual tension, urging me to lock the door and find new uses for the conference table.

Swallowing hard, I say more breathlessly than I mean to, “I need to familiarize myself with the line before then. Would you…umm…mind walking me through everything? Let me take a look at the original tech pack you submitted…along with your…umm…initial changes?” Never has stringing a sentence together proven more challenging.

But my recent conversation with Mr. Pharrell and the chance to get my company back gnaw at the corners of my mind, accompanied by a hefty dose of self-disgust. I can’t believe I’m helping Pharrell do to Rowdy what he did to me. But it’s not the same thing. Rowdy can’t care about Jameson & Cash like I do about The Red Brand.

Turning, Rowdy barely glances at me as he walks past, his arousal evident despite adjusting his jeans. My cheeks flame with satisfaction, and my heart throbs, knowing he feels it, too.Thank God.

Of course, a new set of problems follows this revelation. For starters…how my flesh responds to seeing the bump from his thick, long rod in his jeans. I need a new pair of panties. And a cold shower and my vibrator…

He growls, “Shelley can help you with that. I’m going riding.”

I’ll give you a ride, cowboy. Okay, Red, stop this!I bark in caustic tones, “In the middle of the day? But we have so much to do.”

“I’ve got to clear my mind,” he grumbles, his face storming as he exits the conference room that leads into the reception area and lobby. “See you tomorrow,” I hear him call over his shoulder as I collect the melty, quivering mass that is my mutinous flesh back into something resembling a functioning whole.

Thirty minutes later, I stand in front of Shelley’s desk, the blonde I flipped off earlier in the parking lot.

She frowns, looking down and refusing to make eye contact. I’m curious how much the eavesdropper managed to hear of my car conversation.

“Rowdy told me to come see you for a walk-through of the new line and the tech pack. You know, before we redo the fit testing.” I say the last part to needle her, frowning. I can tell repeating the test has her panties in a bunch. The bitch should’ve done it right the first time.

“I’m quite busy right now, Ms. Cash. I’m sure you understand how hectic fashion industry schedules are.”

“That wasn’t a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ question, Daisy Duke,” I reprimand, my voice rising. Who the hell does this woman think she is? “Last time I checked, I’m half-owner of Jameson & Cash, which makes me your employer.”

She frowns. “I don’t know what Mr. Jameson sees in you.” No doubt she’s referring to our fake engagement.

I shrug, the corners of my mouth turning down. “It’s the blowjobs. He’s hooked. What can I say?”

She looks horrified, but she rises, acquiescing to my request. As Shelley leads the way, I realize I’ve been too loud. The whole office is looking in my direction, their faces shell-shocked. Internally, I chide myself to take it down a notch.Thisis not NYC, after all.

But between the handcuffs yesterday, my earlier talk with Mr. Pharrell, and the steamiest fucking kiss of my life, I have less than zero tolerance for snooty, back-talking employees. Especially ones who like Rowdy in more than a professional manner.

Wait a second. Am I jealous of Shelley?

I stare at the snarky woman before me, realization crashing into me. Yes. One hundred percent wildly jealous.What are Alpha Ridge Creek and Rowdy Jameson doing to me?I’ve got to get Pharrell whatever he needs, so I can flee this shithole and get my company back…before my hometown or its delicious rodeo star complicate my life any further.

Chapter Seven

RED

Five hours into the most tedious fit testing I’ve done in twenty years, the tech pack bursts at the seams with new suggestions, and Rowdy’s design team looks haggard and nervous. To my surprise, though, the cowboy learns quickly, and I can confidently say he and I are on the same page. Hell, he even breaks into a conservative smile several times, nodding his head and telling me he knew something was off but didn’t know how to describe the remedy.

“Now, that’s how you do a fit testing,” I say, clapping my hands together. Natalie frowns, rubbing her eyes, and Shelley shoots me a dirty look. It doesn’t surprise me. I spent much of the last few hours poking holes in her original assessments and lack of thorough inspection. It’s inexcusable. “Next time, we’ll hopefully get an earlier start. But prepare for occasional late nights. My team in the City knows this, and the same rules apply here.”

All eyes look questioningly towards Rowdy, and my stomach drops, ready for the next fight. Instead, he says firmly, “Ms. Cash is correct—new protocols for a better brand. Now, I don’t know how they do things in the Big Apple, but the least I can offeris dinner and drinks for the crew. Does pizza and beer from Stuckey’s work?”

Eyes drop to the ground, and shoulders hunch. One employee after another explains why they better get home until Rowdy and I are the last ones standing. He eyes me, his face unreadable and his jaw muscle jumping.

Natalie says in a quiet voice, “Don’t let us keep you two lovebirds…”

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