No Accounting for Cowboys

by Leah Braemel

  Maybe giving him another chance didn’t mean she was a wimp. Not giving in might though. All her life she’d pushed people away, with her hair, with her piercings, and her biker bitch attitude. Maybe it was time to take down her walls. To dig in her heels instead of walk away.

  “If you really want me to accept your apology, you’d let me ride the Indian whenever I want.”

  Hope lit his eyes. “Darlin’, the bike’s all yours.”

  He still needed to pay. She sniffed and lifted her chin. “That doesn’t mean you can buy me, you know.”

  “No, ma’am. I’m not assuming that at all.”

  Swallowing hard against the lump forming in her gut, she nodded. “All right. We’ll try again. But we need to do some serious talking and set down some ground rules first.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” His chin dropped to his chest, and she heard a whispered, “Thank God.”

  “You’re still an ass.”

  His lips lifted in a smile, melting the ice block in her belly. “But I’m your ass.”

  “As long as you agree.” She hopped off the stool. “Let’s go home. We have a lot of talking to do.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He kept her trapped against the bar, his hands resting on her waist. “I love you, Paige. I meant it when I said, I’d do anything to fix what I did.”

  She couldn’t say the L word back to him. Not yet. Soon maybe, but it depended on the next few hours.

  Ben caught her eye and smiled then looked past her and winked. Following his gaze, she glanced over her shoulder and caught Allie tucking her phone in her purse. No doubt Allie had recorded it all on video.

  “I want a copy of that,” she whispered.

  “Of course,” Allie whispered back. “Do you think I’d deny you the best blackmail material you’ll ever have against him?”

  If this thing with Jake was going to work, at least she knew who she had on her side.

  Leaving Ben and Gabe and the others who had overheard the exchange laughing, Jake took her hand. Each lost in their own thoughts, wondering what to say to the other, they walked out to the Focus.

  He hesitated as he reached for the door. “You weren’t just bein’ polite in there because of everyone watchin’, were you? Because if you never want to see me again, I’d understand.”

  There was such fear in his eyes, desperation, that she touched his forearm. “You know me. I would have said if I wanted you to take a hike. I’m willing to give you another shot. It may take some time to get back to where we were, but I’m willing to try.”

  “Thank God. I was afraid I’d lost you forever.”

  The anger she’d clung to all these weeks ramped down to a flicker. “Let’s go home. We have a lot to talk about.”

  * * *

  Unable to believe she was sitting beside him, Jake turned his attention back to the road. Neither spoke again until he parked beside the U-Haul trailer in his driveway.

  Unable to take his gaze off the trailer, he cleared his throat. “Gabe said you’ve got a new job in Austin.”

  “Not really. I’ve hooked up with an entertainment accountant who is going to mentor me in Fort Worth for a while, but I had to agree that I wouldn’t open my own shop in her back yard. So I figured after I was done, Austin would be a good spot to meet potential clients. I’ve already taken on a couple of musicians. And I’m looking at expanding into managing bands’ merchandise. Like I was telling you...before.”

  Before he’d screwed up. Jesus. He’d come so close to losing her completely. Hell, he could still lose her. “But you haven’t signed a lease yet, have you?”

  “No. You said I had to be off the ranch by the time you got back so I figured I’d drive down tomorrow and look around.”

  Thank God, he’d opted to fly back instead of drive. It took all his energy not to drop his head on the steering wheel in relief. “You don’t have to move, Paige. You can stay here. You don’t even have to live with me. You could stay in one of the ranch hands’ places or in the hunting lodge over by Gabe. I’ll hook you up with Ruben or Stan. I’ve got the connections you’ll need.”

  Her expression was blank when she turned her head and looked right at him. “I don’t need your connections to succeed. But I won’t turn them down either.”

  Thank the Lord. He held out his hand. “Come on, let’s go inside.”

  And talk. Which made his knees wobble just thinking about.

  He unlocked the door to his place and led her inside.

