Not that he intended to spend any more time there than necessary, unless Shawnee was with him. He took another sip of coffee and let the memory of her touch and taste wash through him along with the caffeine, slowly reviving his brain. And he smiled.
Goddess was right.
Shawnee was a long way from perfect, but she just might be perfect for him.
* * *
Half an hour later, Cole ambled—it was damn hard not to strut—over to his own trailer. The morning air was silky against his skin, ripe with the scent of horses, cattle, and dew-soaked dirt. Rodeo, distilled. He dragged in a huge breath of the elixir of his life and allowed himself what was undoubtedly a goofy grin.
His good mood deflated with a nearly audible pop! when he opened the door to his living quarters.
For an instant, Cole thought he’d been robbed and vandalized. Then he saw the culprit glaring at him from the nest she’d made in the laundry she’d dragged out of the upended hamper. Katie had shredded one pair of underwear, eaten the remains, and hurked them back up again, a pile of blue slime on one of his white shirts.
Cole sighed. “Point taken. This time.”
She lifted her chin and glared harder.
“Get used to it,” he advised, as he began picking through the wreckage. “This one’s gonna be around a while.”
He held his breath as he stuffed the ruined shirt and underwear in a trash bag. His gag reflex was a fickle bastard. Blood and pus and gaping wounds, no problem, but a pile of dog puke could drop him to his knees. And don’t even come near him with a dirty diaper. He’d drawn that line in the good uncle sand before Beni was a week old.
If he had a kid of his own, though, he could learn…
He tried to shake off that thought. Getting way ahead of himself, and violating every one of Shawnee’s ground rules. But the image of a little spitfire with a mop of her brown curls had taken up residence in his head, and just like Shawnee, refused to listen to reason.
By the time he cleaned up the mess, showered, dressed, and wolfed down half a box of Wheaties—because yes, he was gonna need them—he only had a few minutes to saddle his horse and get to the arena before Shawnee finished up for the morning. Sometime in the past month, watching her had snuck onto his daily schedule, one more item that had to be checked off or his whole day felt out of whack.
This morning, she’d brought out her roping dummy—a life-sized plastic steer mounted on a cart. Mariah was pulling the dummy with Roy while Shawnee trotted along behind on Sooner. Her wide open loop curled around the wooden legs and scooped them up, easy as netting goldfish out of a tank. She wrapped her rope around the saddle horn and stopped the sorrel. When the rope came tight, Mariah swung around to face her, as if they’d just completed a competition run.
“Perfect,” Shawnee called out.
She released her dallies and walked Sooner forward. He dropped his head and stood, dead calm, as Shawnee flicked the loop free of the legs, coiled up her rope, and slung it over her saddle horn. He was clearly ready to rope some live steers, but she’d have to settle for the dummy until she got home at the end of the season and could hit the practice pen with Tori.
Cole frowned. The lack of opportunities to rope would be a problem if he decided to try to change her mind about taking a long-term chance on him.
Yeah, he’d heard her when she’d said they were finished as soon as her job here was done. But he also saw the way she lit up every night when Tyrell introduced the pickup men and they rode into the arena. Cole knew that look. That rush was his addiction, and she might not admit it under torture, but Shawnee was hooked, too.
She flipped the reins over Sooner’s head and crouched to unbuckle the skid boot on his back leg. Her gaze met Cole’s under the horse’s belly and, without breaking eye contact, she yanked down the V-neck of her shirt and flashed him.
“What are you grinning about?” Mariah asked, glancing from Cole back to Shawnee, who might not even know he was there for all the attention she seemed to be paying as she unbuckled the second boot.
Cole shook his head. If he wasn’t already a goner, he would be before long. All the signs were there. Falling for her might not be smart, and it definitely wasn’t going to be simple, but a happy ending wasn’t impossible. He didn’t even have to be an exception to her rule. If he wanted to keep Shawnee, he just had to hold her to her vow to be his for as long as she worked for Jacobs Livestock.
