Big City Cowboy (Harlequin American Romance)

by Benson, Julie

  Uncomplicated. Unattached. Unemotional. So unlike the scene in front of her.

  “Now sit down, and tell me what you’ve been up to.” Mrs. McAlister’s gentle voice as she shooed Rory away pulled Elizabeth from her thoughts. “Elizabeth, how did you meet my son?”

  She detailed her first trip to Estes Park.

  “And now Rory’s working for your agency?”

  Out of her peripheral vision, Elizabeth glanced at him. From the glower on his face, he wasn’t happy that his mother had found out about his moonlighting.

  “That right, Mrs. McAlister. Rory’s modeling for a client of mine.”

  “Call me Nannette.”

  “Rory negotiated an amazing deal with the client. He—”

  “No need to bore Mom with the details.” Rory pinned Elizabeth with a be-quiet stare. Okay, not only hadn’t he told his mother about his job, he didn’t want her knowing the details of the deal, either. Why wouldn’t he want to tell her how he’d stood up to a Fortune 500 CEO who wanted to low-ball him, and negotiated a sweet contract?

  “That was how you got the money I needed, wasn’t it?” Nannette’s low voice dripped with regret.

  Rory nodded. “No big deal.”

  “You didn’t have to do that. We could’ve found another way.”

  “Can we discuss this later?”

  Elizabeth glanced from mother to son. What was going on? She felt as if she was watching a foreign film without subtitles.

  “I’ll let it go for now,” Nannette said. “But we will talk about this.”

  “I never doubted we would.”

  Her parents had shown concern over her being successful and dedicated in her career, but not concern for her, as Nannette showed for Rory.

  “Tell me you’re not modeling underwear,” she pleaded as she stared at her son, whose face had suddenly turned beet-red. “That wouldn’t be right, and I don’t like underwear ads. We all wear underwear and know what it looks like.”

  Elizabeth opened her mouth to respond, but Rory shook his head, as if to say this, too, would pass.

  “Lord knows when the average person wears underwear it doesn’t look like it does on a model,” Nannette continued. “The ads always do something silly, like showing a man sitting at the breakfast table drinking his morning coffee and reading the paper in his underwear.” She paused, then laughed. “Wait a minute. I recall your father doing that a time or two.”

  “He sure did. Guess that wasn’t a good example,” Rory teased back.

  “How about when they show a woman dancing around the house in her bra and panties. I don’t know any woman who does that.” Her gazed locked on Elizabeth. “Have you ever done it?”

  Elizabeth couldn’t contain her smile. She liked this down-to-earth woman with her sharp sense of humor. “I have to admit I never have, and I think those ads are silly, too.”

  “No son of mine should—”

  “I get the point, Mom. You don’t have to worry. I’m modeling jeans.”

  “Thank the good Lord. I can still look Reverend Klockers in the face on Sunday morning,” Nannette said, her hand splayed across her chest.

  Again Elizabeth laughed. Rory just shook his head, his cheeks still ruddy.

  “You’re modeling jeans. So that’s why you’re wearing those fancy britches.” Nannette turned to Elizabeth. “No offense, since your client makes those jeans, but they wouldn’t last a week here on the ranch. They aren’t working jeans.”

  Note to self. The campaign needs to address the issue that Western people view Devlin’s jeans as too fancy.

  “That’s what I told her, Mom.”

  “I guess they’d be fine for a night out dancing, though.” She flashed Elizabeth an apologetic smile. “This can’t be easy for you, Rory. You’ve never liked being in front of a camera.” Nannette turned to her. “When he turned ten he wouldn’t let us take his picture. Whenever we brought out a camera he refused to look at us. Once when a friend’s mom wanted a picture of the team after they won the Whiz Quiz competition, Rory hid behind another boy.”

  Guilt over giving him an ultimatum during their first photo shoot sprouted inside Elizabeth.

  “Where are my manners? You’ve been here ten minutes, and had a long trip to boot, and I haven’t offered you anything. Can I get you some iced tea or water?”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “I need to be going. I want to check into the hotel.”

  “Nonsense, I won’t hear of it.” Nannette waved her hand in the air. “That’s a waste of hard-earned money when we have plenty of room here.”

  Elizabeth smiled, realizing where Rory got his frugal nature. “The client is paying for my hotel.”

  “Doesn’t matter. We’d be happy to have you stay here,” Nannette said.

  “It’s not that simple. I have other people joining me tomorrow. Six, in fact, including the CEO of Devlin Designs, and they’re all staying at the hotel.”

  “We’re shooting a TV commercial here,” Rory interjected.

  “Your mother doesn’t know about the commercial?” Elizabeth glared at him, trying to control her rising temper. He’d said her being a New York City woman would be a problem for the owner, when in reality he’d talked her into letting him negotiate the right to use the ranch so she wouldn’t contact his mother. He’d lied to her twice now. Elizabeth’s stomach tightened. What other little surprises waited for her here in Colorado?

