In a Cowboy’s Bed

by Cat Johnson

  It didn’t matter who was behind the camera, Heather’s insides still twisted with the knowledge she was being bad, and she wanted to be badder. She could totally see how girls let their boyfriends take pictures of them like this. Pictures that more often than not ended up on the Internet. But the lure of feeling naughty, sexy, like a woman was strong, and it was totally doing it for her.

  Her mind went to bad places. What if Kienan were here? If he were the one taking the photos? She craved him now, even as awkward and unsatisfying as their few attempts at sex had been. How good would it be to feel so aroused and have him plunge into her from behind? Grab her hips and—

  “Eyes on me.”

  She’d begun to drift in her own thoughts. Heather raised her gaze again and concentrated on the lens. Kienan wasn’t here. No man was, because she had no man in her life because she had no life. No life other than working, and then only at what her mother decided she could do.

  The memory of the role she’d missed out on because of her mother had her getting angry all over again. What could she do? She was under the power that woman wielded. The power Heather had given her years ago.

  She needed to get away. Have an adventure all on her own. God, had she ever truly been alone? If she could get away, she might be able to find a man who made her feel like the woman she was inside.

  “Sit up and cross your arms in front of your chest, and fold your right leg over the left one.”

  Heather covered the hard peaks of her nipples, hoping the crew would assume it was from the air-conditioning and not because she was aroused imagining what she could do with a man if she ever got away from her mother. What would it feel like to have someone treat her like a beautiful woman, not like a spoiled star or a child actress?

  “Chin down. Eyes up.”

  She raised her eyes and made a decision. The one way to get free was to run away, and there was no better time than the present.

  “That’s it. I think we’ve got it.” The photographer lowered the camera and smiled. “A few of these shots . . . Heather, they’re cover worthy.”

  “Really?” With her heart beating faster just at the thought of a cover, Heather pulled the robe an assistant had dropped on her shoulders around her. Kristen Stewart had been on the cover of Vanity Fair. This was huge.

  “Really. Absolutely unbelievable. I’m so happy you changed your mind.”

  Heather returned Annie’s smile. “I am, too.”

  “So I’ll send the proofs to your manager’s office?” The older woman began arranging camera lenses on the table in front of her.

  “No!” When everyone in the room turned to Heather, she backpedaled and searched for an excuse. “Uh, my agent needs to see them first, so send them to him, not my manager since she’s, uh, away. He’ll make sure I get them. Do you have the address?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, great. Thanks.” Heather clutched the front of the robe a little tighter. “I’m just going to go get dressed.”

  “Of course. And thank you. It was a pleasure working with you.”

  “The pleasure was all mine.” Relieved they had gotten through the shoot without her mother storming through the door, and even more so that she’d gotten away with her lie as to why the proofs couldn’t go to her mother’s office, Heather felt almost giddy.

  Now, where to go?

  Anywhere but here seemed the logical answer. In her tote bag, she had credit cards, makeup, and her gym clothes because she’d planned on working out after this. That was enough. What else could she need? She’d get in her car and just drive west. Though she’d been to California a million times. Maybe south. Maybe southwest. It didn’t matter. This was going to be an adventure, and not knowing where she was headed was half the fun.

  She dressed fast, at least fast for her, and was headed for her car when she spotted the usual paparazzi hanging around outside.

  “Crap.” She skidded to a halt and stepped back from the studio’s glass door.

  Kim, the girl who’d done her makeup, nearly crashed into her when she stopped. “What’s wrong?”

  Heather tilted her head toward the parking lot. “My shadows are outside.”

  “That must suck having them bugging you all the time.” Kim glanced out the door and wrinkled her nose.

  “You have no idea.” Particularly today, when she’d been about to get away.

  “There’s a door around back, you know. In case you want to sneak out that way. That’s where I park my car.”

  “But my car’s out front . . .” The idea struck from out of nowhere, like lightning on a clear summer night. A plan began to form. “Your car is out back?”

