Page 42 of Ride Me Cowboy

Did he expect me to say no?Wantme to say no?

But right when I’m ready to head into town, that evening, he steps out of our shared office. He’s wearing his usual cowboy getup, but not the same as he would out on the ranch. These are newer jeans, darker, and boots that don’t have dust on them. He looks so darn good I could weep.

“You ready to go?”

“I was just heading into town, yeah.”

“How ‘bout I drive?” he suggests, so I grimace a little with embarrassment at the way he’d had to carry me home last time. “Makes more sense than taking two cars,” he points out. Like a true gentleman, he makes it about logistics, rather than my inability to hold my drink.

“Okay, if you’re sure.”

“Yeah, I’m sure, Beth,” he says, and I realize he hasn’t called me City Girl in a while, and that I miss it. I toy with my necklace, then hear Christopher’s voice, chastising me for fidgeting, and drop my hand abruptly.

“I’ll wait outside,” I say, simply because being this close to him, in here, is setting the hairs on my neck on end, in a way that makes my tummy all knotty and weird.

It’s a warm evening, the breeze coming off the plains still showing the heat of the day. I’m wearing jeans and a floaty linen singlet top, loose and comfortable, and as a gentle breeze rustles past, it lifts to expose a hint of my stomach.

The front door slams shut and seconds later, Cole’s coming down the few steps, toward me. “Ready?”

My tongue feels unnaturally thick, making speech difficult, so I just jerk my head in agreement.

The drive to the tavern is mostly completed in silence. As we approach the main street, though, I ask, “Where are the others?”

“Already there.”

I chew on my lip, searching around for conversation. “Mackenzie seems like one of the family.”

He visibly relaxes, so I realize it’s not just me who’s wound up. The air between us seems to crackle with tension, and I can’t even say why. Only that I feel like we’re both holding back, not saying something we’re thinking.

“She is,” he agrees, finally.

“You said she’s been here a couple of years?”

His head shifts slightly in agreement.

“Are there many women working on ranches?”

“Not like Mackenzie,” he says with a grin, as he pulls the car into a space a little way down from the bar. “She’s a one off.”

“I can tell.”

“She’ll want to fight Caleb to run the place, if anything happens to me.”

My blood chills, out of nowhere, to think of this big, vital man not being around anymore. But accidents happen. Look at Christopher. What were the chances of him stepping out to cross the street at the exact moment a drunk driver ran a red light? He shouldn’t have even been there that night. A muscle throbs in my chest—a familiar pain of betrayal.

“Beth? You okay?”

I glance at him, and from the way his expression shows concern, I gather my thoughts are all over my face. I put my hand on the door. “Sure am. Let’s go, Cowboy.”

I step out of the car before he can question me further, and walk toward The Silver Spur. Across the street, there’s a place I haven’t been to, but it’s crowded, as well. A diner, the sign is lit up, a bright red, and says: The Wild Hog.

Cole is right behind me, all sexy swagger and heady pine forest cologne. When we get close to the doors, he moves quickly to open it for me and tips his head a little as I walk past. My heart twists at those subtle, old-fashioned good manners.

Inside, the place is crammed full of people, and loud. A band’s playing a well-known country song, and at least half of the town is up on the floor, dancing along to it.

“It’s packed,” I say to Cole.

“What?” He cups his ear.

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