Her Forever Cowboy (Harland County Series Book 4)

by Donna Michaels

  “Both.”

  Jordan nodded and pulled out of the parking lot. “The safety part we can work on, but the Greg part is out of our hands.”

  That was the problem. Shayla hated not being able to protect her sister. And even if the guy turned out to be nice, there was the added worry that her father and his goons would harm Greg and the other roommates, too.

  “We just need to make sure the place is safe. I don’t want any of them to get hurt.”

  “Will do,” Jordan assured. “Now, tell me how you feel about Mr. Airforce. He did seem genuinely happy to see Caitlin.”

  “Yeah.” She smirked, remembering the heated kiss. “I thought he was going to swallow her tongue.”

  Jordan laughed. “I hate to break it to you, but that’s how you and Kevin looked at my sister’s shower/bachelorette party a few months back.”

  Air funneled into Shayla’s lungs so fast she coughed. Shoot. Now heat was settling low in her belly as the memory of that incredible, hot, decadent kiss washed clean over her. “Damn, I was trying to forget.”

  “Honey, one never forgets a kiss a like that.”

  Not when one kept reminding you. Or when the memory appeared in the deep, dark, lonely hours of the night. Or after kissing him a second time the other night.

  “But I want to forget him.” They had no future, so she really was trying to put the Casanova cowboy out of her mind. Without much luck. Even the memory of him was stubborn.

  “Let me guess, the kiss, the touches, that incredible dance all haunts you, right?”

  Shayla stared at her friend. “Yeah…how did…”

  Pulling in the driveway behind Greg’s vehicle, Jordan’s smile turned wistful as she parked the car. “When I was sixteen, we moved to California, and I tried for years to forget Cole and the way he made me feel. I wanted so badly to believe everyone when they told me it was just a crush and I’d get over him.”

  “But…?”

  “It was more than that. I knew it was. I always knew, but fate just never seemed to be on our side.”

  “Until last year.”

  A full-blown grin spread across her friend’s face. “Until last year. Well, actually, it’ll be two years this April,” Jordan corrected, her expression becoming sad and troubled. “God, he was such a mess. So guilt-ridden over his first wife’s death. He was a complete bastard.”

  Shayla reeled back having a hard time picturing the kind and generous man anything but.

  The smile returned to Jordan’s face. “I know it’s hard to believe because he’s back to his old self. The guy I hated to leave all those years ago.”

  “Well, I’m really glad things have worked out for you both,” Shayla said, meaning every word.

  “Me, too, but the point I was trying to make before I got off the beaten path was that just because you want to forget Kevin and the way he makes you feel, doesn’t mean you can.”

  “Great.” Her sigh filled the car. “I’ll just have to avoid the guy as much as possible, I guess.”

  Jordan snickered. “It won’t matter. I’m sorry, hun. You can try, but if Kevin makes you feel how Cole makes me feel, then that won’t help one bit. In fact, it’ll probably make it worse.”

  “Gee, thanks for not blowing smoke up my ass.”

  “You’re welcome. Anytime.” Jordan winked, then touched Shayla’s arm. “Seriously, though, I’ve been in the I-don’t-want-to-be-obsessed-with-him boots you’re wearing, so if you ever need to talk, you know where to find me.”

  “Thanks, that’s sweet. But, I’ll be fine. It’s just a physical thing. The guy is too irresponsible for me to let into Amelia’s life.”

  “Kevin? Irresponsible?” Jordan threw her head back and laughed, and soon Amelia was joining in.

  Shayla glanced at her happy daughter and smiled. “Yeah, I’m not knocking him. It’s just that we live in two different worlds. He’s rich and irresponsible, and I’m not.”

  “Shayla, trust me, don’t let his dreamboat good looks or fun-loving, smart mouth persona fool you. Kevin Dalton never shirks his responsibilities.”

  Blinking at her friend, she couldn’t stop her mouth from dropping open and chin from touching her chest. “You sure you’re not talking about his cousin Kade?”

  Kade Dalton was a responsible human being. Sheriff, First Sergeant, horse whisperer of sorts who worked with neglected and abused horses. Very responsible.

