The Most Eligible Cowboy

by Melissa Senate

  No, of course not. But something more than wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am, which was exactly what this felt like.

  Oh, stop it, Cassidy, she told herself. You’re not Cinderella. He’s no prince. She spied her shoes—one wasn’t lost on the castle steps, she hadn’t gone from her pretty dress to tattered rags—and slid her feet into them. This is exactly what you both set it up to be and he even made double sure you were in.

  So rescue yourself, she heard her mother say.

  She was feeling a little bruised, so she’d simply go get happy and enjoy her thirtieth birthday. Go back to the wedding, listen to people compliment her on the gorgeous wedding cake that she knew would be scrumptious and bring in tons more business with future wedding cake orders. Have her prime rib dinner, dance a few dances with friends, and then go home.

  And forget about Brandon.

  Nothing to see here, nothing to be mad about.

  “Well, well,” she said as lightly as she could. “We made good on the bets. We kissed. We made up. Now we go our separate ways.”

  “Forever,” he added.

  She turned her head so suddenly to stare at him that she almost gave herself whiplash. Forever. Well, she knew where she stood with him.

  He was dressed, too, now, but his bow tie was crooked, so she straightened it, aware that his eyes were on her. “Cassidy, I—”

  She waited. “You what?” she asked when nothing else seemed to be coming.

  “That was really something,” he said, holding her gaze for a moment.

  She felt a pang in her chest. What the hell was wrong with her? Why did she seem to be expecting something else from Brandon Taylor? Come on, Cassidy!

  “Yeah, it was,” she said, running a hand through her hair for more hay pieces.

  “Shall we?” he asked, gesturing toward the high wooden gate of the stall.

  There is no we, she wanted to scream. Instead, she calmly opened the door and walked out, then back along the long aisle of the stables and into the refreshing night air.

  The last thing she needed was for anyone to notice her slipping into the yard with Brandon. She needed to keep this their little secret. “Well, I’ll just scurry up ahead. Bronco is a small town and we don’t want to be the big gossip of the wedding. Everyone knows we’re supposed to hate each other.”

  “Actually, Cassidy, if people think we’re a thing, maybe they’ll stop telling me all about their single daughters, nieces and third cousins once removed and handing me phone numbers and cards.”

  “Yeah, that’s gotta be rough,” she said with a roll of her eyes. This was exactly what she needed. More of the Brandon Taylor she expected, the guy she always figured he was.

  He nodded earnestly, adding to her ire. Perfect.

  “Well, bye,” she said and slipped off her heels again, grabbing them in one hand and dashing for the stand of majestic trees that would lead into the backyard where the reception was being held. Pressing a hand against the bark of a maple for support, she put her shoes on, lifted her chin, and came through the trees.

  The good news was that the yard was the size of a football field, the reception area half of that, a vast space crowded with guests standing and chatting and enjoying refreshments. No one seemed to notice her as she slipped into the scene. The band was playing an old Bee Gees song. Cassidy headed to the buffet table, where she piled a plate with enough hors d’oeuvres to combat the effects of the champagne. She ate a smoked salmon crostini just as Brandon came through the trees.

  Goose bumps trailed up the nape of her neck. Damn it. They’d just been as intimate as two people could be and now they were back to acquaintances. She didn’t like how that felt one bit. She hadn’t been intimate with a man in almost a year until now, but instead of feeling all energized and yeah-I-needed-that, she felt...alone. Cassidy and casual sex had never mixed.

  At least she and Brandon had a truce, the old cold war settled. So now what? They’d politely smile if they ran into each other in the grocery store? Did Brandon Taylor even buy his own groceries? Probably not.

  But he could finally come into Bronco Java and Juice, a place she’d long suspected he’d avoided because of her. Good. She could use his business. God knew the Taylor Beef boys didn’t worry about the price of triple espresso lattes. Then again, she had a feeling Brandon would keep avoiding her, just for a very different reason this time.

