Page 1 of Cowboy of Convenience
CHAPTER ONE
EVELYN
Please scroll back for trigger warnings.
"SHOTS. SHOTS. SHOTS. Shots." The women lined around the high-top table at The Creekery pounded their fists against the marred wood surface as they chanted, trying to peer pressure her into getting obliterated with them. Which was pretty hilarious considering they weren’t her peers.
Maybe her grandmother's peers. Not that her grandmother would ever be caught dead in a place like this.
Evelyn forced on a smile as she lifted the glass of water she’d been nursing all night. "I’m just fine, thank you."
Gertrude shoved out her lower lip in a pout. "You've got to have at least one.” She wiggled her brows. “We've got a designated driver tonight." The old woman leaned across the table. “Might even get him to take advantage of you if you play your cards right.”
"I'm pretty sure Officer Staks has asked you very nicely not to call him your designated driver." Evelyn cut a longing gaze toward the alcohol that would most certainly take the edge off this night. “And I have less than no interest in him taking advantage of me.”
Cooper was nice enough, and ridiculously good-looking, but she felt nothing for him outside of pity. He’d made the poor decision to offer the girls a ride home anytime they needed one, and the group of retirees were doing their best to make him regret his suggestion.
“That’s fine.” Gertrude leaned back in her seat, giving Evelyn an exaggerated wink behind the lens of her bifocal. “I’m sure he’d be fine with you taking advantage of him instead.”
Evelyn resisted the urge to sigh. These women were worse than the group of friends she used to hang out with in New York. They were mouthier, ballsier, and hell bent on encouraging bad decisions.
And she was done making those. It’s not like they helped anyway.
“No one is taking advantage of anyone tonight or any other night.” She looked from woman to woman, keeping her expression serious. “We’ve talked about this. Consent is important. That’s why we can’t fake a fall and use it as an opportunity to get our hands on a cowboy.”
“No one’s done that since the night Agnes got a black eye because she wasn’t as good at fake falling as she thought.” Betty leaned into Evelyn’s ear like Agnes wouldn’t still be able to hear her across the table. “But I don’t blame her. I’d take two black eyes to get my hands on Officer Grady.”
Evelyn pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. Not only because keeping these women in line was like herding a group of cats in heat, but also because she understood where Betty was coming from.
Officer Grady Haynes was frustratingly appealing. Not only was he a tall, broad, solid wall of stupidly well-toned muscle, he was also calm and collected. Patient and kind. Hard working and polite to a fault.
And he had a voice like melting butter. So smooth and decadent it made her mouth water.
It also affected other, more problematic, parts of her. Parts that would most certainly make her want to break the one-night only rule she’d been following all her life.
Because there was no way a woman could have a man like that in her bed only once.
"And those boys don’t mind driving us home." Gertrude waved one hand around as she reached for the salt shaker with the other. “What else do they have to do?" She snagged a tiny glass of tequila from the center of the table and knocked it back, licking a line of salt from her hand before sucking on the lime wedge Paige hooked over the rim. She barely winced before continuing on. "And I bet they’d rather make sure we all get into our homes safe and sound than risk having to find one of us sprawled across our front lawn in the morning."
The rest of her friend group nodded along, agreeing with Gertrude’s assessment.
Betty scooted a lemon drop her way, wiggling her penciled-on brows in not-so-subtle encouragement. "We even ordered your favorite."
Evelyn sighed. She loved the group of grandmothers. Enjoyed spending time with them. Thought they were some of the most amazing women she'd ever met.
But they would absolutely thrive in high-pressure sales.
"I have to teach an early class in the morning." Evelyn scooted the lemon drop back toward Betty. "I'm just here to have a good time and hang out."
Betty huffed out a breath, slumping down a little. "You're no fun."
"I'm fun. I'm just trying to be responsible." It was a new thing for her. And while it was uncomfortable and strange at first, being the voice of reason felt good.
She would never admit it, though. She’d spent too long making people believe the exact opposite.
"Then I guess we'll have to be irresponsible for you." Gertrude grabbed the lemon drop and shot it back, one eye twitching a little. "That’s sour. I don't know how you stand it."
Evelyn took another sip of her water. "Says the woman who shoots tequila straight."