  “Mmm, hmm. The owner of the studio doesn’t like my POS in front of the building where clients can see.”

  “POS?”

  “Piece of shit.” Kim had leaned in and kept her voice low, probably so the owner didn’t hear.

  Heather smiled. A piece of shit was exactly what she needed at the moment. “How would you like to swap cars with me for a little while so I can get out of here without them seeing me?” She held up the BMW’s keys as an enticement.

  The girl’s eyes opened wider. “You’d let me drive your car?”

  “Sure, for as long as I’m driving your car. It could be awhile, though. At least a few days. Maybe a week?” Who knew where the spirit would take her? Hopefully far away from her mother and the paparazzi both.

  Kim’s gaze cut to the parking lot. “Is it that little baby blue convertible?”

  “Mmm-hmm.” Heather could read people, and she could feel it. She had this one in the bag. Kim practically salivated over the car.

  “All right. I’ll go get my keys and show you which one is mine.”

  “Sounds good.” She followed Kim to the back. As she waited for the obviously excited girl to get her keys, Heather found her baseball hat in her bag. She wrestled it over her curls as a disguise. Not that she’d need one. The photographers would be watching the BMW in the front, not the POS in the back.

  She couldn’t have planned this more perfectly if she’d tried.

  A definite chill pervaded the silence inside the cab of the pickup truck, and Ned was sure it wasn’t only from the air-conditioning. He glanced at Ben’s profile. “Are you still mad at me?”

  “What do you think?” Ben kept his jaw set and his eyes on the dark Oklahoma highway ahead, but Ned didn’t miss the way his knuckles tightened on the steering wheel.

  “Fine. Whatever.” He rolled his eyes. Let Ben be mad. It was no skin off his back if he stayed angry with him for the next week. Though he wouldn’t mind a cold beer. “Hey, you wanna stop at the bar for a quick one?”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” Now Ben did turn his head to look at Ned, but it was to glare at him.

  “No, I want a beer.” And if they’d taken his truck to the feed store instead of Ben’s, Ned would be behind the wheel and the truck would already be pulling into the parking lot of the bar. Ben drove like somebody’s grandfather. Slow. Careful. It was all Ned could do not to reach his leg over and mash his foot on the accelerator. “You know, maybe a beer would loosen you up a little.”

  Maybe after a few, Ben would stop being such a giant ass.

  “I don’t need loosening up. What I need is for you to stop acting like a teenager and stop putting our livelihood at risk so you can get laid.” Ben scowled.

  “How does my getting laid put our business at risk?” Ned frowned at the notion.

  “First off, if you go to jail, I’ll have to run the place all alone. You know as well as I do it’s not a one-man job.”

  “I’m not going to go to jail.” Ned countered Ben’s logic.

  “And even if by some miracle you don’t get put away,” Ben kept right on going, as if Ned had never spoken, “just you getting convicted for having sex with that underage girl will classify you as a sex offender. Do you really think we’ll be able to keep the rough stock contract with OSU? No. No respectable organization, and
certainly not a college, will have anything to do with us then.”

  He hadn’t considered that part. It was a sweet contract B&N Ranch had, getting paid to supply rough stock for the Oklahoma State rodeo team’s practice a couple of times a week. It was a nice, steady income that carried them in the slow season when rodeos were few and far between, and bills outweighed income. It would hurt to lose it. But still, why should he be blamed for something that wasn’t his fault? It wasn’t fair.

  “You know she lied to me, Ben. The bartender served her alcohol right in front of me, which should have meant she was twenty-one. He should be in trouble, not me.”

  “The bartender who works at the bar where you want to go get a beer now? You think he’s going to welcome you with open arms, given your entire legal defense rests on getting him in trouble for serving an underage girl instead of you for fucking her?” Ben pointed out.

  Hmm. Ned hadn’t thought of that either. “All right. Then stop at the store and I’ll pick up a six-pack.”

  That would be cheaper anyway, though the scenery at home wasn’t half as entertaining as what they might find out. All he’d get to see back at the ranch was Ben, glaring at him as if he’d murdered someone or something equally heinous.