  As she followed him in, Paige eyed both the suitcase and him then glanced away. A furrow deepened between her eyebrows before she sank onto the couch and hugged her knees to her chest. “So...how’d the rest of your tour go?”

  A safe topic. Hallefuckinglujah.

  The two of them talked, him telling her about the rest of the tour, and how well Phil was fitting in. And how Drew had dropped off the radar. She asked about the sale of their swag and their demo record. He asked about the courses she’d been taking, and her new clients. All very civilized, carefully avoiding the main topic.

  And then she asked, “Have you talked to your mom or Randy yet?”

  The weight that had started to lift from his chest returned tenfold, strangling him. “No.”

  “You’re going to have to talk to her eventually.”

  Why did people keep saying that? “She screwed up too many times, and fucked up too many people’s lives. Pop’s, Ben’s. Mine. Hell, maybe even Randy’s. Who knows what happened between them.”

  He’d certainly envisioned too many scenarios. “She lied to me last year. She expected me to lie for her. And I did. Willingly. Because I loved her and trusted her. I wanted to protect her. Even though it almost ruined my friendship with Gabe.”

  “I know. But she’s still your mother, and you love her.”

  Which was what had hurt the most. “Do you know what it was like to find out she’s been lying to everyone—to me—my whole life?” Maybe she hadn’t known he was Randy’s kid, but she’d not told her husband she’d cheated on him, yet pitched a fit to learn he’d cheated on her. What a hypocrite. He pushed himself to a stand and paced the room. “I don’t know how to forgive her for that.”

  Or for treating Gabe like dirt, even after she had proof that Gabe was Ed’s son. She’d dug herself a big, big, hole. With the anger churning inside at this point, he was more inclined to pick up a shovel rather than throw her a rope.

  “I can’t explain why she lied,” Paige said quietly. “But I can tell you that carrying around anger for someone can tear you apart. Trust me. I hated my mother for years. For being an addict, for exposing us to all sorts of shit—you don’t want to know what went on in that house when I lived there. I hated my father for a long time too. For not believing I was his kid until the CPS forced him to take responsibility. And then afterwards...he didn’t want me. Not really. I interfered with his social life. But I’ve made my peace with it. It got easier once I stopped focusing on the past and realized the future is mine to create.”

  Oh God. She was the one person who could understand where he was coming from and he’d pushed her away. He closed his eyes and cursed himself.

  “I am not saying you have to talk to your mother or be part of her life—not right away,” she continued. She clasped his hands in her and squeezed. “I’m not done here, so listen up.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He knew better than to interrupt a woman on a mission. And there was no woman all fired up like Paige was right now that he’d rather listen to.

  “When I met you, before you got that damned DNA test result, you loved your momma. Enough that you were willing to give up your best friend to protect her.”

  He nodded. “I did.” Damnedest part of it was part of him still did. The other part of him, not so much. “But...everything’s changed now.”


  “I know you don’t believe it, but she loves you. Fiercely.” She touched his chin until he met her gaze again. “I’ve been around her while you were away. She’s hurting, Jake. Because she knows she screwed up. And she’s afraid you’ll never love her again. She’s terrified she’s lost you forever. Take it from someone whose parents really don’t give a damn—I would kill to have my father care for me the way Cissy does. I know you’re upset, but that type of devotion? It’s not something to be thrown away.”

  “I just need...time.” To figure out how to forgive all his mother’s lies. And his father’s. And his grandparents’.

  As if sensing his fear, she cupped his face. “You’re still thinking a DNA test changes who you are inside, aren’t you?”

  “Of course it does. I’m not a Grady anymore. I’m a...Freeman.” Jesus.

  A soft smile warmed her face as she shook her head. “No. Believe me, names don’t mean anything. They’re labels other people have assigned you. Do you know what my given name was before my father took me in? Harmony Carol Boyle.”

  Jake struggled to keep his expression bland. He liked Harmony as her name, but obviously Paige didn’t like it. Carol—her mother’s name—would have been enough of a burden.

