To Marry a Texas Cowboy

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To Marry a Texas Cowboy Page 13

by Julie Benson


  McKenna stood there stunned. No one was judging her? They were sympathizing with her and showing concern? People never showed concern for her. Instead, they viewed her as capable, responsible, and self-sufficient. But here were people she barely knew worried about her. “Thank you for understanding and fretting over me, but he didn’t throw us in jail. We went to his office where Zane and I worked everything out.”

  Except they hadn’t discussed their kiss. Maybe they could both pretend it never happened?

  “I’m glad something positive came out of it, but I plan to talk with AJ about his swollen head and how absolute power corrupts absolutely when we get home,” Grace said, loud enough for her fiancé to hear.

  “Good thing there are plenty of couches I can sleep on,” AJ joked.

  Zane shaking his head and looking a bit unsettled, turned to Cooper. “I thought you said AJ threatened you with jail, but nothing came of it?”

  AJ clapped Cooper on the back. “Cooper was smart. He didn’t test my friendship by calling my bluff.”

  “Did I forget to mention that?” Cooper asked sheepishly.

  Zane rolled his eyes, but before he could respond, the band announced they were slowing things down for a couple songs, and Zane moved to stand in front of McKenna. He held out his hand. “You promised me a dance.”

  As she placed her hand in his, electricity jolted through her bringing with it memories of being in his arms earlier. How the world faded away. How she’d felt desired and desirable, in a way she’d never felt before. On the dance floor, when his hand slid around her waist, her breath hitched in her chest. This wasn’t a romantic dance. She had to keep reminding herself of the fact. This was a good faith display. A musical form of a handshake sealing their deal to work together and compromise in the office.

  Too bad her body refused to acknowledge the fact.

  Chapter Ten

  McKenna’s body possessed a different opinion than her head as to what was happening between her and Zane. Cravings coursed through her, fueling her need, obliterating her common sense.

  As she floated around the room in his strong embrace, every feminine gaze locked on them, soon shattering her warm, fuzzy tingles. This was what her mother had experienced. Men like Zane and her father drew women the way manure called flies. Her father had never discouraged the admirers, instead thriving on the attention. When he failed to deter them, the women grew bolder, and her mother shrank further into the background. At least until she divorced him. For the first time, McKenna truly felt the ramifications of ignoring her mother’s warning.

  Desperate to lighten her mood, she said, “Maybe I should be worried about my job security since it appears you’re the only eligible bachelor within six counties. I wonder why no one told me? But this could be trouble. After all, no single men, no weddings.”

  Zane’s brows furrowed in confusion, apparently not understanding her joke. “What makes you say that?”

  “Don’t you see the attention you’re gathering? The single women who aren’t drooling over you are glaring at me. Makes me worried someone might jump me on my way out tonight.”

  Instead of scanning the room to verify her contention as she expected, Zane’s gaze remained riveted on her. “If you need a bodyguard later, I’m available and willing.”

  She laughed, thinking he’d made a chivalrous joke.

  His hand tightened around her waist. “I’m serious.”

  Her heart raced, and the hot tingles returned in truckloads making her toes curl inside her practical shoes. She perused the room again, this time noting Campbell parked at a corner table. As they said in Texas, with eyes cold enough to chill a side of beef.

  “I may take you up on that. The look Campbell’s giving me makes me nervous after today.”

  Zane shook his head and frustration lined his features. “Since she’s in Susannah’s wedding and you’ll have to deal with her, I’ll talk to her. This is ridiculous.”

  McKenna stumbled and Zane’s arm tightened around her, pulling her closer to keep her from falling, and she bit her lip to keep from sighing at the contact. This was so bad. Dangerous even. They’d been better off not getting along. Anything was better than this. Definitely safer.

  Forget that and enjoy this moment.

  After tonight, being in Zane’s arms couldn’t happen again. She had career plans to focus on. He was Ginny’s grandson, and technically her boss for the next few weeks, and then he’d return to California.