  Ben seriously needed to get laid. Maybe then he’d chill out a little. Have some fun the way they used to when they’d rodeoed together. With another glance at Ben’s stone-faced profile, Ned decided to keep that suggestion to himself. Maybe he’d take his beer outside and drink it on the porch tonight.

  Deciding it was best to let Ben get over his little hissy fit in silence, Ned concentrated on staring out the side window of the truck at the less than inspiring passing scenery. Same old shit that was there yesterday, and last year, and last decade. Nothing exciting ever happened in this town.

  Then again, maybe it did. “Pull over.”

  “What? Why?”

  Ned tried to catch another glimpse of the girl they’d just passed along the side of the road. “There’s a car pulled off the road with the hood up and a girl all alone. She needs help.”

  Ben glanced in the rearview mirror while slowing the truck to a stop. “You’re just a regular Boy Scout, aren’t you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, if that were a man along the side of the road having car trouble, you wouldn’t have looked twice at him.”

  Ned frowned. “If that were a man, he wouldn’t need our help. He could fix his own damn car.”

  Ben shook his head, but since he’d maneuvered the truck into a U-turn and they were heading back toward the damsel in distress, Ned didn’t see the need to pursue the pointless argument any further. He’d gotten what he wanted. They were going to help the girl.

  When the headlights caught her heart-shaped ass, stuck out in a most tempting way as she peered into the engine, it was certain she was no man and she definitely needed some help. He’d like to start by helping her out of those pants, but that would have to wait . . . at least until he got rid of his stick-in-the-mud sidekick.

  Once the truck was parked, facing the car’s front grill so the lights illuminated the engine under the open hood, Ned swung the passenger’s door wide and stepped down. His boots crunched in the dirt and pebbles along the edge of highway where nothing grew but weeds. She straightened, standing upright now and facing them.

  The front view was as enticing as the rear view had been. She held her hand in front of her eyes to block the glare of the headlights, but he could still tell she was a looker. The tumble of hair curling around her face and down over her shoulders made Ned itch to tangle his hands in it. Yank her head back and claim those cupid’s bow lips of hers.

  “Having a bit of trouble?” He knocked his cowboy hat back and tried not to sound intimidating since he could tell just from the tension radiating off the girl, she was a little nervous about being stranded alone on a dark highway with two men. She must not be from around here. The biggest crime in these parts was drunk driving, which was why the authorities were making such a big fucking deal about Ned’s little incident with the underage girl.

  Remembering that, he took a closer look at this one. She was young, but not that young. Of course, that’s what he’d thought about the last one. Damn girls nowadays looked too frigging old for their own good.

  “Yeah, it started to rattle and then sputter and smoke and smell . . .” She let out a big sigh. “I don’t know what’s wrong with it. It’s not even mine. I’ve been driving since this morning. Maybe it got too hot?”

  Ben, out of the truck now, too, stepped up to the engine. “Just driving it shouldn’t make it overheat unless you’re low on fluids. Did you check your oil and coolant?”

  He was already rolling up his shirtsleeves when she moved closer to the car and stared from the engine to Ben. “No, I wouldn’t even begin to know how.”

  Her tinkling laugh had Ned jealous he wasn’t over there next to her where Ben was. It was Ned who’d talked him into stopping in the first place. He should get first crack at her.

  “Driving since this morning, huh? Where you driving from?” Ned decided to get to know her a little better and let Ben get dirty.

  “Um, north . . . east.”

  Interesting. She was being evasive. Ned liked a little mystery in his women. He nodded, as if he bought her northeast story. “Ah, nice country out thataway.”

  “Yeah, it is.” She pursed her lips and looked back to where Ben had taken a rag he’d gotten from the truck and was wiping her dipstick clean of oil.

  Speaking of dipsticks . . . Ned would sure like to get his wet inside her. “So, where you headed?”

  She shrugged. “Just taking a little . . . vacation. No real plan.”