  Kevin?

  Nope. Not seeing it.

  “Yes, I’m sure I’m talking about Kevin, although Kade is very similar.”

  She shook her head back and forth. Her friend was definitely delusional. “Sorry, I don’t see it.”

  “Look, after his father died in an accident on the ranch, Kevin became so focused on keeping the ranch afloat and taking care of his invalid mother, he didn’t make time for fun.”

  Her heart squeezed in her chest. He hadn’t had the ideal childhood she’d mistakenly thought. It was a shame, but still, the man was a player and she did not want to know why.

  “I’m sorry he had it rough,” she said, and meant it, but had to stop her friend from revealing any more of the hot cowboy’s past. The less she knew about the guy, the better. Much easier to remain unmoved by the sexy man if he was just a fun-seeking Don Juan. “My baby girl means too much to me to allow her to get attached to the guy just so he can leave and break her heart.”

  Jordan cocked her head. “Are you sure you’re not talking about you?”

  Again, she reeled back. “Me? No. I never had a guy leave me.”

  “What about Bobby?”

  Shoot. Her friend was in deputy mode again, brown gaze slightly narrowed and glued to her face. Kade and Caitlin were the only ones who knew the truth about her relationship with her late fiancé. Even though she trusted Jordan, Shayla didn’t enlighten her friend. She just wasn’t comfortable opening up to people.

  “He didn’t leave me. Not intentionally.”

  Jordan smiled. “Good, I’m glad you realize that.”

  “I do, and I also realize Caitlin and Greg are waiting for us to get out of the car and start our tour.” She motioned to the couple staring at them from the wide-front porch.

  “Okay, then let’s do this.” With a smile and a nod, Jordan got out of the car.

  “Do-dis,” her daughter repeated as she tossed her book on the floor.

  It was time to do-dis, to put Kevin to bed…ah hell, she did not need that visual…put aside the discussion about Kevin, and concentrate on her sister’s safety.

  Damn, but that brain hiccup set her pulse fluttering out of control, and heat throughout her body. She opened the door and welcomed the winter breeze on her flushed skin.

  The discussion Jordan had initiated was meant to be helpful, but it wasn’t. Guilt settled like a ten pound weight across her shoulders for not confiding the truth about Bobby to her friend. Then there was her Kevin conundrum.

  After removing her daughter from the car seat, Shayla rubbed her temple in a feeble attempt to get rid of the increased pounding. It was turning into one of those days.

  The way the wind blew in from the Gulf, cold and unforgiving, verified spring was still a good three months away. Damn. Kevin loved a warm day in winter. Made the season more bearable, and wearing a suit not as cold. He shivered under his overcoat. Too bad today wasn’t one of those days. Jeans were better suited for these conditions, but failed to meet McCall Enterprises’ dress code.

  Maybe he could get the bossman to relax the code.

  Shifting his weight to his uninjured foot, he approached the weathered wooden screen door and made a mental note to add painting to the list of spring chores he intended to do for his former elementary school teacher.

  Before work every Thursday morning for the past five years, Kevin stopped in to check on the octogenarian. Standing on the woman’s porch, he couldn’t help but remember similar winter days in his childhood. Except back then, he’d been next to his mom, grumbling about having to take dance less
ons—not hefting a twenty-five pound bag of cat food on his shoulder.

  He knocked on the door and stood back, a slight smile tugging his lips as he waited for his old dance teacher to answer. Yeah, Mrs. Avery would’ve been right proud at how well her lessons had prepared him for the likes of one Shayla Ryan.

  “You’re such a nice young man, Kevin. You didn’t forget me.” The white-haired woman in a bright pink floral robe smiled and opened the door wide to let him in.

  He leaned down to kiss her cheek as he entered. “I could never forget you, Mrs. Avery. You were my favorite teacher.”

  “You only say that because I gave you straight A’s in English.”

  “Which I earned,” he remarked, walking past Davey and Crockett, her two big Maine Coon cats lounging like kings on their own wing-back chairs.

  At the sound of the bag rustling on his shoulder, the cats sparked to life, jumping off their thrones to follow him into the kitchen.

