Cowgirl Education: a Camden Ranch Novel

by Jillian Neal

  “Yeah, that sounds good. Sorry I brought all of that up now. I loved what we did back at my apartment, and I’m definitely not sorry you’re having a hard time keeping your hands off me. Not sure where all of that came from. Been a weird week I guess.”

  “You can bring up anything you want anytime you want. We ready for dinner?”

  “Are we eating in the old Sun Mart parking lot?”

  “Not unless you packed some kind of sustenance in that bag. I pulled in here so we could talk. I may suck at relationships but I am aware of how important the talking is. I was thinking we’d go get pizza at Isles. That sound good to you?”

  “Sure. I love their Leaning Tower.”

  “Like I keep saying, girl after my non-existent heart.”

  “Your heart is right where it should be. I’m going to prove that to you. I’m also going to keep asking you questions.”

  “I’ll consider myself warned.” I’ll also ignore the fact that I really wish you wouldn’t.

  “You said you figured out being a rock star might not be so great. What made you decide that?”

  Evie happened. His mind supplied the answer but his lips refused it, and damn it all to hell if his cowgirl wasn’t digging deep this time.

  He stared at her for far too long, weighing his options. “It was the drugs.” It wasn’t just the drugs and you know it. Dec steadfastly ignored his own mind trying to get him to make a real confession. “Every pound I made playing financed my own death.”

  “I read somewhere that addicts often feel like they’re dying their entire life.” Realization weighted her words. She was getting it.

  “It wasn’t just me that was dying. I did damage to everyone involved.”

  For the fourth time in the last ten minutes, Holly ordered her mind to ease up. He was confessing more, maybe. Even if he was still dancing around his truth, so was she. She had no right to take any more than she was giving, and she was far from giving him the truth.

  He kept one arm around her and managed his guitar and a gig stand in the other hand while he guided her inside a back entrance of Duffy’s. There was still equipment in his SUV, but he’d refused to let her help carry it. She knew part of it was his desire to care for her and to be a gentleman. She suspected another part was that he didn’t want anyone touching his gear.

  Nervous energy surged through her veins. The weight of this night sat heavily on her chest constricting her breath. Something about Declan, something about the two of them felt inevitable. There was no turning back from this and she already knew it. She wondered if he felt it, too.

  Every kiss they shared was more powerful than any orgasm she’d ever had with another man. There was nothing fleeting about Dec. In one week’s time, he’d managed to become a permanence in her life, the life she’d told him precious little about.

  He was a requirement. His touch, his laugh, that smirk that said he was telling her half-truths but wished he could somehow confess more, his voice graveled and deep — they had become as necessary as her breath. How was that even possible? They hadn’t even slept together yet. Her buzzing mind offered her no substantial answers. All she knew was she wasn’t going to be able to walk away unaffected this time. This time, she might not be able to walk away at all, and that should have scared her into running, but her boots were planted firmly on the floor of Duffy’s bar, clinging to Dec’s hand.

  “Holly, baby, this is Garrick Meyers, Kade Griffith, Andy Campo, and Brett Packston. They’re all basically a bunch of muppets whom you should waste no time worrying over. Since you are my. . . .” Declan leaned in, gently tucked her hair behind her right ear, and whispered, “We good with girlfriend?”

  Holly’s heart dislodged itself from her chest, performed a high-flying kick routine, and then settled somewhere in the vicinity of her throat. She managed a frantic nod. Holy shit. Girlfriend. Already. Clearly, dating men her own age had been a massive mistake. She didn’t give a damn how old Dec was, this was how real men behaved in a relationship. This was precisely what she wanted.

  “Good.” Dec brushed a kiss along the shell of her ear, sending a quick shiver through her body. Dear Lord, she had to get it together. She wanted his band members to like her, not think she was some kind of nympho only after Dec for his body or his bad boy ways or whatever. “Like I was saying, since you are my girlfriend, they should bow down at your feet, grovel, buy you drinks, defend your honor even if it costs them their own arse, and naturally behave as something other than the bell-ends they are.”

