Saddled On The Cowboy: A Hot Western Romance

by Amanda Heartley

  “God, Lainey. That was a helluva ride,” he said, smiling and panting breathlessly as he tenderly stroked my back, running his fingers through my hair and kissing my forehead so softly.

  “It sure was. I love saddling up with you,” I giggled.

  This was fun. Having such a good-natured man to play with and to enjoy was such an unexpected surprise after our move to Texas. We pillow-talked and cuddled and kissed in the afterglow of our lovemaking, then showered and went downstairs to the bar where a few hotel guests, slightly worse for alcohol, clung to their drinks.

  “What would you like?” he asked.

  “Surprise me,” I said. He raised one eyebrow inquisitively in response. “You’ve been amazing with the surprises today,” I cooed, still reveling in the pleasure from our incredible sex session.

  “Okay, I got an idea,” he said as I sat down at one of the tables. He approached the bar and when he returned, he had two whiskeys—one over ice, and one neat.

  “What?” I smiled. “Whiskey?”

  “This is a cowboy’s drink. Some like beer, but it’s really all about the whiskey, and this is the good stuff.” He smiled like the devil as he handed me the one on the rocks.

  “You’re not trying to get me drunk, are you? You’ve already had your way with me,” I teased.

  “And I’m hoping to again,” he said with a beaming smile. “But wasn’t it you who had your wicked way with me?” he suggested, tilting his head toward me and raising his eyebrows. “I seem to recall you were on top and calling the shots, right?”

  “Calvin, you’re the worst,” I teased, “but I’m sure you’ll get your chance.”

  “You can rely on it,” he said in a low voice then took my hand and kissed it. “Anyway, plenty of time for that. I want to know more about you. Like, what is it you love so much about New York?”

  “Um, this hotel, for one,” I said, looking around the room at the luxurious interior design and expensive fittings.

  “Because of the company?” he asked with a smile.

  I cocked my head, raised a finger to my lips and fluttered my eyelashes at him. “Oh, yes. Of course, the company is incredible,” I said, playfully. He laughed out loud, causing other customers to turn their heads in our direction.

  “Well, I love your sarcastic New York sense of humor,” he said. “Do carry on.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. The smells of summer when it’s so hot you think you’ll fry up and die. Even though it sometimes smells like death, I love all the different foods you can eat and all the different languages you hear as you walk around. Even though you have to squeeze everything you own into a tiny apartment, I still love it. It’s nothing like the big, wide-open spaces of Texas. Here you live right on top of one another. Rooftop terraces, fancy cocktails, Broadway, it’s just an amazing place to live.”

  I suddenly became aware I was becoming more animated as I thought of all the things I loved about New York and I’d also noticed Calvin’s face drop a little more at the mention of each one. It seemed my enthusiasm for something he wasn’t a part of was hurting him, but I couldn’t help that I loved it. New York was in my blood, the same way I guessed Texas was in his.

  “Sounds nothing like the ranch.” He tried to make his observation seem lighthearted, but it was obvious how he felt.

  “Well, it’s only been a little while. Maybe the ranch will grow on me,” I offered to try to console him.

  “Or maybe it won’t. I mean, it doesn’t have to. You should be where you belong and feel comfortable.” He was being reasonable and kind, and I appreciated that.

  “The problem is, I really don’t know where that is. Of course, I want to go to NYU and study, and it would be amazing to stay here with my friends, but my dad’s not here, and he’s the only family I have left.” I was already missing the old guy.

  “People leave their families to go to college all the time,” he encouraged.

  “Yeah, but he’s newly widowed. I’m sure he can hack it all by himself for a while, and he’d never tell me if he started to feel the sting of loneliness, but the evidence of it would be there. He’d forget things and start to meander in life. I saw it happen when my mom was first diagnosed. He just walked around aimlessly most of the time,” I confessed.

  “That’s normal grief, though. That’s what it does to you.” I knew he was trying to help me let go so I could make my own choices about the future.