  “Sounds good. I like that kind of plan myself. You know, no plan.” He grinned and stuck his right arm toward her. “I’m Ned, by the way. Ned Brown.”

  “Heather. Um, Heather . . . Smith.” She reached out. Her hand felt small and delicate in his. And soft, as if she’d never had a callus in her life.

  “That there is Ben Townsend.” Ned supposed the polite thing to do was introduce him, since he was the one getting greasy and all.

  Ben popped his head out from beneath the hood. “Well, I don’t think you seized the engine or cracked the block, but I sure as hell wouldn’t be going anywhere with it tonight, even if we can get her started.”

  “Um, okay. Is there a hotel in town?”

  Ned considered the deserted roadway and laughed. “In this town? Uh, no. We’re lucky we have a gas station.”

  “I have a chain in the truck. I can hitch it up and tow you to the service station.” Ben wiped his hands off on the rag and slammed the hood shut.

  Drop her off and drive away? Ned didn’t like the sound of that idea. His brow drew low. “Or we can tow her back to our place and see if we can fix the problem in the morning. Gus is going to charge her an arm and a leg for repairs, her being an out-of-towner and all.”

  He could make all sorts of headway with this girl back at their place if Ben didn’t cock-block him, which was a definite possibility.

  Ben stared at Ned for a second, then moved on to considering Heather. “How old are you? Please, tell me you’re over eighteen.”

  Heather planted one hand on each hip in a stance that made her look even younger, and had Ned doing a little praying she was of age himself.

  “Yes, I’m over eighteen. I’m twenty-two, dammit. Why does everyone think I look like a kid? I am so tired of being typecast as some little girl—”

  “Okay, okay. We believe you.” Ned held up a hand to stop her rant, which had to be genuine. No one could fake being that mad over a simple little question. He glanced at Ben to see his reaction.

  Ben sighed and looked back to the girl as Ned silently willed her to start crying. That would melt Ben’s heart of stone for sure. He finally nodded, even without the show of tears. “All right, she can spend the night on the sofa in the living room.”

  He’d be seeing abo
ut that. “Sure. I’ll even give her one of my pillows and a blanket.” Ned grinned.

  “I’m sure you will.” Ben turned back toward the truck.

  Ned ignored the puss on Ben’s face and focused instead on a much nicer sight. Heather. “Hop on into the truck, darlin’, and we’ll take care of getting the car hooked up for you.”

  “Thank you so much. You sure it’s not too much trouble?” Her brow crinkled above her big eyes. He wished he could see what color they were, but it was too dark. There’d be plenty of time for all that later, though.

  “No trouble at all. Believe me.” He meant every damn word. Best thing that had happened to him in weeks. It wasn’t lost on Ned that he didn’t need to go to the bar to find women. He was so lucky, fate dropped them right there on the drive home for him to find.

  3

  “Agh!” Heather let out a screech as a white blur streaked straight at her from out of the darkness. Her heart pounded. “What is that?”

  Ned laughed. “That’s just our dog, Missy. She helps out around here with the herd. Don’t worry. She won’t hurt you.”

  The dog’s entire body wagged along with its tail, which Heather thought was a good sign it wasn’t about to bite her, but what did she know? Her parents had never allowed her to have any pets growing up. Though she was pretty sure her dad kept a pet or two of the mistress variety before the eventual divorce.

  “Um, good dog.” She kept a close watch on the wiggling furry thing, looking for any sudden movements.

  Ned whistled and the black and white dog scampered to his side, sat by his feet, and stared at him so intently she vibrated. He reached down and patted her head. All right, maybe Missy the dog wasn’t so scary after all. At least she seemed to listen to Ned.

  “Come on inside, sweetheart. I’ll see to setting up that sofa for you to sleep on.” Was he smirking as he walked away? Maybe he was flirting with her. That would be another thing she had no experience with, thanks to her mother.

  “Just let me get my things.” Heather reached into the car and grabbed her tote bag.