  Jesse, Garrick, and Brett all stared dumbfounded at Holly as if she might be some kind of hallucinated dream. Kade looked delighted.

  “Um, bell-ends?” Holly inquired.

  “Sorry, love, pretty sure dickhead would be the closest English to English translation.”

  “You’re shitting us, right? She’s like your little sister or something,” Andy declared.

  “Don’t have any sisters, and why would I be shitting you?” Irritation riffed heavily in Dec’s tone. Holly tucked herself closer to him.

  “He’s just joking,” she whispered.

  “Not joking, honey. Can’t quite figure why a stunning angel like yourself would want to be Doc’s girl.” Andy was quick to correct her.

  Doc? Holly hung on his nickname. Did he mean Dec? Sizing Andy up didn’t take a terribly long time. He was shorter than her with decidedly Italian features, right down to the surly scowl. She narrowed her eyes. “Well, you know what they say about lead guitarists. The way they finger those strings. It does something to a girl. You just play backup though, right? I guess you wouldn’t know.”

  Dec doubled over laughing. He was quickly joined by the rest of his band members. Andy tried to pretend he was unaffected. He laughed along, but Holly knew she’d shut him up for good.

  “And that should clear up any question about us at all,” Dec gloated. “As Andy pointed out she’s stunningly beautiful, and as you just witnessed has a wicked tongue and a wicked mind to go with. I am but her humble string-playing fuck toy. We like it this way.”

  Holly shook her head at him, but was thrilled he seemed to enjoy having her there.

  “Ignore both of them, Holly. It’s nice to meet you, and nice Dec’s actually smiling. You watching the show from here or you want me to have Scott reserve you a table near the stage?” Kade lifted her hand to his mouth and brushed a kiss between her knuckles. This kiss had no effect. When Dec did that she swore she could feel the brush of his lips all the way to her core.

  “I’d rather watch from the front if that’s okay.”

  “It’s fine, sweetheart.” Dec guided her back out to the SUV to finish unloading it.

  “Scared of what they’ll say to me if you’re not in there?” She called him on the move as soon as they were in the parking lot.

  “Obviously. Everyone but Andy is great. He’s got a chip on his shoulder so large his strap hangs over his ear.”

  “Was this band a band before you moved here?”

  “It was.” Dec grinned at her. “Keep going. I love watching your mind work.”

  “I’m betting Andy was trying to fill in as lead and was sucking at it, and all of a sudden you show up and now you’re getting gigs at the biggest bar in Lincoln and he’s pissed.”

  “Bloody brilliant and hot as hell. I have absolutely no hope of ever surviving this.” He planted another kiss on top of her head.

  “I guess the question is are you okay with that?” Holly stared him down. He felt it, too. He felt their inevitability, their permanence. She knew.

  “More and more so with every passing moment. Right now my only concern is how to get this concert over with as quickly as possible so I can get you home and indulge myself in you.”

  “That might piss Andy off.” Holly swallowed down raw need, trying to lessen the effect of his words unsuccessfully.

  “Andy can fuck the hell off.”

  Seated at a table less than five feet from the brick stage area at Duffy’s, Ho
lly tried to take another sip of the drink Brett insisted she would like. The fishbowl’s syrupy sweetness curled on her tongue. Dec pulled his hand away mid-strum, sat his custom Stratocaster down, and leapt off of the stage.

  “Let me get you something decent to drink. That shit Scott likes is not how I want your toes to curl this evening.”

  Delighted with his adept perception and precision, she brushed a kiss on his chiseled jawline. “And how did you want them to curl tonight?”

  With every lift of that pierced brow, she swore she fell harder for him. He guided her up to the bar and was immediately waved to the front of the line by the bartenders. He ordered her a Cabernet. When he offered to pay, they refused his money. Apparently, there were perks to being with the band.