Then figure out how to persuade her to extend her contract…indefinitely.
* * *
As soon as they’d finished running the stock through and putting their horses up, Shawnee went straight to her trailer and pulled out first a jug of sweet tea, then her phone. Much as she’d like to put this conversation off, the friendship code dictated that it had to happen, the sooner the better.
Violet answered before the first ring ended. “Hot damn! I thought I’d have to call and pry the details out of you.”
“What?” Shawnee fumbled the jug and sloshed sweet tea down the front of her shirt. Ahhh! Cold. “You already heard?”
“Heard, saw, read the comments. That was a mistake, by the way. Don’t ever read the comments. Some people are complete dumb-asses.”
Shawnee set the jug down with a thump and more tea shot out the spout and hit her square in the face. She cursed, sputtered, and wiped at it with her shirtsleeve. “It’s on the Internet?”
How in the hell? Had Hank snuck a hidden camera into her trailer?
“Well, duh. A wreck that spectacular, you didn’t expect every photographer and idiot with a cell phone to post it online ten seconds after you knocked the dirt off your ass?”
“Oh. That.” The air huffed out of Shawnee’s lungs. “There’s not much to tell. It happened so fast, I didn’t even have time to pee my pants. The worst part is having Hank lording it over me. I’m gonna have to figure out a way to save his life just to shut him up.”
“That’s what we pay him for.” Violet took a breath, which was just long enough for the shoe to drop. “If that’s not why you called…you’re not quitting on me, are you?”
“Of course not! I said I’d stay until the end of September.”
“Is something else wrong?”
Shawnee grabbed a towel and crouched to mop tea off the floor. “That depends.”
“On?”
“How you feel about me sleeping with Cole.”
Violet responded with one ripe syllable.
“Look, I didn’t—”
“Hand me that sheet of paper,” Violet commanded, her voice distant as if she’d set the phone down. “No, the other one. Who had yesterday?”
Shawnee held her own phone out, frowned at it, then put it back to her ear. “What are you—”
“Dammit!” Violet swore. “How does she do that?”
“How does who do what?” Shawnee yelled.
There was a rustle, then Violet came back on the phone. “My mother. She won again. And she’s always so smug about it.”
“Wait a minute.” Shawnee gave her head a shake. “Your mother was betting on me getting laid?”
“Well, sure. Hank told Melanie that Cole had his eye on you, and I’ve gotta do something for entertainment. You should be proud of Tori. She gave you until after Labor Day. Said you’d have to inflict maximum discomfort before you gave in.” Violet snorted a laugh. “Gil was the real loser, though. He bet Cole was too sensible to try you at all. Goes to prove, Gil never has been an expert on good sense.”
Geezus. Even Tori’s brother-in-law had been in on this thing? “What did you do, post it on the bulletin board at the Kwick Stop so the whole town could join in?”
“Of course not. We kept it in the family. Plus a couple of the mechanics at Sanchez Trucking. And Beth, at Tori’s clinic. But not Tim—you know, Lily’s husband? He didn’t think it was seemly, gambling on extramar
ital sex, being a preacher and all.” A voice spoke in the background. “Oh right. Tori’s dad had you for this Sunday, because of the big Labor Day concert. And his executive assistant took Friday.” Violet gave an annoyed huff. “You couldn’t have jumped him last weekend? This thing is gonna pay pretty good.”
Shawnee ground her teeth. Great. A former United States senator and a minister’s wife were laying odds on her sex life. “So now I suppose you want a play-by-play?”
Violet made a gagging noise. “God, no! This is Cole.”
“I do!” a voice called out.
“Oh gross, Lily,” Violet said. “That’s almost as bad as when Ma tries to tell me about her and Daddy. No, you can’t have—”
There was the sound of scuffling, a few swear words, then a crow of triumph before Violet’s sister came on the line, slightly winded. “Dang. She’s a beast even when she’s knocked up and flat on her back. Okay…tell. How’d he get to you?”