  She had no doubt there were many women in Bronco he took pains not to run into.

  Cassidy ate a miniature mushroom empanada and watched as woman after woman chatted up Brandon as he moved through the crowd. Lots of cheek kisses. Lots of manicured hands running up his arms for no good reason. And there was Brandon Taylor’s dazzling smile, loving it, no matter what he said about the rough life of having phone numbers thrown at him all night.

  Now Sofia Sanchez, the bride’s very attractive sister, whom Brandon had once dated, walked over to him and kissed his cheek, and they were both laughing at something.

  Cassidy narrowed her eyes at them.

  She knew what this awful feeling was. Jealousy. And she didn’t like that, either.

  She turned away and popped another tiny appetizer into her mouth. Dinner would be served at eight, her cake at nine. Once the cake was served, she could probably sneak out and head home—and hide under the covers till the morning light and a new day that would make this all feel like a dream.

  Go our separate ways forever...

  “May I have this dance?” said a familiar deep voice.

  She whirled around to find Brandon holding out his hand. This was the opposite of avoiding her. Interesting.

  Cassidy was so surprised that she reacted before she could think it through. She put her empty plate down and took his hand. He led her to the edge of the dance floor and they slow danced to the band’s version of a Kacey Musgraves song that Cassidy loved. Brandon held her close and, with her eyes closed for a few moments, she was transported back to the stables, back to when they were one. All too soon, the song was over and Brandon was being called away for “extended family photos” with the bride and groom.

  Completely off-kilter, Cassidy watched him head off with the group, taking a path that led to the front of the luxe log mansion. She could still smell that delicious cologne of his.

  “Oooh, I thought you two hated each other,” whispered a female voice from behind her.

  Cassidy turned to find her friend Callie Sheldrick holding a small plate with a few hors d’oeuvres, her brown eyes wide with curiosity.

  Cassidy bit her lip. “We ran into each other is all. A dance for old times.”

  “I thought old times were bad, though,” Callie said with a gleam lighting her face. “You haven’t had a good thing to say about Brandon since I’ve known you.”

  “He’s a good dancer,” Cassidy said.

  Callie narrowed her eyes and grinned. “Something in the air between you two?”

  Cassidy sighed. “Probably not. He’s Brandon Taylor. Ultimate ladies’ man.”

  “Eh, they’re only ladies’ men until they fall in love.” Callie wriggled her eyebrows and popped a bite-size bruschetta in her mouth.

  Cassidy took in that golden nugget. She supposed that could be true. Not that Callie had much experience with players, lucky for her. Her friend had fallen hard for Tyler Abernathy—anything but a ladies’ man—a widowed rancher with an adorable baby daughter, and now they were a committed couple.

  The band started playing a Frank Sinatra song and Callie was pulled away by her boyfriend, Tyler, for a dance. The song was almost over when Brandon reappeared and, once again, Cassidy was in his arms.

  After the song, she would tell him to turn his attention elsewhere.

  “Look, Cassidy,” he said. “You probably expect the worst from me and I don’t want to live up to that, so I’m going to be very honest.”

&nb
sp; She pulled back a bit to look up at him. “Okay,” she said, bracing herself. She wanted honesty. She needed the second splash of cold water on her head.

  “We had a pretty serious conversation earlier about how we both feel about marriage...” he began. “Neither of us is interested in all that, right? I just don’t believe in commitment. That way, I don’t hurt anyone, either.”

  “And you’re telling me this because...?”

  “Because for the twenty minutes I was away from you, I wanted to be back with you,” he said. “I have a thing for you, Cassidy Ware.”

  She laughed despite herself. He wanted her to a point. Was that what he was saying? Unbelievable.

  “And so I’d like to propose a possible arrangement,” he added, “if you’re interested.”

  She could feel the smile slide off her face. Oh, Brandon. She sighed inwardly, exhausted, and it wasn’t even eight o’clock at night.