  While they were pouring her wine, he wrapped her up in his arms, cradling her against the crowded bar. “My sweet little cowgirl likes it when I tell her all the decidedly naughty things I plan to do to her, doesn’t she?” He roved his hands over her back and discreetly grabbed her ass.

  Holly nodded against him. The way he understood the things she longed for but could never manage to fully verbalize flooded her with heated need. She knew he would indeed make her fantasies come true. He seemed able to understand the ones even she didn’t fully comprehend.

  With a gentle shift of his hips, he settled his rigid erection against her soft abdomen. “Do you feel what you do to me, darling?”

  Winding her arms around his neck, she nodded into that perfect cradle where his substantial shoulder met his tensed neck. She pulled him closer, desperate to feel more.

  “We’re standing in a bar full of people and when I hold you, Holly, everything else disappears. Nothing else matters. I want to make you feel things no one else could ever hope to make you feel. I intend to own every single thing I coax from your gorgeous body tonight. Every moan, every scream, every kiss, every mark, every single climax. All for you. All from me.”

  “Oh, God.” Had Dec not been holding her up with ease, she was certain she would have melted into the concrete floor.

  “Be a sweet girl for me for a little while. Be patient. But when I get you home, love, the very last thing I want is for you to be my sweet girl. I want you loud. I want you dirty. I want you demanding. Then I want you begging, aching, and naughty. All for me.”

  “Here you go, Dec.” The bartender slid Holly’s wine towards them and effectively ripped her out of the thick, erotic haze of words Dec had painted around them. When he eased back from her to retrieve her drink, the unwanted sting of abandonment stabbed through her.

  “Come on, sweetheart. Just a few more hours.” Another wink. Another flutter of her heart. Holly didn’t want any more of his agonizing teasing. She didn’t want to be patient for a few more hours. She wanted to be owned.

  “I do need to know one quick thing before I go do my thing.”

  “What’s that?” Holly barely recognized her own voice. It was distant and breathy. She sounded needy. That wasn’t something she ever wanted to be.

  “What’s my cowgirl’s favorite song?”

  “I don’t have just one favorite. It depends on my mood.”

  “Naturally. So, what favorite are you in the mood for tonight?”

  “You’ll make fun of me.”

  “I will do no such thing.” He looked pained she’d even suggested that.

  “Okay, well, I guess I Need You by Tim McGraw. The one Faith sings with him. It’s so sexy. Makes me think about you,” she admitted.

  “Why would I have made fun? That’s a brilliant song.”

  “I just figured you didn’t like Country.”

  “Not a fan of anything involving a lyric about a beer can, but there are Country songs that capture life better than any other genre. Perhaps I’ll manage to capture your heart as well as Mr. McGraw captured his Mississippi Girl’s.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “We good with the new setlists? I need to add one more after the last.” Dec tried to discreetly adjust his ridiculously eager hard-on as he made his way backstage. It was a quarter after nine. They were due to start within the hour. If there was an encore, they wouldn’t be able to leave before one, and there was always an encore. Dammit, he wasn’t going to last that long.

  Brett’s smirk said he’d noticed Dec’s rearranging. “New sets look great. Can’t imagine why you picked those songs.” He laughed. “Let me guess, we’re adding her favorite song to the end.”

  “I Need You by Tim and Faith. We’ve played that before. It’ll be fine.”

  “You’re lucky we already know that one,” Brett chided.

  Garrick slapped Dec on the back as he joined them. “We’re starting with American Girl, man. Little desperate don’t you think?”

  “Who says I’m not desperate?” Dec had no defense. He didn’t even want one. All he wanted was Holly.

  “Yeah, let’s change up the whole damn list for Dec’s jailbait.” Andy’s sneer tore through what little remained of Dec’s resolve. Rage shattered the heated blood coursing through his veins. In two quick moves, he had Andy caged up against the brick wall of Duffy’s staging area.

  “I don’t know what the hell your problem is, asshole, but if you ever refer to her as such again, I can guarantee I’ll bury that shit guitar so far up your arse, you’ll never locate it. Think you can get that through your thick skull?”

