Warrior Girl: A Cowboy Romance (Wild Men Texas Book 2)

by Melissa Belle

  “It’s all right,” I assure her. “They had no idea what you meant.”

  “I don’t think Macey suspected anything. She’s sure mad, though, about you getting engaged.”

  I ponder this in silence.

  “I hate her thinking I’m getting in the middle of whatever you two share,” she says. “But you know we have to be all-in for our plan to work.”

  “Of course I do.”

  “She adores you. You know that, right?”

  I do. Macey would never say those words exactly, but I do know that.

  “But you better make sure you temper your feelings when you’re around her,” Gigi says firmly. “If my mom sees the way you look at Macey, she’s not going to believe our engagement is real for a second.”

  Shit.

  “I’ll be fine,” I promise. “Quit worrying.”

  Gigi gazes up at me as we step inside the guestroom my mother set up for the two of us. I spent last night in my childhood bedroom, and I plan to do the same for as long as Gigi’s in town. I don’t want Gigi coming into my cottage, and the less she knows I’m there, the better. I want to keep the cottage just for me and my painting.

  Gigi’s blond hair and big blue eyes still shock the hell out of me when I look at her straight on. She holds up her left hand proudly.

  “I do love this ring, Logan,” she says with a giggle.

  Gigi isn’t any more interested in me than I am in her, but she loves the idea of marriage so much she could fool anyone. And she fucking loves attention, so I fully expect her to act her part flawlessly in public. I’m far more worried about myself; I can’t normally lie for shit, and to pretend to care about any woman other than Macey feels damn near impossible. But I have to act my ass off in this role, or the whole plan is done.

  “Are you going to sleep in your bedroom again tonight?” Gigi asks.

  “Yep. Think of this room as yours, and make yourself at home.”

  Gigi’s eyes get even bigger. “What about for appearances’ sake?”

  “My parents are so preoccupied with the day-to-day that they probably won’t even notice we’re in separate rooms. And even if they do, they won’t say anything.”

  “Shouldn’t we at least pretend we’re sleeping together when my family comes to town? My parents aren’t like yours; they notice everything, and they also ask a lot of questions.”

  Crap. All I’m thinking is “no,” but I don’t know what comes after that.

  Gigi’s watching me. “I have an idea. We’ll say I want to wait until marriage. That excuse will work with both of our families.”

  I exhale. “To consummate relations or whatever?”

  She giggles. “Sure.”

  “Think your family will buy that?”

  Gigi giggles some more. “Buy it? My parents will freaking love it. My two older sisters were very rebellious before they got married, so my parents have always been stricter with me. Nobody in my family thinks I’ve ever had sex before. I have, though.”

  I hold up my hand. “No more details, please.”

  Gigi yawns as she stretches out on the guest bed. “My mom seemed to be won over by your southern charm and rugged cowboy thing. But oh, my gosh, I’m so nervous about our plan, Logan. We’ll have to really ham our relationship up in front of people, you know. I’m sure it’ll drive Macey and everybody crazy because you never know who’s watching.”

  I run my hand across my jaw. “You’re right on both counts. Macey’s gonna have a hard time loving the idea of you in my life, and in this town, somebody’s always watching. But don’t worry. It’ll all work out the way we both need it to.”

  It better. Because having to keep Macey at a distance tonight just about wrecked me.

  At the sound of my phone buzzing, I look down at the screen.

  Blake. My cousin’s like a dog with a bone when it comes to sniffing out a mystery.

  “Didn’t I just see you?” I say as I answer the call.

  “I have some questions,” he says.

  “Not a good time.”

  “Tough shit. You and I are going night fishing. See you in fifteen.” He hangs up before I can tell him no.

  I run a hand down my face. Yeah, I could blow Blake off. But then, he’d just show up here looking for me. Nosing around and trying to figure out what the hell’s going on. I’m going to do more to have to convince him my engagement is real.

  “I’ve got to go out for a bit,” I tell Gigi. “Stay here and relax. I’ll be back soon.”