  “Yeah, it was definitely grief, but I also think he was maybe preparing himself for loneliness. Like he was playing out the ‘what if’ in his head, and whether he could endure it or not, but I really don’t want to test out my theories. He’s all I have left, so I should hang with him, even if it means saying goodbye to New York. And then, of course, there’s you.” Now I was feeling funky and a little guilty for mentioning him last.

  “Do you know what I love about New York?” he asked.

  “Do you love anything about New York?” I was completely shocked.

  “Absolutely. I love that the city never sleeps. I know a great club where we can dance the night away. Are you up for it?” He had a delightfully boyish grin on his face. I sneered at him, in mocking disbelief.

  “It’s not a line dancing place, is it? Only I don’t have my hat and cowgirl boots with me,” I giggled.

  He beamed a huge white smile back at me.

  “I think they’ve been known to do a fair bit of shit kicking, but not always in a line, God forbid,” he said. “This is New York for heaven’s sake.”

  We finished our drinks, and he paid the bill. Even though it was late, he suggested we walk as he said he wanted to make sure I got lots of that Brooklyn air. He said The Bembe club was only about a half-mile away from the hotel, and I was happy to take a walk with him.

  It was very late. There were only a few people on the streets with most either hitting the bars, or taking a midnight stroll along the water. It was edgy, yet romantic. I felt warm inside when Calvin took my hand in his and we walked down the sidewalk to the club.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Calvin

  I felt electricity spark between us as I walked with Lainey from the hotel to the dance club. It wasn’t far, and it gave us time to take in the late-night scenery. I still felt apprehensive about telling her I’d previously been married. In fact, my ex-wife’s place wasn’t far from where we were.

  We’d spent a lot of time in Brooklyn when we were together. We had a lot of friends all over Manhattan, which she preferred, but I rather enjoyed Brooklyn more so when we got along together, she’d made concessions and—since we were well-known in society—we had several friends in Brooklyn too.

  I knew if we had any future together, I’d have to tell Lainey more about my past, but it didn’t feel like it was the right time, so I kept all that to myself and was content to hold hands with her and talk about other things until we got to the club.

  It was busy outside, but not as packed as it would be on a Friday or Saturday night. The Bembe was a Latin dance club that had great music, sexy dancers, a real vibe, and it pulled the city kid right out of me. There was a small line being managed by a hefty looking bouncer. I approached him, pulled out my wallet, and showed him my former business card. I pressed a twenty into his hand and he dropped the rope and immediately let Lainey and I in.

  “Woah,” Lainey remarked, amazed that we’d just waltzed to the front of the line. “How’d you do that?”

  “I have my ways,” I said mysteriously, “The Cosmopolitans they serve here are amazing, by the way. I’ll get you one, and I’m going to have a Glenfiddich.” I still took the lead, hoping she’d see a different side of me—one that didn’t just ride horses and wear a Stetson. By the look of wonder on her face, it looked like she was impressed.

  “Sounds good to me… whatever that is. This place is so cool. I’ve heard about it, but never got down here before,” she said, wide-eyed.

  “Glenfiddich? It’s a 12-year-old single malt whiskey, very smooth. Yeah, I
haven’t been here in a long time. It’s nice to be back. I’m friends with D.R., one of the owners,” I threw out, nonchalantly.

  D.R. was my ex-wife’s friend, but we’d kept in touch after the divorce. I used to travel between Texas and New York a lot, even after I’d left the oil business, but I hadn’t gotten out to his place much whenever I’d been in town. Hopefully that would all change. Lainey sparked the need in me to feed that silent part of my soul. The part I’d intentionally left dormant, because it was the part of me I least liked.

  I hated the greed, the in-your-face wealth, the power-hungry megalomaniacs who ran this town, and the game I had to play to stay on top. The oil industry was ruthless and cold. It corrupted my wife, but I wasn’t going to let it corrupt me. Luckily, I woke up and realized I was treading the same path, so I detached myself from it for years.