“I…” Shawnee gave up trying to pour herself some tea and plopped down on the couch. “How did you know he would?”
“Like Violet said…it’s Cole. Once he sets his mind to something, he’s like a slow motion landslide. He just keeps pushing and pushing, and next thing you know, he’s managed to move you to right where you didn’t intend to be.”
Shawnee snorted in disbelief. “If that’s the case, how come he doesn’t have a wife and eight kids?”
“I assume he never really wanted them.” In the pause, Shawnee could imagine Lily’s soft brown eyes sharpening. “This is more serious than we thought, if the two of you have discussed kids.”
Shawnee snapped upright. “No! We haven’t…I mean, we have, but not like…shit. This is exactly why I should have steered clear. Y’all are gonna go making a big deal outta this.”
“You’re the one who brought up marriage,” Lily pointed out.
“I didn’t mean…oh, the hell with it.” Shawnee jumped up and stomped to the refrigerator. “Think whatever you want. We’ll be down here screwing each other’s brains out until we get bored.”
“Okay. I’ll pass that along.”
“Good.”
No. Wait. Not good. She wasn’t dealing with Violet here. Lily told her mother everything. Shawnee’s face flamed as she imagined the next time she saw Miz Iris and had to look her in the eye knowing that she knew. And Violet’s daddy knew. And Delon, and Joe, and hell, probably even Beni. The kid never missed anything.
Shawnee opened the refrigerator, remembered the sweet tea was still on the counter, and closed it again. “He caught me at a weak moment.”
“Oh. Your horse.” Lily’s voice softened in sympathy. “How’s he doing?”
“Good. They’re moving him to College Station next week, for the research project. I need to talk to Violet about how I’m going to pay you back…”
Lily made a dismissive noise. “Consider it a bonus for saving our butts. Cole was really struggling before you showed up. Besides, as far as he’s concerned, anything that happens on his watch is his responsibility. He’s sure if he’d paid closer attention, he would’ve noticed sooner that the horse looked wrong or was acting funny or something. That’s just Cole.”
Yet another reason Shawnee was the last woman on earth he should get attached to. She was a wreck waiting to happen, and he would never believe he couldn’t have stopped her from slamming into the wall.
“Did you want to talk to Violet again?” Lily asked.
Lord no. She’d said more than enough. Except…
“No.” Shawnee’s grin was pure evil. Because really, at this point she couldn’t make it any worse. “But tell her for me that Cole is amazing. Especially that thing he does with his tongue—”
She hung up to the sound of Violet taking her name in vain, and Lily giggling like a loon.
Chapter 29
“You sly dog.”
Cole stiffened at the sound of Hank’s voice, then slowly looked up from the flank strap buckle he was checking. He didn’t have to ask what Hank was talking about. The grin said it all.
Cole took a breath, stared him straight in the eye, and asked, “Do you like fighting bulls?”
“Uh, yeah.” The grin faltered. “Why?”
“You’re not going to be very good at it if I have to bust more than your chops to get you to shut up.”
Hank’s eyes went wide. “Whoa. Dude. I was just kidding, but if you can’t take a joke—”
“Do you see me laughing?” Cole made an effort to turn his face to pure, ice-coated granite.
Hank gave a slow shake of his head.
“Have I ever joked about a woman I was dating?”
“I don’t know. I was only about ten years old the last time—” Hank broke off and threw up his hands when Cole took a step toward him. “Right. No jokes.” He was quiet for all of five seconds. “Is it okay to talk about other people’s girlfriends?”
“Is there some reason I would want to hear this?”
“Only if you’d like to know that Ace’s woman is here. That Cordelia from last weekend.”
Well, hell. While he contemplated how this could possibly become a problem for him, Cole hooked and tripped the quick-release on the flank strap a few times to be sure it worked properly. The woman was old enough to take care of herself. Maybe beyond? At what point did she fall into the vulnerable elderly woman category? And wasn’t that her family’s problem? Besides, if Ace’s track record was anything to go by, he would shoot himself in the foot long before he got his hands on her kin’s inheritance.