  “Hey.” I drop my tackle box on the grass and sit down on the bank. The fishing hole stretches out before me.

  Blake’s already got his pole in the water, and he turns his head toward me. “Hey, Mr. Darcy,” he says in a voice dripping with sarcasm. “That is your new name, right?”

  “Fuck off.” I get the bait on my hook and cast my line into the water.

  The fishing hole is blissfully empty of people this late at night, and I exhale in relief.

  Finally, some peace and quiet. Except for Blake, who isn’t going to shut up easily. The lights from the street still cast a bright glow down by the water’s edge, and I can see his blond hair falling in his face as usual. Worse, I recognize the challenging look in his blue eyes.

  “Logan. Dude, I’ve known you my whole life. We’re not just family—you’re my best friend. And while a lot has changed, you know what’s always stayed the same?”

  I give him a hard look, but he keeps going. “You and Macey. It’s always been the two of you. Sure, you two refuse to settle down and so you date other people, but no one ever sticks around for long. So what does this Gigi chick have that Macey doesn’t?”

  A way to save Macey’s future.

  “None of your business,” I say.

  “Fair enough.”

  We stand in silence for a moment, and then Blake gets a bite on his line.

  For the next few minutes, we’re distracted as he reels in his catch.

  “Catch and release,” he says gently placing the small fish back into the water. “It’s all about the journey, dude.”

  I chuckle. “Good thing for you since you never actually reach any of your goals.”

  “Well, I’m no Mr. Darcy, right?” he says with a smirk.

  “It’s your middle name, too. None of us can get away from this town’s Jane Austen obsession.”

  “No, but most of us haven’t been anointed as one of the soul mates either. You know what I’d really like, though?”

  “I’m still not talking about Gigi. I asked her to marry me, and she said yes.”

  “Great. What I’d like,” he continues as if I never spoke, “is to go tubing in the river again. It’s been a while.”

  I narrow my eyes. “What’s the hook?”

  “No hook,” he says casually. “As long as you bring Gigi, I’ll bring the rest of the group. And I’ll set the date.”

  “You mean you’ll bring Macey.”

  “Among others.” He breaks form and abruptly grins at me. “You know I’m happy for you if you’re happy, right?” He slaps my back. “Your engagement feels…I don’t know how to put it…it feels off. But I’m ridiculously fucking single—what do I know?”

  “Exactly.” I return my attention to the fishing. “So stop being so fucking nosy.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Macey

  Wiping yet another tear from my eye, I take the peach pie out of the oven and put it on the cooling rack. I glance over at the buttermilk biscuits I just baked, but I have no appetite. I’ve been unable to bury my grief in food like I’d hoped.

  I met Gigi over two hours ago, and I feel just as bad as I did when Ginny and I finally escaped The Cowherd. Worse, really, since Gigi is perfect in every way. She may be spoiled and annoying, but she’s also sweet and cute.

  And now, I have to admit that it’s real.

  Logan’s engaged.

  To some other woman.

  I was far too confident in my ability to let him go. I was a
n idiot, and now I’ve missed my chance to tell him.

  Since we were kids, Logan was there for me in every way that I needed him. And he never asked for more than I could give him. Not once. And I don’t know that I’ve properly thanked him for always meeting me where I was at.

  So, now I need to do the same for him.

  I step out on my back deck and look up at the huge Texas sky. I wonder who’s looking out for me now. Because I know full well that this changes everything. Forever.

  I go back inside, throw myself down on the couch, and then pick up the afghan I’ve been knitting all spring. The red raindrop design in the center is nearly complete. In fact, it’s so close I could probably finish it right now if I tried. But I need a different kind of distraction. Human-interaction distraction.

  I return to the kitchen, grab my peach pie, cooling rack and all, and walk out the front door.

  As soon as I step out of my beat-up SUV and face the one-story ranch house where I grew up, my mind floods with flashbacks. Daddy storming out the front door, Mama screaming after him, and—depending on the year—Riley or Ben or Free wailing in the background while I attempted to soothe their crying with a pacifier, a bottle, or a hug.