  Looking back now, I wasn’t a nice man. Sure, I was well-known, a man of great power and influence, but I’d become a total asshole. I left all that behind me, hoping to change to something more… normal—whatever that is—but in the wake of my escape from who I was, I also lost a lot of things I’d enjoyed, like dancing at the Bembe. Now, being among all the people dancing to the uplifting beat of the music, that inner part of me—the urbanite I’d ignored—had been re-awakened.

  We danced most of the night to the pulsing Latin rhythm. The room was hot, sweaty, and full of eclectic energy. We let our bodies mold together and gyrated to the samba drums, the tempting pulse in the air killing the cowboy in me. Lainey seemed happy, enjoying the music, and boy, could she dance—but there was something behind her eyes that didn’t seem quite right. She didn’t seem to be the same carefree woman I’d come to love and admire. She seemed suddenly distant.

  I wondered if being at the nightclub had sparked her longings for New York and the culture she craved while she’d been squirreled away on a ranch in Texas. Maybe the crushing reality of what she’d left behind was slowly filtering in. The melancholy in her eyes seemed to grow throughout the night and had me concerned. I didn’t know what had changed her, so instead of making my own assumptions, I had to ask her.

  “Are you tired? Do you want to leave now?” I asked over the loud, heart-thumping music. She looked me deep in the eyes for a moment, then down to the floor. Something was definitely wrong. “Are you okay?” I asked, concerned.

  “Yeah, I’d like to go back to the hotel, if that’s okay with you,” she shouted in my ear over the music.

  It was around three in the morning when we started our walk back to the hotel, and Lainey was mostly silent the whole way.

  “Did you have fun?” I asked, hoping she’d give me a little hint about what was going on inside of that beautiful mind of hers.

  “I did, but I’m really tired,” was all she offered back. “Thanks for a lovely evening, though.”

  “My pleasure.” I took her hand, and she held mine for a moment, then broke away. I wanted to stop her right there and confront her on her drastic change in attitude, but I also realized, I may have been getting a little paranoid. Our relationship was still so very new, and she probably was exhausted. We’d started our day early in the morning. It was nearly twenty-four hours later, so I decided to let it go. We walked the rest of the way in silence and we both flopped into bed when we reached the hotel.

  ***

  I’d had a hard time getting to sleep, thinking about what I might have done during the evening to cause Lainey’s mood to change so quickly. The next morning, I woke briefly and heard faint sounds, but I was too exhausted to get up. Seemingly, I’d completely abandoned the cowboy who rose at dawn no matter what, and when I did get up around 10 am, the room was still and silent. The blackout curtains were closed, and it felt like a tomb. My heart raced, and I immediately searched for Lainey. At the front door was a note.

  “Went to school, see you after. ~L,”

  While I quickly realized there was no need for me to panic—of course, Lainey would be with her professor, this was the whole reason for our trip—something still felt off. I showered, dressed, and had a light breakfast of coffee and fruit, and without much else to do, I checked in with my ranch foreman. No problems there, so it was time to buy some clothes.

  I went to some of my favorite stores and bought some hip and fun outfits. It felt good to dress in fashionable styles again. I loved my beat-up jeans and T-shirts, but a little switch up felt good. I got back to the hotel with my purchases just as Lainey arrived.

  She looked incredible, very collegiate and intelligent. I realized I hadn’t seen her in such fashionable clothing either. We both looked like quite the New York couple.… and maybe that was the heart of the problem.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Lainey

  Calvin sat in the lounge, reading something on his phone, and looking quite the GQ model, making my insides twist again. I dreaded approaching him—my stomach was in knots. I’d barely slept most of the night, though he wouldn’t have known it. I know he didn’t go straight to sleep either, no doubt wondering why I’d acted so strange toward the end of the night.

  I’d laid awake and just watched him. I forgave myself for acting rashly and making bad choices, but I was being honest when I made them. I made them with my eyes open. How could Calvin turn out to be so different to the man I thought he was?