Still, Cole would have to keep an eye on them.
“Hey, Hank!” A trio of young bull riders paused, gear bags slung over their shoulders as they headed for the back of the chutes. “We’re gonna tear it up later at the dance. See you there?”
“Uh…maybe. I’ll see if I’m in the mood.”
One of the guys hooted. “That’ll be the day, when Hustlin’ Hank isn’t in the mood for hot girls and cold beer.”
“Yeah, well…” Hank turned abruptly to climb up into the truck. “Guess I’m gettin’ old. I gotta get my gear on.”
The bull riders passed a glance among them, then shrugged and moved on. Cole stared at the truck door as it thumped shut. Hank bowing out of a party? Maybe he was actually growing up. Bigger miracles had happened, though Cole was hard put to think of one offhand.
Shawnee came strolling over from the stock pens, leading Salty. She flashed Cole a smile so bland he almost wondered if he’d imagined…but that wasn’t possible. His imagination wasn’t that good. The heat of the day was beginning to wane and all around them, the activity level was slowly ramping up. Contestants clomped past, leading or riding horses, chatting about tonight’s draw or last night’s runs. Cars rolled into spectator parking, spilling out families with toddlers, packs of cocky teenaged boys, and pairs of sleek, long-legged women, their clothes cut low on the top and high on the thigh with plenty of flash and fringe—what they considered cowgirl style.
Cole glanced over at Shawnee, in her royal blue Jacobs Livestock shirt and plain jeans, a rope slung over her arm and her hair corralled into a bushy ponytail—and imagined the shiny purple toenails inside those scuffed boots. Now that was his kind of cowgirl.
He waited until she stepped into the tack room of the trailer to get her saddle, then moved to block the door. “Hank already knows,” he said quietly.
He braced himself for the explosion, but she only nodded. “I figured word would get back.”
“Get back?”
“From home.” She pulled Salty’s bridle off a hook and hung it on the saddle horn. “As soon I hung up with Violet, I’m sure she called Melanie, and of course she called or texted Hank to see if he had any juicy details.”
“You…Violet…what?”
Shawnee stacked blankets on top of the saddle. “I had to call her.
It’s the code. You don’t sleep with a friend’s brother—well, practically brother—and let her find out from someone else. Oh yeah, and Lily was there, too.”
She hefted the saddle and turned, bumping him in the chest when he just stood there, gaping at her. She’d told Violet. And Lily. Which meant…
She bumped him again, harder. “This thing is kinda heavy, you know.”
Cole grabbed the saddle out of her hands and marched to where Salty was tied. Shawnee followed, propping one shoulder against the corner of the trailer while she watched him sling the blankets onto Salty’s back. “I should have known you’d be the chivalrous type. Does this mean you’re gonna saddle my horse for me every night now that you’re gettin’ to jump me? Because I’m all for emancipation but I’m also kinda lazy, so feel free.”
“You are not lazy.” Cole tossed the saddle on and straightened the cinches. “And I’m only doing this because I need to keep my hands busy so I don’t throttle you.”
“What? It’s not like they weren’t gonna find out. If I sneeze in my trailer, someone over here in the trucks yells ‘Bless you!’”
Cole strode around Salty’s butt and reached under his belly to grab the front cinch. “If that’s the case, then why leave me hanging until two thirty in the damn morning, when we both could’ve got a decent night’s sleep?”
“There’s a difference between knowing and bearing witness.” Her gaze went hot, sliding over him like melted caramel. “And if I’d let you in at eleven, we’d both be lucky to be standing upright right now.”
Cole fumbled the latigo he was trying to thread through the cinch. He had to take a breath to clear the fog of lust from his head before he could speak. “What about tonight? You said same time, same place.”
“I’ve reconsidered. You can show up after the rodeo, on one condition.”
Tougher in Texas Page 20