  When Free answers my knock, she’s got her long blond hair up in a bun and flour all over her hands.

  “Hello, oldest sister and keeper of our dysfunctional family. I have good news for you and bad news for me.” Free wipes her hands on her cute pink apron. “But I think it’s all for the best, really.”

  “What’s the news?” I walk inside the foyer.

  She leads me into the kitchen, and I stand across from her at the counter.

  “I’m moving back home,” she says impatiently. “Weren’t you wondering why I’m here and not at your place?”

  “You know, I should have wondered that.” I lay the peach pie on the counter. “But I’ve had kind of a shitty day, and you were supposed to be at class and then dinner with Lana.”

  “Oh, don’t worry. My home school class was canceled, and that’s when my epiphany happened. Mama and Daddy are on the verge of something. And while I don’t really want to bear witness to it, somebody has to. And I’m the baby, so it’s my duty still to be the watcher.”

  “The watcher?”

  “Of their demise. Or their triumphant resuscitation. We’ll see, but either way I’ve moved home.”

  “You need to focus on yourself,” I say. “Let me handle our parents. I’ve gotten pretty good at it after a quarter century.”

  “But I like helping out. I got nothing better to do.” She gestures to the oven. “Except bake.”

  “You’ve got schoolwork. I know you’re tops in your homeschooling class and all, but you don’t want to do anything to mess up your scholarship.”

  “I’m not going to mess anything up. I’ll make sure to keep my full ride to the university, so I can move on up to Austin come August. So take that, Audrey Winifred.”

  I take a seat at the kitchen table. “Audrey’s still being a little brat?”

  “The biggest. She teases me all the time for being…” Free lowers her voice. “Single and…not with a guy yet, if you know what I mean.”

  “Oh, whatever.” I give a dismissive wave. “I didn’t lose my virginity till I was seventeen. You’re barely eighteen. It doesn’t matter how old you are; what matters is how you feel when you do it. Don’t ever do something because of peer pressure, Free. Things just don’t work out well that way.”

  “But your first time was good?” she asks me curiously. “With Log…”

  I cut her off before she can continue. “Yes. And I want yours to be, too.”

  “But I thought you said people never usually stay with their firsts,” she presses me. “So why should it matter that much?”

  I narrow my eyes at her. “Because it should. Because you deserve that. Even if it ends up as just history, it’s still your history, and you want those memories to be happy ones.”

  Loud giggling floats out from my parents’ bedroom.

  Free rolls her eyes. “If you’re here to see Mama, she’s pretty much tied up.”

  “Jesus.” I tilt my head toward the long hallway. “Did they even stop to have dinner, or did Daddy just chase Mama down to bed?”

  “From rehab to reproduction,” Free jokes. “Just be grateful you weren’t here alone with them like I was. Riley’s napping; you know she’ll sleep through an earthquake. Ben’s here now, though. He’s psyched he didn’t have to get up early this morning to help out at Wild Ranch now that Logan’s back and all.” She pauses. “I’m sorry about the whole Logan is Mr. Darcy thing. What a joke.”

  “Yeah. I haven’t quite wrapped my head around it yet.”

  “Well, you’re still his wife.” Free looks at my left hand. “Even if you moved the ring. You haven’t signed the papers yet, right?”

  Instead of answering her, I gesture to the pie. “That’s for all of y’all. I just baked it.”

  As Free returns to stirring the cupcake batter, I glance at the mark above the stove where Mama threw a pot at Daddy’s head and missed after the news of one of his drunken flirtations got back to her.

  “Ah, the memories,” I joke.

  Free looks at me and then at the mark. “I wasn’t alive for that one.”

  “Count yourself lucky, honey,” I say. “Mama dragged me to church with her after. But that happened any day she felt she needed to do penance.”

  I jump when I hear Riley in the doorway. “Geez, Riles,” I say. “You’re like a ninja.”