  That’s what went through my mind the entire time I stared at his handsomely rugged face. How could this seemingly honest, kind-hearted man deceive me so completely?

  “How did it go with your professor?” he asked, casually.

  “Good. He likes the idea. There’s mountains of paperwork, but it’s probably going to be doable. I have to contact some children’s agencies, the school district, and look at some funding sources while I’m out here. I have a lot of work to do. It’s probably going to be boring, so I’m okay if you want to head back without me. I might not be as much fun as you’d hoped I would be,” I said, alluding to the fact that I wasn’t planning on being his toy.

  With all the thinking I’d done the night before, the only thing I came up with was that he obviously had some significant past he was unwilling to share with me—and that worried the hell out of me. Sure, we were still getting to know each other, but I didn’t want to get involved with a man who maybe had dark secrets. Was he a crook? A player? A serial killer for all I knew? The ease with which he’d befriended me and brought me into his life had me terrified that there was, perhaps, something more sinister about him. Even though it was hard to believe this kind man was anything other than he appeared, there was something wrong about all that was right on this trip.

  I kept running over everything in my mind. The flight tickets. How did he know the hotel we were staying in? How did he know the owner of a Latin club in Brooklyn? Why was the flash of a card enough to get us past the line and inside? Why was he sitting in the living room of our suite looking like a GQ model instead of a rough rancher? Why was he so at ease here in New York? None of it made any sense. He didn’t make any sense.

  “Lainey, it’s okay. I know you have a lot to do, I didn’t come out here for you to entertain me. You do what you need to, and I’ll do other stuff. Let’s stay in touch so when you’re free, we can be together,” he offered.

  “I’m just not sure when that’s going to be, Calvin. I have a lot of friends to see.” I knew I was being cold, but I felt driven to push him away.

  “Okay, I thought we might see your friends together, but we don’t have to.” He hung his head and seemed disappointed.

  “I mean, we had fun, but it’s not like you’re my boyfriend or anything.” Too late. My mouth had gotten away from my mind and there, I’d said it. Yep, I’d become a crazy, stone-hearted bitch and now I was sure his head would be spinning. What a difference a day makes.

  He took a deep breath and looked me in the eyes. I’d put it out there—me, the one who’d known him all of seven days. Wow, I was off the edge. He seemed calm as he measured his response.

  “Is there
something going on with you? Did I do something to upset you?” he asked.

  “Is there something going on with you, Calvin?” I countered. “If that’s your real name.”

  “What? Oh, I think I get it—” he responded, but I cut him off.

  “Who the hell are you? You’re this rough and gruff cowboy in Texas and now, in New York, you fly us both out here First Class, you know the hotel, the bouncer at the nightclub… Are you with the mafia? Some sort of organized crime syndicate? Or… or... a drug cartel? Is that really alfalfa you’re growing at the ranch, or is it…?” And that’s what completely insane sounded like as my mind raced at a hundred miles an hour.

  He tried not to laugh, but he couldn’t stop himself, and he let it out, uncontrollably. I tried not to laugh too, and I did a pretty good job of it. No mistake, I was pissed off, and mainly with myself for falling for someone I hardly knew. He wasn’t who I thought he was, but who was he? Had he ever said? I’d held him up to be my dream guy, and truth be told, he hadn’t really done anything wrong. I was just, um… so ready to find bad things, I also saw them in the good.

  “I think it’s time I confess,” he said after his laughter had subsided.

  “Oh, God! This needs a confession?” Now I was really freaked. “Please, don’t let it be anything bad.”

  “Well, probably not as bad as you think it is… or maybe it is? I hope not,” he said.

  “What the hell is it? Tell me.” I was shaking and sat down on the end of the couch.

  “It’s really no big deal, but I had a life here before I moved to the ranch. My grandfather left me the property in Texas, but before that I was co-owner of Ronco Oil, here in the city. I ran the company for several years with my wife.”

  I just sat and listened in disbelief.

  “Your wife? You have a fucking wife?” I was now officially in shock. Nothing made any sense.