  “Let’s see each other,” he said. “Date. With no strings. Just two people enjoying themselves and each other. Like earlier in the stables.”

  Yup, this was exactly what she’d expected of Brandon Taylor. “I don’t think so. But thanks for your interest.”

  “I am interested, Cassidy. And, really, why not? We both want the same thing—no ties. And we’re clearly good together. So let’s have all the good parts of a relationship without the stuff that invariably mucks it up.”

  She’d said that, that she didn’t believe much in marriage. But was that really true? She wasn’t sure. She might not think much of relationships working out, given her family’s past and her own track record, but that didn’t mean the idea of a no-strings relationship held much appeal. There was just something...empty about it.

  “Well, think about it,” he said.

  She wouldn’t. But, for a moment, she pictured the two of them in her bed. Why was her body such a traitor? She stood there, looking at him, and yes, she wanted to be kissing him. Could they have a no-expectations fling until it ran its course? They’d get each other out of their systems. Maybe that was what this was about. The unexpected opening up in the stables. The rendezvous in the stall. The dances. A few weeks of dating and they’d fizzle, and then they truly could go their separate ways. Forever. With no one getting hurt.

  It wasn’t like she’d fall in love with Brandon Taylor. Not with what she knew about his romantic history. She had big plans and ideas for her future, all involving Bronco Java and Juice. That was her focus right now. Meeting her goals—which didn’t include a serious relationship.

  “What’s your cell number?” he asked, taking out his phone. “I’ll text you a ‘hi’ right now so you’ll have my number. Call or text anytime. Really. Any. Time.”

  She recited her number and, in moments, her phone pinged. “I’ll sleep on it,” she told him, but she wouldn’t give it a moment’s serious thought. Flings could be fun if everything lined up. But there was too much history between her and Brandon, too much...there. Cassidy couldn’t quite explain what that there was, exactly, but he wasn’t just some random hot guy. Or a guy she didn’t have feelings for. Her unexpected disappointment at the way she’d felt dismissed at the stables came flooding back. The sex over, there had been no conversation, just one clasp of the hands that she’d foolishly read way too much into. And then, Well, I guess we’d better get back to the wedding or someone might send a search party for us.

  That was what being involved with Brandon would be like. Cassidy just wasn’t cut out for that. Maybe if she didn’t care—again, about what exactly she didn’t know. But she did care.

  He was pulled away yet again—more family pictures. Then it was time for dinner, so everyone took their seats. Brandon was at the family table.

  Cassidy had been invited to the wedding by the bride herself, who’d been so kind to offer her the job of catering dessert. She checked her table number. Fourteen. She was far, far away from the family table, which was a good thing. She needed a break from Brandon Taylor. And she also needed that prime rib to sober her up even more. But as she headed for her table, which seemed to be filled with singles, she felt eyes on her and, when she glanced around, she saw the very elderly Winona Cobbs, with her purple cowboy hat and snazzy silver boa around her neck, staring at her with a strange smile.

  Cassidy felt a chill go through her. Winona was psychic. Everyone knew that. She had her own little shop, Wisdom by Winona. Maybe Cassidy would stop in sometime and get herself a reading. Right about now, she could use a look into her future.

  * * *

  A few days later, Brandon sat at his desk in his home office on the first floor of the family ranch, trying to focus on the spreadsheet of numbers and accompanying graphs. Brandon was an executive vice president at Taylor Beef, which had its own office building, but he’d stayed close to home since the wedding. Since Cassidy. Right now he was supposed to be analyzing projected third-quarter sales figures, but all he could think about was her.

  Thing was, his mind wasn’t on what it was usually on when he thought about a woman he was very attracted to. Usually, he’d go over every delectable detail of their time together in anticipation of the next time. That would have him calling and texting. Instead, he was thinking about Cassidy herself. The girl he remembered—smart and opinionated and full of ideas and plans for herself. The woman she was now—a surprise. He hadn’t expected to feel so...connected, as if they were on the same plane, same page. He’d thought they’d be like oil and water and instead they were like milk and cookies.