  Riley mumbles something incoherent as she takes a seat at the kitchen table. Her straight blond hair still looks perfect even though she just woke up. Her sweatpants and University of Texas t-shirt hug her curves to perfection, and her skin’s as flawless as ever.

  I think I was first jealous of Riley when she was a toddler and always seemed able to get Mama to laugh. Life came easily for Riley—from boyfriends to grades to her flawless looks.

  I’m nearly twenty-six, and Riley’s twenty but she looks my age, in a sophisticated, only-good sort of a way. She still has the same football-star boyfriend she’s had since high school, and she’ll probably marry him. And he’s perfect.

  “Why are you here and not at your own place?” I ask her.

  “You know I hate to be alone. I can’t sleep.”

  “Wink’s up at the university?” I ask her. “I thought he was coming home this weekend.”

  “He had a team thing.”

  “In May?”

  “He always has a team thing,” Riley pouts. “I never see him anymore. Except in bed when he wants loving.”

  “Ah, the sufferings of a star quarterback,” I joke. “He’s going to get drafted as soon as he declares.”

  “I know. It’s all he talks about.” Riley looks at me. “You look like hell.”

  “Thanks, Riles. You’re so sweet.”

  “Can’t believe it about Logan. I don’t know, I thought you two—”

  I shoot her a look, and she stops talking and reaches for my hand instead.

  “Your nails look like crap. You should come by the salon and let me fix you up.”

  “Just because you got a cosmetology degree doesn’t mean you know everything about what looks good.”

  “I’m the top make-up artist at the salon,” she argues. “I can do your nails better than they’ve ever been done before.”

  “And Mama’s thrilled that her two oldest girls are self-sufficient,” Free says, looking between Riley and me as we barely resist warring with each other.

  Free’s finished the batter now, and she pours it carefully into each cup in the baking tin. She opens the oven door just as Ben walks into the kitchen and beckons me outside with him.

  I follow him because I can’t wait to get away from Riley, but as soon as he and I get outdoors, I start walking quickly to my car. If I can just get my keys out of my pocket and get to the door—

  “I tried to call you.”

  I s
top moving. “I know. I’ve been busy. I’m sorry.”

  “Busy with the news?” he asks me.

  “News?” I don’t know why I’m playing dumb. He’s about to say it anyway, and sure enough—

  “That Logan’s engaged.”

  Ben says the words I detest hearing out loud. At least, not until I’ve adjusted to them myself, which may well be never.

  Before I can get away, Ben bends his head and looks at me. “You look pale, Mace.”

  I look at my little brother, at his open blue eyes and short dark hair, and I resist the urge to cry on his shoulder. “Yeah, well, I just met his fiancée.”

  “I heard she’s blond and model-looking. Alexis was in town earlier—Logan’s brother was talking.”

  I set Ben and Alexis up over two years ago now. And they’re not engaged yet.

  “She’s a goddess,” I say.

  “It sounds like an awfully quick engagement,” he says. “Kind of weird, don’t you think? Are you two even divorced yet?”

  “Basically.” I exhale and change the subject. “So are you happy to be done with your first year of college? You always were a whiz with computer stuff. And Daddy says you’re going to be working at The Cowherd this summer, to learn about running a business. I’ll be thrilled to have you there. You starting this week?”

  “Macey.” He tries to take my arm.

  “I know you feel like your college experience doesn’t count because you’re still living at home. But I can tell you a grade is a grade, and a credit is”—I’m running out of steam and I struggle to get the last words out without choking—“is a credit.”

  “You’re not okay.”

  “No, I’m not. But I will be. Don’t worry.” I tell him goodbye and jump into my SUV.

  I drive down the dark road toward my place, wishing my family visit had given me the distraction I’m craving.

  I need to turn my brain off completely.

  I’ve only ever found one thing that can do that.

  But with the only man I truly want permanently off the market, I need to start getting used to life without him. It’s time I stop holding onto a drunken night in Vegas and move forward.