Page 7 of My Cowboy Valentine

“Have you finally lost your fucking mind?” I ask the moment the door clicks shut.

“Cursing in front of a lady. Real nice, Ronald.” The way she says my first name irritates the hell out of me, like she’s scolding the little boy version of me.

Putting my hands on my hips, I laugh, “You are no lady.”

“I’m not surprised you don’t recognize one when you’re in her presence. You’ve probably never seen one between the rodeo circuit and Alpha Creek Ridge. Talk about a hometown boy who made good only to end up sucked back into the small-town trap. Pathetic!”

“It takes pathetic to know pathetic, I’ll give you that,” I growl low and deep in my chest. “Besides, I don’t care what the fuck you think about me. Your extended absences negate any say you have around here.”

Her eyes round, her pupils dilate, and I watch with dangerous satisfaction as her cheeks darken. She licks her thick lips sensually, her nostrils flaring. I’m half convinced she lusts after me the way I lust after her.This has got to stop…

“I know reading’s tough for you, but have you seen the headlines today?” Fortunately, the vitriol she spews neutralizes my wayward thoughts, putting me back on track to total hatred.

I remove my white Stetson, running my hand through my hair. “Nope, but I’m sure you’re about to fill me in on whatever I didn’t read.” What I wouldn’t give for some dip. I gave up the disgusting habit years ago. But damn, I could use nicotine’s stress-reducing properties. Or better yet, a shot of whiskey…or three.

“Alright, neanderthal, try to follow along. Your dumbass best friend?—”

“You mean, your brother?—”

“That’s the one…has royally fucked us both over by spilling the beans to a ZMT reporter.”

“The beans? About what?”

Her eyes narrow, and she takes a step forward, putting a sway in her luscious hips that has me fantasizing about sinking my head between them. My cock strains against my zipper, and I work overtime to channel my intense desire for her into anger and hatred. I can’t palate the alternative.

The thoughts won’t stop, though…thoughts about wrapping my hands around her waist and squeezing her hips as I claim her from behind. Of pulling up her shirt and burying my head beneath it. How would her nipples taste and feel in my mouth? The dark, unquenchable fantasies keep coming…

“Done staring at my tits?”

“For God’s sake, Red.” The breath squeezes from my lungs. She’s never acknowledged the possibility of sexual attraction between us before. Of course, the last time I saw her she was a newlywed rather than a divorcée. And there’s always been the unfortunate oddness of me being her little brother’s best friend and, for all intents and purposes, her adopted sibling. “Is this how all of y’all talk in New York City? Where are your manners?Besides, I’d rather gouge my eyes out than appreciate anything about you.”

“Glad we can agree on something because after what my brother’s done, we need to find common ground…and fast.”

I’m tired of her veiled references to what Billy’s done. The sooner she explains, the sooner I can get her out of here. I hope…

I growl, “Well, what the fuck are you waiting for? An invitation to sit down and make yourself cozy? Because you can stand here until the sun explodes for all I care. Tell me what you’ve got to tell me, or get the fuck out of here.”

“Billy sold his half of Jameson & Cash to me yesterday.”

Now she has my attention. I reflexively rub my hand over my chest, feeling cardiac arrest approaching. This has got to be a dumbass prank. If it were springtime, I’d know what’s up. But we’re a day away from Valentine’s Day, not April Fool’s. I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out apart from a raspy breath caught somewhere between a ragged exhale and a shocked inhale.

“And to make matters worse, the ZMT story also claims you and I are engaged.”

I collapse silently into the chair at the head of the conference table, my ears ringing. Ruminating on her bizarre news for a few moments, I study the table’s wood grain before grumbling in a raw voice, “Engaged to what? Cage fight?”

“No, loser. Engaged to be married.”

Rage washes over me in waves, and I say darkly, “This is ridiculous. I’m calling security.”

“Call your bestie if you don’t believe me.”

I don’t know what I believe, but the thought of watching security escort Red off the premises, even if it’s only for a few moments before I have to let her back in, is too tempting to resist. I thrust my hips forward in the chair, struggling to reach my phone in my back pocket, and Red’s face flushes crimson.Her eyes make no compunction about checking out my cock in my tight-fitting jeans.

“So, I can’t glance at your tits, but you can stare like a fiend at my junk?”

Her eyebrows shoot up into her hairline, and her face tightens. “I most certainly was not staring at your junk. That’s disgusting.”

“You’re still a bad liar,” I frown, dialing my PA and putting the phone to my ear. “Natalie, on second thought, please send security in to escort Ms. Cash out.”

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