  He could count on one hand the number of times he’d felt like that about a woman he was dating. Three times, to be exact.

  Marley O’Kane’s beautiful face appeared like a scary mask in his mind’s eye. The former Miss Mid-Region Montana who “couldn’t afford to pay for her gravely ill, beloved granny’s cancer treatment” turned out to be a grifting liar. “Granny” was really a boyfriend in perfect health with a gambling addiction and a loan shark after him. Marley was a decent actress who’d actually studied up on Brandon to win him over because he was a Taylor and she’d thought her model-like looks would earn her some blank checks. He’d been twenty-two and about to write that first check to Marley until his sister had sat him down and reported seeing Marley and another man all over each other at an Italian restaurant. A look into her background had revealed everything.

  It had taken two years to get past his stupidity and gullibility and to let himself feel something again for a woman he was dating. Didi Philbin might not have been a duplicitous cheat like Marley, but after six months, she’d broken up with him for someone else, and he’d been blindsided and more damned hurt than he’d admitted to anyone.

  He’d let a good few years pass before he’d fallen for another woman, but he’d apparently had so many walls up that she’d told him being in a relationship with him was like being involved with a brick wall and that she’d had enough of trying to break through. His first reaction was that he’d work on it, he’d try, but not one brick dislodged and the lady had moved on.

  So Brandon had stuck to flings and short-term romances where his lack of interest in commitment was stated up front. No one had gotten under his skin in a few years now, and Brandon found he liked it that way. There was something peaceful about it.

  Except now he couldn’t get Cassidy Ware out of his head. And that wasn’t a good thing. Between his track record and his family history, he’d never commit and he’d never marry. His father had plenty of offspring to carry on the Taylor name. Jordan and Camilla would likely be giving Cornelius a new generation of heirs in no time. The way Brandon saw it, people either walked out on you or disappointed you or operated conditionally. And he was certainly no different or better than most. Ask any of the women he’d dated the past few years, many whom had deserved better than they’d gotten from him.

  So in the few days since their night together, he hadn’t gotten in touch with Cassidy. No
t a word. That didn’t sit right, but every time he grabbed his phone with the intention of sending a lighthearted text, he put it back in his pocket. And he felt all unsettled. Their last conversation had been about casual sex. A no-strings affair. Cassidy had agreed to “sleep on it,” though he’d known full well she’d tell him to jump in a lake. Of course, she hadn’t called or texted, either, to give her answer. So there was Brandon’s “no.” That was a good thing.

  We kissed and made up and went our separate ways. Forever.

  The idea of that—the word forever—left him weirdly unsettled, too.

  He should just continue on, focus on work, and in a week or two, he’d barely remember the night in the stables. The Cassidy question settled somewhat, he picked up the printout of graphs on the quarter’s numbers.

  Before he could even attempt to concentrate, Brandon heard heavy footsteps approaching, which could only be his father. Cornelius Taylor was an imposing man, tall, like his sons, at six feet three with a shock of silver hair usually covered by a Stetson.

  “Ah, just the son I wanted to see,” his dad said, his large frame filling the doorway. “I have a surprise for you. Just turn around and take a look out the window and tell me what you think.”

  Probably a new horse, Brandon thought as he raised an eyebrow at his dad. Brandon’s true passion on the ranch was the horses, but with a foreman, stable manager and many cowboys and cowgirls, the horses were covered. Brandon was a numbers guy, and Taylor Beef was about cattle, so his area of expertise had focused on that.

  Brandon wheeled his chair around and looked out past the wide front porch to the vast property, the gorgeous view of land and trees and sky. He noticed a woman, a twentysomething brunette in a tight white dress and high heels, holding some kind of tablet and looking around. He had no idea who she was.

  “She’s single,” his dad said. “Comes from a great family. Know the Farringtons? Relatively new to Bronco Heights. Bought the Double G.”