  “When were you planning on mentioning this?” Nannette stared at him with a look only an irritated mother could deliver.

  “I’m sorry, Nannette. Ultimately, this is my fault. I should’ve seen to the negotiations myself.” Elizabeth turned to Rory, struggling not to punch him in the nose for making her look incompetent. “You told me you would clear everything with the ranch’s owner. In fact, when I asked you about that very fact on the plane, you told me everything was fine.”

  Rory ignored her. “Do you trust my decision on this deal, Mom?”

  “Of course,” she said.

  He turned to Elizabeth. “See? Everything’s fine. You worry too much.”

  Nannette laughed. “You’re one to talk, young man. That’s like the mule calling the donkey stubborn.”

  “Isn’t that the truth.” Elizabeth turned to Rory’s mom. “I’m sorry that us filming the commercial here has come as a surprise. I’ll make sure to keep you updated. I assure you this isn’t the way I do business.”

  “I’d appreciate that. Rory’s gotten a little overprotective lately where I’m concerned. He’s failed to clue me in on some important details.” Exasperation laced Nannette’s voice.

  “I know what you mean. He’s forgotten to tell me a few important things lately, like the fact that his family owns this ranch.” She smiled at Nannette. “He can be a bit controlling. Dare I say overbearing?”

  The older woman nodded, looked at her son and shook her head.

  “You two realize I’m still here, right?”

  “When he was little,” Nannette said, completely ignoring his comment, “his father and I joked that he would be a great dictator of a small country.”

  “Thanks for sharing that fact, Mom. Sure makes me look like a fabulous guy.” Beside Elizabeth, Rory sat back, his arms crossed over his chest and his jaw clenched. Any minute smoke would roll out of his ears. He liked to tease her, but wasn’t so crazy about being on the receiving end.

  “Don’t get your nose all out of joint. We wouldn’t give you such a hard time if we didn’t care. Would we, Elizabeth?”

  Wait a minute. Now things weren’t so funny. Rory’s mom thought she cared about him? Major wrong turn. Elizabeth drew a deep breath to slow her racing heart. “I care for Rory like I care for everyone I work with.”

  That should put things in perspective for Nannette. The last thing Elizabeth needed was a matchmaking mother.

  Wise brown eyes focused on her. Elizabeth held her breath as she prayed the woman would buy her fib. Not fib, actually. What she’d said was technicall
y true.

  Sure, you care for Rory the same way you care for Chloe, or Jerry, the copywriter. Why don’t you try to sell his mom the Brooklyn Bridge while you’re at it?

  “Rory, take Elizabeth’s suitcase upstairs,” his mother finally said, breaking the awkward silence.

  “I can’t stay—”

  “Nonsense. If you’re shooting a TV commercial here, you might as well coordinate things from the ranch,” Nannette said.

  Staying here, being able to see Rory anytime, wouldn’t be good. Avoiding him for the last week hadn’t helped her put their relationship back on a professional track. No matter how busy she stayed, whenever someone mentioned his name or she saw his picture, her body reminded her how wonderful it felt to be in his arms and have his lips covering hers. Worse was the fact that she’d started wondering what a personal relationship with Rory would be like.

  She couldn’t stay at Twin Creeks. She needed to put physical distance between them.

  “If I cancel my reservation now the company will still have to pay for the room.”

  “Stephen, the owner, is a friend of mine. He’ll overlook that if I say you’re staying here.”

  So much for that escape route. Elizabeth’s mind scrambled to find another excuse.

  “Stay. I’d like to get to know you better, since you’re my son’s boss.” When Elizabeth opened her mouth to speak, Nannette added with a twinkle in her eyes, “This is my ranch. You need to keep me happy or there won’t be any commercial.”

  That, she realized, settled the issue.

  “Rory, get Elizabeth settled upstairs, and join me in the kitchen. You and I need to talk.”

  Elizabeth resisted the urge to smile. Things could be worse. She could be in Rory’s shoes.

  AFTER RETRIEVING HER SUITCASE, Rory escorted Lizzie up the winding oak staircase to the second floor. He’d been surprised how well his mom took the news about his latest career endeavor. Of course, with Elizabeth present, how much could she say? Nannette McAlister was a lady through and through, and ladies didn’t scold their adult children in public.

  Which meant he’d better hold on tight during the storm he’d find in the kitchen. To say his mom wouldn’t be pleased that he’d put himself on display for her was like calling the Rocky Mountains a few hills.

  “Is your mother always so persuasive?”

  “Pretty much.” He laughed. His mother could get the entire U.S Congress to vote her way if she put her mind to it. “Dad used to call her the family rock, and said once she’d decided something there was no moving her.”

  Lizzie chuckled. “I like her.”

  Before he could respond, Lizzie’s cell phone rang. “Hello, Micah,” she said as she looked at Rory and rolled her eyes. “Yes, Rory and I are at the ranch.” She paused and listened.

  Poor Lizzie. Devlin and his micromanaging never let her have a moment’s peace. At least he would be at the hotel while she’d be here at the house.

