Page 5 of My Cowboy Trouble
"All of them," Asher adds, still shuffling his cards but watching me intently.
"Every single one," Gavin finishes with that cocky grin.
"And if you don't last?" Gavin asks with a snort.
I think about it. What do I have to lose, really? Pride? I lost that somewhere between the mud puddle and the demon rooster.
"Then I'll sign the ranch over to you three. No cattlemen's association. You get it all."
The silence that follows is deafening.
"You can't be serious," Trent says.
"Dead serious." I step closer to him, close enough to see the surprise flickering in his eyes. "Unless you're worried I might actually make it here?"
Gavin laughs, loud and delighted. "Oh, I like her."
"She has no idea what she's getting into," Trent argues, but I can see the moment his pride kicks in, his jaw tightening with determination.
"Then you have nothing to worry about." I tilt my head and throw him my best resting bitch face. "Unless you're scared of losing to a city girl with a Pilates membership."
That does it. I witness the exact moment his pride kicks in, his jaw tightening with determination.
"Fine." Trent extends his hand. "Thirty days. Starting tomorrow at dawn."
We shake, his hand completely engulfing mine, rough and warm and steadier than my pulse.
"Looking forward to it, boss," I sing-song.
He holds my hand a beat too long, his thumbbrushing my knuckles just once before letting go. "I'm not your boss. You own this place, remember?"
"Then why are you giving me orders?"
"Because someone has to." He grabs his hat from the counter. "Dawn means five a.m., city girl. Set an alarm. Or three."
He walks out, leaving me with Gavin's smirk, Asher's calculating gaze, and Billy's hero worship.
"That was hot," Billy blurts, then goes red again. "I mean, not hot! Just... intense? I'm gonna go do some... stuff." He runs from the room.
Asher stands, pocketing his cards. "Word of advice? Trent hasn't lost a challenge in the ten years I've known him."
"There's a first time for everything."
"Maybe." He moves closer, close enough that I can smell his clean, simple shampoo. "But if you want to survive this, you're going to need allies. I could be very... helpful."
"I'll keep that in mind, Asher."
"You do that." He winks and saunters out, leaving me with Gavin.
"Just you and me then, princess." He stands, moving into my space with the confidence of someone who's never been turned down. "Want to know a secret?"
"Is it the location of a Starbucks?"
"Better." He leans in, his breath warm against my ear. "That demon rooster? Sir Clucks-a-Lot? He was your aunt's favorite. She trained him to attack anyonewho didn't respect the ranch." He pulls back, grinning at my expression. "Got get it, city girl."
He leaves me alone in a kitchen that's probably seen more history than I can imagine, in a house I almost own but don't understand, with thirty days stretching ahead of me like an obstacle course designed by someone who really, really wants me to fail.
I look down at my hands—soft, manicured, clearly not ranch hands. Yet.