  But that didn’t mean she couldn’t have tonight. She’d spent her career giving brides their perfect days while she’d missed so many typical high school experiences. Between moving, being average looking, smart, and opinionated, she hadn’t been invited to homecoming or prom. In college, she’d focused on her grades to maintain her scholarships.

  She deserved tonight, and for the next two and something minutes, McKenna pushed out every thought except being in Zane’s arms. She whirled around the dance floor with the town’s most sought after bachelor and pretended this was real. As she soaked up the sounds, every flutter or surge of desire, she filed them away to savor.

  When the music ended, McKenna stepped out of Zane’s arms and a chill swept over her. She’d been the belle of the ball, but her Cinderella midnight moment had arrived. She peeked at Campbell and the woman stood. Probably about to head straight for Zane. Heaven help anyone in her path. Unwilling to handle another prize fight with the maid of honor from hell, McKenna nodded toward Zane’s friends still dancing. “Tell them goodbye for me, will you?”

  “Is it Campbell?”

  “No,” she lied. “Enjoy the rest of your night.”

  She turned to leave, but Zane remained beside her, escorting her back to the table. She grinned at him. This Zane wasn’t half bad. She might go as far to say she liked him. “Don’t let Campbell rip off your clothes. You don’t want to land in jail for indecent exposure,” she teased as she grabbed her purse.

  When she headed for the front door, Zane kept pace beside her. “What is it with you and Campbell?”

  McKenna crooked an eyebrow and leveled him with a you’re-kidding glare. “Other than what happened at work? If you hadn’t stepped between us when she wanted more champagne and I cut her off, she probably would’ve hit me.”

  “I thought you said you could’ve handled her?”

  “It was all bravado.”

  “You mean you lied?”

  “Potato, po-tah-to,” she said, surprised how much she enjoyed joking with him.

  He chuckled. “With all that, I see your point about Campbell.”

  When they reached the front door, Zane opened it for them to exit. The temperature had dropped outside when the sun set, leaving a definite fall chill in the air. McKenna wrapped her arms around her. The door closed behind them with a heavy thud, startling her. The town square, except for the Horseshoe’s parking lot and the street parking spaces nearby had cleared out. Shops had closed for the night, their signs and the streetlights casting a glow over the quiet town.

  They stood on the sidewalk awkwardly for a moment, the only sound muffled music from the Horseshoe. What could she say? What was the appropriate response and behavior after arguing over industry rules, sharing a mind-blowing-toe-curling kiss, trying to get his grandmother to change her mind about him taking over, getting locked in the chief of police’s office, calling a truce, and dancing with someone?

  “I’m glad we reached a truce. I could enjoy working with the guy I met tonight.” She pointed a couple shops down the street. “There’s my car. I can take it from here.”

  He cupped her elbow. “My bodyguard service doesn’t end until you’re safely in your car.” He flashed her a quick, crooked grin that sent little quivers shooting through her. “I’m a full-service guy.”

  She’d bet he was.

  Thoughts of Zane and what else she’d like to do with him bombarded her. She glanced around for a distraction. The display in Dress Like a Dream’s front window caught her eye. A sim
ple brown skirt was paired with a fitted white western-style blouse. A concho belt with turquoise cinched the blouse in at the waist. A chunky turquoise necklace with a large silver heart pendant, a silver turquoise heart in its center, completed the outfit. How would that look on her?

  First Grace saying people needed to feel they knew her to trust her. Then Zane saying fitting in more would help her earn people’s trust. Now this outfit in the window catching her eye. Would it hurt to change her style a little? Loosen up? After all, Wishing was less formal than Houston.

  “Though I might burst into flames getting that close to a University of Texas orange car,” Zane said, pulling her back to their conversation.

  McKenna laughed. “I think you’ll survive.”

  Music spilled into the night when the Horseshoe’s door opened behind them, distracting McKenna. A song about getting mud on the tires.

  “Zane, there you are. I was afraid I wouldn’t catch you.”

  Campbell again. The woman had more than her share of determination.