  “True. Never could understand how such a fine-looking boy was also blessed with a beautiful brain and great rhythm.”

  “My grandmother used to say I was charmed.”

  “Hogwash. Touched is more like it. I knew your grandmother. She liked to spin a good yarn.”

  He laughed as he set the bag down in the pantry, making sure Davy and Crockett were in the kitchen before he shut the pantry door. She still had her wicked sense-of-humor. One of the reasons they got on so well. “Ah, now you’re just sweet talking me,” he teased, receiving a snort in response.

  “You wish,” she muttered good-naturedly, going through the ritual of burning him a bagel hard enough to crack a molar, then adding some kind of homemade salsa marmalade hot enough to peel paint.

  Perfect for his warm weather chore list. He made a mental note to ask for some when he fixed her front door in the spring. It would certainly take less time than scraping, but he feared the old wood would disintegrate, or worse. Catch fire.

  The sweet lady was an exceptional English teacher and a wonderful dance instructor, but her cooking skills had never improved over the twenty some years he’d known her. Considering all the meals he’d eaten that she’d prepared, the Thursday-bagels-of-death included, Kevin was surprised his gallbladder hadn’t exploded by now.

  A sudden, sharp stinging traveled up his legs at mach speed. He whipped open his coat to find two gray and white, meowing furballs clinging to his pants. Correction, clinging to his shredded flesh via thin claws sharp enough to slice through steel.

  Swallowing down several curses, he unhooked himself from their talons, held them by the scruff of their necks and did a son-of-a-bitch-that-stings dance in the middle of the teacher’s kitchen, all while she had her back to him.

  He knew better than to rant. His younger self had tasted more than enough bars of soap in that very kitchen during his youth. Silence was his friend, and cats where Mrs. Avery’s pride and joy.

  “So, who are the newbies?” he managed to ask when the stinging subsided enough for him to not sound like a eunuch.

  “Oh…” she turned around, a big smile lighting up her face, making her appear decades younger. “That’s Daniel and Boone. Aren’t they just darlin’?”

  “Yeah.” Now that they weren’t imbedded in his legs.

  He set Freddy and Krueger down by their water, then filled the food dish because Davy and Crockett were sitting there giving him the evil eye since, heaven forbid, they could see the bottom of the bowl. Yeah, those twenty pound cats were about to wither away. One gust of that Gulf breeze and those two were goners. Cracking a smile, he wondered if the pampered felines knew how lucky they were. They’d hit the forever home lottery with his former teacher.

  He certainly appreciated having her in his life. Especially after his mom had passed from her long struggle with cancer. Mrs. Avery had stepped in, along with her quilting buddies, and made sure that he, Jen and Kade had square meals, clean clothes and a clean house in those first weeks. She’d always been more of a surrogate grandmother than former teacher or friend. He considered her family.

  While Grams prepared the breakfast he would soon consume with an antacid chaser, he took out her trash and recyclables, removed his coat, changed the water bottle on the cooler, updated her computer, then washed his hands. He knew better than to sit at her table otherwise.

  “So,” she said after they’d eaten in silence for several minutes. “Do you have something to tell me?”

  In an attempt to soften his mouthful of five-alarm charred bagel, and avoid chipping a tooth, he took a big gulp of cold milk and contemplated what she could possibly mean. Work was same old same old—write computer code, create computer software, wow peers, receive award, shove award in drawer and start over, with one or two seminars and exhibitions tossed in, like the one he was attending in Dallas tomorrow. No big news.

  As for his personal life, there was no big news there either. He took pains to keep it that way. So, why did his mind conjured up the spitfire redhead with the softest touch this side of heaven, and her sweet little girl?

  Because he had a cerebral error. He really needed to upgrade the filter on his brain, then defrag his mind-palace. And just for extra precaution, delete all cookies related to that tempting single mother.

  He swallowed down his soggy breakfast rock without gagging, or choking, then cleared his throat. “No, I don’t think so. I already told you last Thursday that Kade got engaged, right?”

  “Yes,” she replied. “I’m glad for him. What a nice, respectable young man. He deserves to be happy. Always helping others. It’s high time someone takes care of him, and Brandi is a dear, sweet girl.”

