Page 9 of My Cowboy Trouble
The thought shouldn't be as hot as it is. But the idea of this princess giving me orders, making me work for it...
Yeah, I'm in trouble.
I step back before I do something stupid like bend her over the fence. "We'll see who's working for who, princess."
"It's Kenzie."
"Right. Kenzie." I tip my hat and start walking backward toward the barn. "Better go find Trent. Pretty sure he's got another impossible task lined up for you."
"Bring it on," she calls after me.
Fuck yeah. This is fun.
That afternoon,we're gathered in the barn like it's some kind of town meeting. Word travels fast around here, and somehow Clara Mae has materialized with her gossip radar fully activated to get all the scoop she can. She has an entire town to inform, even if she did show up here on the pretense of dropping off some animal feed.
"So this is the city girl," Clara Mae says, lookingKenzie up and down like she's livestock at auction. "Prettier than I expected. Smaller too. My money says she doesn't last the week."
"Your money's no good here, Clara Mae," I tell her. "This is between us and the princess."
"It's Kenzie," Princess says for the hundredth time, waving in our direction. "And I'm right here, you know. I can hear you talking about me."
"Oh, honey, if you can't handle us talking about you, you're definitely not going to survive," Clara Mae cackles. "These boys'll eat you alive. Especially that one." She points at me with one gnarled finger. "He's got a reputation."
"I'm sure Gavin does." Kenzie crosses her arms. "So are we making this official or what?"
Trent steps forward with an actual contract. Because of course he has a contract. "Terms are simple. You work the ranch for thirty days. Every day. No sick days, no vacation, no running back to town for a spa day."
"What if there's an emergency?"
"What kind of emergency?" Asher asks, shuffling his cards. He's always shuffling those damn cards.
"I don't know. Death in the family? Alien invasion? Zombie apocalypse?"
"In case of zombie apocalypse, the bet's off," I offer. "But anything short of that, you stay put."
She reads through the contract, which knowing Trent is probably legally bulletproof. "And if I win, youthree admit publicly that you were wrong about me. And you have to do it at the town square dance."
"There's no town square dance," Trent says.
"Then at whatever passes for a social gathering around here."
"That'd be the Rusty Spur on Saturday nights," Clara Mae pipes up. "Karaoke night. You boys could sing her an apology. I suggest 'I Was Wrong' by Chris Stapleton."
"We're not singing," Trent says flatly.
"Then a public speech will do." Kenzie signs the contract with a flourish. "Thirty days, gentlemen. Hope you've been practicing your apologies."
Billy, who's been lurking in the corner this whole time, suddenly blurts out, "I think you can do it! You're like... really strong. And brave. And pretty. Really pretty."
The kid goes red as a tomato and flees the barn. Again.
"That boy needs to get laid," Clara Mae observes. "Maybe you could help him out, honey."
"Clara Mae!" Trent looks scandalized.
"What? I'm just saying, if she's going to be here thirty days, might as well make them interesting." She winks at Kenzie. "These three ain't so bad either, once you get past all the testosterone and bullshit."
"Noted," Kenzie says dryly. "Now if you'll excuse me, I apparently have more chores. Which start in..." She checks the list. "Negative five minutes. I'm already late."