  McKenna nodded to Zane. “And that’s my cue to go.”

  “I said I’d see you to your car.”

  However, before they took two steps Campbell caught them.

  Breathing heavily, her breasts about to pop out of her low-cut, skintight sparkly T-shirt, she grabbed Zane’s forearm. “I can’t believe you left with her when you could’ve had me. You need glasses.”

  “Maybe he’s not into rude,” McKenna replied, her voice level and matter of fact despite her exhausted patience.

  Her face scrunched with rage, Campbell surged forward. Panic burst through McKenna as she stumbled backward. If Campbell reached her, she was a goner. Holding her hands out in front of her as a shield, McKenna braced, but Zane stepped in front of her. Strong and confident, he created an unmovable barrier.

  “Why the hell do you think you’re something special?” Campbell shouted at McKenna over Zane’s shoulder.

  “Stay here,” Zane said without looking at McKenna as he encircled Campbell’s waist and hauled her away.

  While Zane talked and Campbell screeched, McKenna couldn’t understand the conversation. As the other woman railed, she flapped her arms. McKenna laughed. Much more force and she might get airborne.

  Deciding she’d experienced enough drama for a year, McKenna headed for her car, unlocked the door, and slid inside. No one could tarnish her belle of the ball dance, but she knew when to crawl in her pumpkin and head home. She refused to make the same mistake her mother had, getting trampled by women trying to gain Zane’s attention. Tonight it had been Campbell, but it would always be someone.

  *

  The next morning McKenna stood in front of Dress Like a Dream waiting for the shop to open. With all the hours she’d put in lately, she’d decided she could go in late today.

  She couldn’t remember the last time she’d gone clothes shopping. After starting her career, she’d stocked her closet with basics—slacks, skirts, blazers—all in black, along with a few sweaters, blouses, and other professional tops. Everything being mix and match, allowed her to grab and go. When one of her pieces showed wear, she replaced it. The only difficulty came when her previous purchase was discontinued.

  Standing in front of the display window, McKenna stared at the outfit that caught her eye last night. Talking with Grace and then Zane had gotten McKenna thinking. Was she keeping herself too separate from the rest of town? She might have dismissed Grace’s comment, except she was a newcomer, too. If she thought there might be a problem, McKenna needed to seriously consider the issue.

  Last night when she joined Grace and her friends, McKenna felt awkward and out of place for numerous reasons. One being how she was dressed. The other women appeared more comfortable, like they belonged in Wishing. Houston had been more city than Texas in terms of work attire. But in Wishing, folks definitely dressed with a Texas flare, wearing jeans and cowboy boots everywhere, including church. They simply wore their Sunday best boots and jeans. No one wore basic black unless it was to a funeral. She hated that Zane had been right about that.

  She glanced at the outfit again. While the necklace was a little ostentatious for her tastes and she wasn’t sure about the belt, if she changed to a smaller, more delicate and less conspicuous turquoise necklace and a plain leather belt, the outfit wouldn’t be Mars distance out of her comfort zone.

  But what would Zane say when he saw her changed wardrobe? With his ego, he’d think it due to him. That she had been bothered by his comments on her clothes and hair. Her hair. She smoothed a hand along her temple to her bun the way she did a hundred times a day to check for neatness. Did her hair make her less approachable? Uppity? She reached up, took down the bun, and removed her ponytail holder. Then she combed her fingers through her hair. Not comfortable wearing it down, she swept it back not quite as tight, in a softer style she’d seen brides or attendants wear.

  Baby steps.

  The rumble and click of the lock opening drew McKenna’s attention. A tall woman dressed in a formfitting cream lace skirt, a T-shirt with a horse on the front, a denim jacket, and boots opened the door. “Sorry you had to wait on me. I had to gas up my truck since I was running on fumes.” The woman stepped aside and invited McKenna in.