  “Andy, come on, lay off. What’s up with you anyway?” Garrick and Brett made an unsuccessful attempt to pry Dec away from his intended target.

  Begrudgingly, Dec stepped back. His muscles flexed, eager to drive his fist through Andy’s face.

  “You denying she’s barely legal?” Andy continued to tempt his own fate.

  “She’s more than legal. Just shut the fuck up. He’ll kill you. I don’t even think it would tax him to do so.” Garrick gestured to Dec’s biceps.

  “Whatever.” Andy grabbed a pack of cigarettes and headed out the back door.

  Kade joined everyone in the back room. With a quick study of everyone’s faces, he shook his head. “What’d he say about her? Wait. No. Don’t even tell me. I’m so sick of his shit, and we gotta get warmed up.”

  “We were waiting on you. Where you been?” Brett asked.

  “He was buying the guy at the table near Dec’s new girl a drink. You invite him or did he just show up?”

  “Name’s Wyatt. I invited him, but I didn’t think he’d show. We met a week ago at Panic. Fucking gorgeous, isn’t he?” Kade all but sighed.

  Dec’s fury at Andy was quickly replaced by hope at Kade’s obvious infatuation. Kade had it rough. His parents kicked him out when he was fifteen and attempting to come out. He’d gotten caught in a few rough spots and had ended up hooked, something Dec understood only too well. But he’d gotten cleaned up and was making his own way now. His family hadn’t spoken to him in almost twenty years. The band was his family, and Dec would never let Kade down.

  Peeking out at the large crowd, he watched Holly invite Wyatt to sit at the table upfront with her. Damn this woman. If he’d bottled perfection and poured it out, it couldn’t have been any better than her.

  She caught him staring from backstage and offered him that sweet grin and a quick wave. He blew her a kiss and wished the fans, the performance, everything but her away.

  The broad, beaming smile and delighted laughter he earned from her when he strummed out the first few chords of American Girl made opening with Petty one of the best decisions he’d ever made.

  The neon lights bathed the crowd. Dec couldn’t make out many faces, but the energy in the bar sizzled around them. They’d packed the house. Hundreds of bodies crowded the tables surrounding the stage, a few of them calling his name.

  The heady sense of fulfillment eased his soul. The electricity and thrill of the connection of humanity through music made him believe this life was worth living. It always did. You could sing any lyric to most any song and a thousand different people would sing it right along with you. What so
few understood — those thousand people all had a thousand different reasons for singing that one song, but in that moment they were united by the lyrics and somehow agreed to allow Dec to lead them home. It was a responsibility he never took lightly. And tonight, Holly was in the crowd singing back to him. Few things could top that. He knew.

  Wyatt sang with them all. Dec prayed Kade could see that. He prayed Kade felt the acceptance he was being offered.

  Kade and Dec moved back to back, bracing against each other as they played their hearts out for no one other than the two people at the front table.

  The buzz of the crowd swelled in Holly’s chest. When they played the opening to Should’ve Been a Cowboy by Toby Keith, she knew he’d done the entire arrangement all for her. Never before in her entire life had she even imagined having a rock star sing just for her.

  All she wanted was to figure out how to make this moment last. Anything that hadn’t yet been spoken between her and Dec didn’t matter. She shook her head when he proclaimed that he should have been a cowboy.

  He chuckled onstage at her vehemence. “No?” he managed while the rest of the band sang on.

  “No,” she shouted over the crowd.

  “That’s my girl,” he declared as he picked up the chorus and fell back to join Andy and Kade.

  They played a few newer songs, but the crowd became a dancing mass of delirium when they played the classics. Somehow Dec’s addictive accent disappeared when he sang. Holly found herself missing it.

  “Hey, Dec, what’s she gonna say tonight,” bellowed from Garrick as he kept a steady beat on the snare.

  Kade and Declan both laughed as Dec edged back to the front of the stage with the opening line to Rebel Yell.