  “You know Brandi?”

  “Yes, we often run into each other at The Creamery when I go there to buy cream for my babies. They just love old man Fosters’ the best. Did you know his niece Holly is arriving from Denver this week to help with business while he goes in for that hip replacement?”

  “No.”

  Good thing his mind understood plinko, because the way she jumped from subject to subject could leave some staring into space, or with a killer migraine.

  “Well, she is. Nice girl. Business major. But don’t go trying to change the subject, you rascal.” She shook a boney finger at him. “I want to talk about you and that dancer.”

  Due to improper soaking, the last piece of bagel scraped the back of his throat, possibly taking a chunk out of his esophagus and a piece of his larynx on the way down. He’d barely gotten the milk into his mouth when she’d pulled the subject of Shayla out of her as-s-tonishing white hair.

  “Come on. Fess up.” His former teacher smiled bright. “I’ve seen Youtube videos of the two of you dancing.”

  While hacking up a lung, Kevin contemplated what had surprised him more. The fact the eighty-years-young woman knew about his dance with Shayla, or that she knew about Youtube.

  Both.

  He cleared his throat and stared across the table at the shrewd lady staring right back. He’d start with the safer of the two subjects. “You know about Youtube?”

  A slim shoulder lifted then fell. “Sure. I’ve known about it and used it for years.

  “Used it?” he asked, eyebrows raised as much as his interest.

  “I have my own account to post educational quilting videos, and some funny cat stuff,” she replied. “And you know I love to watch dancing. That’s how I came across your New Year’s Eve Dance Off.”

  He groaned. “Connor.” That son-of-a—

  “No. Not exactly.” Mrs. Avery shook her head and laughed. “It was his father, your former boss, Alex.”

  “Mr. McCall?” Damn, he didn’t see that one coming. “Why would he…”

  She shrugged. “No idea, but I’m glad he did. You weren’t even going to tell me about it, were you?”

  “It was no big deal,” he said, rubbing his injured foot under the table.

  “Bull hockey,” she exclaimed with a huff of breath. “That dance was magical and exactly what our charity nee
ds to represent us in the Harland County Spring-Dance-a-Thon Fundraiser this April.”

  Kevin stilled. Shit. He didn’t like where this was heading. His gaze shot to the back door. Could he make it outside before she uttered what he knew was about to come out of her mouth?

  A very bad idea.

  “I want you to enter.”

  Yep, bad idea.

  “With your pretty, redheaded girlfriend.”

  A very bad idea. He should’ve raced out the door while he’d had the chance.

  “Not sure that’s smart, Mrs. Avery.”

  “Why not? It’s obvious the two of you are sweet on each other. And you certainly both know how to dance.”

  Sweet on each other? He held in a snort. More like avoided each other so they didn’t rip off each other’s heads…or clothes to do an entirely different type of dance. Naked.

  “It’ll be fun, and you like fun, Kevin. Plus, it’s all to benefit underprivileged children. Foster children. You always help out charities my quilting circle supports.” She blinked at him, her shoulders drooping while her eyes lost some of their luster. “I was counting on you.”

  Damn, she was shrewd, playing the guilt card. Woman knew perfectly well he’d cave. She was right. He always helped out, usually with a hefty donation and manning a station at whatever venue the older women concocted.

  Kevin blew out a long breath. He was such a sucker. “What do you need me to do?”

  Her face miraculously brightened. “Exactly what you did in that video, dance with your girlfriend. What’s her name?”

  “Shayla, but she’s not my girlfriend, Mrs. Avery. In fact, I don’t really know her too well.”

  “Shayla,” the older woman repeated, her expression softening as she tried it on her tongue a few times. “What a pretty name for such a pretty girl. And I wouldn’t worry about knowing her because that’ll change once you two start practicing. I’ll expect you here Tuesday’s and Thursday’s, starting next week at six-thirty pm sharp.”

  Ah, hell. What did he get himself into? A rock the size of Gibraltar settled in his stomach.

  Or was that the bagel?

  He shifted in his seat and cocked his head. “Why so soon?”