  “When my father got full custody, I begged him to change my name. I don’t think he could get the paperwork done fast enough for either of us. But d’you know what I realized? Changing my name didn’t change who I am in here.”

  Her voice strengthening, she touched her chest then flattened her hand on his. “You’re still you, Jake. You’re the man you always were, and the man you choose to be from here on in. You can’t change the past, but the future is yours to write. You can be or do anything you want.” She sniffed, then forced a grin. “As long as you invite me along. And don’t be a douchebag again.”

  God, he loved her. And he was so freaking lucky she’d taken him back. “I promise, I am never going to let anyone or anything get between us.”

  Her lips firmed. “And I’m not going to let anyone get between us, even you. I’m not going to just walk away without a fight, Jake. Not again. If I have to tie you to a chair to get you to listen I will.”

  Thank God. He couldn’t stop the tug at the end of his lips. “You have my full permission to do whatever’s necessary to get my attention.” He pulled her onto his lap, treasuring the feel of her in his arms. “You are perfect for me, Paige. You get me. And you won’t put up with any of my shit. And I’m lucky to have you in my life. So don’t ever let me forget it.”

  She wiggled on his lap. “I’ll hold you to that. And I’ll hold you to the whole tying you up thing. I know where you store the rope now, you know. And Gabe taught me some really strong knots.”

  “I’ll consider myself warned.”

  She cupped his face in her palms, brought his face down to hers. Swept her lips over his in a soft kiss. Forgiveness had never tasted so sweet.

  He cupped the back of her head in his hand, her short hair unfamiliar to his palm, savoring her as if it was the first time they’d kissed. He skimmed his other hand down her spine until he cupped her bottom and pulled her snug against him. So many nights he’d wondered if he’d ever touch her again, wondered what scent she wore that day—it was something musky and earthy, like leather and aged smoky whiskey.

  A quiet sigh whispered over his cheek was followed by a light pressure on his shoulder as if she wanted him to move but he wasn’t sure if she wanted to move off him. A huff this time. Exasperation. She climbed off him and stood. Held out her hand, waiting for him to follow her. “Come on. Let’s take this to the bedroom.”

  Who was he to deny her? He slid an arm behind her knees, carried her into the bedroom and set her down beside the bed. Her arms tugged at the snaps of his shirt, so he let his hands drop to his sides, giving her the control she demanded. Waited to see her reaction to his new ink.

  The moment she swept his shirt aside her jaw dropped and her gaze glued to the ancient lock tattooed on his left pec. Did she realize she was touching the tattoo on her wrist? The ornate skeleton key like the type that would be used in his lock.

  “When did you get that?”

  “Two weeks ago.” Right after he’d had the conversation with CJ and he’d realized what a jerk he’d been.

  She thumped her fist smack in the middle of his chest. “You idiot. What if I hadn’t accepted your apology? What if I’d told you to take a hike? You could have been stuck with this for the rest of your life. Or until you could afford to get it burned off by a laser. And that’s not a picnic from what I hear.”

  He circled her wrist with his fingers and lifted the tattoo to his mouth, pressing his lips to the key. “You hold the key to my heart. You always will. And if you hadn’t taken me back, it would be a symbol of what I’d loved and lost.” Wow that sounded cornier said aloud than when he’d practiced it in the tattoo shop. Yet he wouldn’t change a thing because he meant every word.

  She lowered her head and stared at his belly button. “And the next woman you fell in love with would have to forever live with the reminder that she was second best.” Her voice was thick, clogged with emotion. “That would go over real well.”

  “No.” He cupped her chin and lifted it until she looked at him. “Because there would be no one else who could wiggle into my heart like you have. Take it over so completely. I love you, Paige. Before you came to Nashville I was fixin’ to ask you to marry me. I had it all planned out. I’d stop off in Dallas on the way home, and buy you a big shiny ring and a bouquet of roses or somethin’, then when I saw you, I was gonna get down on one knee and propose.”