  The shop displayed an eclectic mix of clothing. One area showcased what McKenna considered traditional women’s western wear of sturdy jeans and colorful cotton blouses. Another section contained trendier western clothes such as rhinestone-studded jeans and shirts, T-shirts with western sayings like Sunshine and Whiskey, and long flowing skirts. Near the cash register stood racks of earrings and necklaces. The back of the store displayed cowboy boots in various styles and more colors than she could’ve imagined.

  “My name’s Rosalie. Welcome to my shop. Is there anything special you’re looking for?”

  McKenna introduced herself, but before she could ask about the outfit, Rosalie said, “You’re working with Ginny Logan? I’d have pegged you for a tourist. I’m surprised we haven’t met before.”

  Another hint that I’m too isolated? Really? McKenna smiled and spouted her standard excuse about being too busy settling in to explore the town and its wonderful shops.

  A big smile on her face, Rosalie said, “I’m right glad to meet you now. I heard tell Ginny hired an assistant. ’Bout time if you ask me. How that woman’s managed her business all these years with only Opal to handle the books is beyond me.”

  McKenna replied yes, Ginny worked too hard. “I’m hoping to take part of the workload off her once she returns.”

  “And speaking of Ginny. She called yesterday wanting a bottle of hand lotion. One thing you’ll find here in town is we businesspeople shop local whenever we can.”

  Okay. I get the message. I need to quit being such a hermit and get out in town more. You can stop dropping hints.

  “Would you mind taking it to her since I can’t get away until after I close at six?”

  McKenna replied she’d be happy to and resisted the urge to look at her watch. This was why she preferred online shopping. She’d hoped to pop in, try on the outfit, buy it if it fit, and head to work. But here she was, having to make small talk. “The outfit in the window, the brown skirt and blouse caught my eye.”

  “Then let’s find your sizes so you can try it on.”

  A minute later McKenna found herself in the dressing room with the outfit, including the concho belt. Rosalie proved quite the salesperson. After changing, she glanced in the mirror and felt as if she were staring at someone else. The blouse’s fitted style felt odd. Ever since middle school when her father teased her about her weight, she’d worn loose-fitting clothes. Even in college after losing fifteen pounds because she walked more living in one of the farthest out dorms, she hadn’t been brave enough to wear a blouse and skirt like this.

  But staring in the mirror, she liked the image staring back.

  Her father’s advice pounded in her head. Good thing you’re smart, McKenna, since you’ll
never be the beauty your sister is or have money like your mother did. Though God knows her money didn’t help us any.

  No. She wouldn’t let him spoil how great she felt. She would fit in here in Wishing because the town could, one day, be her home. No more moving. How wonderful would that be—to be in control of her career and never have to relocate again? The possibility left her almost giddy.

  Not only would she fit in, she wanted to. What would being part of a community feel like? She couldn’t imagine, but she found herself excited to find out.

  She glanced in the mirror again. She shouldn’t spend the money. She should make do with her current wardrobe until she crawled out of debt. But wasn’t purchasing this outfit, maybe an additional one or two more, and something appropriate for weddings an investment in her future?

  The bell over the door jingled as it opened. “Mornin’, Rosalie. Ginny asked me to pick up hand cream for her.”

  McKenna closed her eyes and fought her urge to find a back door to sneak out of as the familiar, husky voice washed over her. Could she stay in the dressing room until he left?

  You’re going to hide? You’ll have to face him at work. Might as well do it now. Plus, hiding isn’t your style.

  Plastering a bright smile on her face despite her wiggly Jell-O insides, she stepped out of the dressing room, carrying her folded old clothes in front of her.

  Pretend nothing’s different.

  Zane’s clear green eyes widened and then a slow, sexy grin spilled across his face. Her pulse jumped in response. “You look too nice in that outfit to wear those butt-ugly shoes.”

  *

  Zane had never believed the saying clothes made the man, but they sure made a helluva difference for McKenna. At least he thought it was McKenna. The voice was hers, but that was all he could swear to in a court of law.

  Her brows furrowed, she said, “Was that supposed to be a compliment?”

  “About you, yes. About the shoes, no.”

 

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