  She sniffed and blinked rapidly. Then frowned and looked down. “Well, you got the knee thing down solid. What happened to the ring and the flowers?”

  He touched her nose. “Don’t move.”

  A quick dash out to the car and a desperate search in his duffel bag, and ninety seconds later he returned with the trademark blue Tiffany box and opened it, revealing a two carat round brilliant with channel set diamonds in the band. “I figured you’d say no if I asked you right now. I know I have a long way to go to earn your trust back.”

  He closed up the box and set it on top of his dresser. “But it’s right there. And whenever you’re ready for me to pop the question, you just say the word, and it’s yours.”

  She sniffed again. “You’re crazy, you know that?”

  Not an outright no. Not a yes either, but he’d take it. He stroked her cheek until she looked up at him. “Yeah, I’m crazy in love with you.”

  A huff, followed by another sniff, then she reached for his fly. “I want you nekkid.”

  “As long as I’m not the only one stripping down, darlin’.” He tried to help when she couldn’t get the button through the hole, but she slapped at his hand. So he played scarecrow and left his hands by his sides until he was naked, his cock sticking out like a divining rod aimed right at her.

  He knelt at her feet, hushing her objection, and unzipped first her right boot and removed it, then took care of the left boot too. Standing, he hooked his fingers beneath the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head, dropping it beside them. Undid the button on her jeans, and skimmed the fabric over her hips, sweeping her panties down with them.

  Then he bent down and lifted her, laying her reverently on the bed.

  Her eyes were both languid and heated as she stared up at him, the tiny gold flecks in those smoky cognac eyes catching the sun slanting in through the window. Her lips were swollen, lipstick smeared from kissing him, and damn if that didn’t make his dick harder. He flicked the charm in her belly button. It was one he’d bought her in Nashville. A tiny longhorn that had reminded him of the Bull’s Hollow logo. Either she’d never taken it out, or she’d put it in despite him being such an ass.

  Reminding himself how close he’d come to losing her,
he reacquainted himself with every inch of her, licking the ticklish spot on her neck, tugging and tonguing the barbells through her nipples until she arched beneath him, panting.

  Only then did he allow himself to crawl between her sprawled legs, sheathe himself in a condom and position himself at her entrance. He’d intended on taking it slow, making it all about her, but being buried in her liquid heat, her tight muscles rippling around him, the slow pace changed to urgent thrusts, his thighs slapping against hers.

  She canted her hips and dug her heels into his ass, holding tighter. And holy hell, she could keep him hostage that way for the rest of his life and he’d die a happy man. As much as his balls wanted to reach their conclusion, he forced himself to continue, slipping a hand between them and thumbing her clit, tugging the tiny bar. With each stroke, she shuddered, inside and out, her breath changing to harsh pants, her fingers twisting his hair around them, tugging, urging him on.

  A gasp, and a groan, and her body around his, her eyes unfocused, her lips slack. It was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, and he couldn’t wait to see it again. His own release boiled inside, gathering pressure until he could hold off no more.

  He slumped onto her, his sweat slicked skin sliding over hers as he gasped for breath. And realized he’d found heaven, right here in Bull’s Hollow. Right where he’d left it.

  He crawled up beside her, and gathered her into his arms, holding her as she slept, guarding her like the treasure she was.

  A jangling awoke him and he peered through the darkness. The arm she’d rested on was thrown over an empty pillow. He sat up. Terrified.

  Where the hell was he? Some hotel room in...Florida or Georgia or wherever he’d last played? Had it all been a dream and he hadn’t gotten her back? If it was he would take a fucking sleeping pill every night in hopes of reliving that dream. Instead of living a nightmare of a life without her.

  He thumped back on the pillow, finally recognizing his battered Fender guitar that his father had given him when he was eight, one his father had played and passed on when he’d bought a new one, never imagining his son would quickly become better than him.