  Rory frowned, not sure what he thought about Lizzie staying here. In the short time he’d known her, she’d gotten under his skin, becoming the itch in the middle of his back that he couldn’t reach to scratch, and wouldn’t go away if he ignored it.

  He hadn’t found a woman so stimulating, both mentally and physically, in years, probably because he’d shut himself off emotionally since Melissa. But Lizzie had sneaked up on him. Every time he thought he had her figured out, she threw him another curve. As she had downstairs with his mom. The two of them had ribbed him pretty good. He’d given a good show of being upset, but in truth, he’d enjoyed seeing Lizzie have fun. Her pretty blue eyes had sparkled like the little creek out in their eastern pasture when the morning sun hit it. The water looked like it was sprinkled with diamonds.

  All those feelings scared him to death.

  On the other hand, if she stayed at the ranch, maybe he’d figure out if what he felt for her was real. He opened the guest room door, stepped inside and deposited Lizzie’s suitcase by the foot of the bed.

  “I plan on familiarizing myself with the ranch as soon as we get off the phone. I’ll have any minor changes that need to be made done by the time you arrive tomorrow.” Lizzie ended the call. “That man is going to nitpick me to death.”

  “Don’t let him get to you.”

  “Things are still pretty dicey with Devlin until he renews the agency’s other contracts. Until then he can pull the remainder of his business, and I’d be in big trouble.”

  “You spend a lot of time worrying about losing your job.”

  “My career is very important to me, and who wants to be unemployed anytime, much less in this economy?”

  “Your job isn’t who you are, Lizzie.”

  “I’ve worked very hard to get where I am. You, on the other hand, don’t seem to care about work at all.”

  “I care. I’m just not obsessed. There are other things that mean more to me, like my family and friends. What else do you have in your life?”

  The fact that Lizzie never talked about anything but work hadn’t escaped him. She stood before him now, her eyes wide as she tried to figure out how to respond.

  “Don’t bother. I see the answer in your eyes.” How could she live like that? When he stood in front of the pearly gates, Rory figured no one would ask him about his job. They’d ask about the people he loved, and what he’d done for them during his life.

  “My life is full and I’m very happy.”

  He considered asking her who she wanted to convince, him or herself, but decided not to push his luck. He’d need all the luck he could get when he talked to his mother. “I’m off to explain things to Mom.”

  “Is it true you don’t like having your picture taken?”

  “I’ve never liked the spotlight. When I was in Little League the coach wanted me to pitch because I could throw hard and was a lefty. The last thing I wanted was to stand on the mound with everyone’s attention focused on me.”

  “You should have told me.”

  “Would you have hired me if I had?”

  They both knew the answer to that without her answering. Probably not. “But I’d have done things differently at the shoot. I would’ve cleared the set of nonessential people. I could’ve made the experience easier for you.”

  Rory hooked his thumbs in his front pockets, trying desperately to look as if the conversation hadn’t hit a nerve. “What’s done is done.”

  “Is that what bothers Nanette about what you’re doing?”

  If his mom thought he’d taken the job because he’d wanted to, she’d be all for the idea. What made her mad was that he’d set aside his life to get the money she needed for treatment. And to top it off, he hadn’t informed her of his plans.

  “What about your dad? Does he know?”

  That little arrow shot straight out of the blue and hit him right in the heart, almost knocking him to his knees. “My dad died two years ago.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. What happened?”

  “He and Griff were out fixing fences when Dad had a massive heart attack. By the time Griffin got Dad back to the house and the paramedics arrived, it was too late.” Shutting off the painful memories, Rory said, “Mom’s upset because our life is ranching. She knows that’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.”

  Lizzie peered up at him as if she was trying to read his mind. Then she tilted her head slightly to the left. He’d come to realize that meant she was thinking, and that couldn’t be good for him. “Is that the only reason she’s upset?”

  He nodded. “That, and I didn’t tell her about it.”

  “Then why do I feel like there’s something that everyone else but me knows?”

  Rory kept his features blank, refusing to tell her the truth. No way did he want Lizzie looking at his mom with pity or thinking he couldn’t pay for his mother’s cancer treatment. “You’re seeing things that aren’t there. Meet you downstairs at six for dinner.”

  He turned and rushed out of the room, fearing that if he spent an
other moment with Lizzie, if she looked at him with those clear blue, understanding eyes, he’d buckle. He’d tell her how weary he was of carrying the family’s burdens. He’d tell her how much he longed for a woman to share those worries with him. He’d tell her he wondered if she could be that woman.

  Yup, he’d escaped just in time.

  AS RORY WALKED into the kitchen, his favorite room, he remembered how it had always sent tempting aromas wafting through the house. Baking bread, apple pies, a good beef roast were among his favorites. During the last few months those smells had been absent.

  Today he found his mother seated in a chair at the oak table. A paring knife, ceramic bowl and unpeeled apples sat on the table in front of her. She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. “I’d hoped to make an apple pie, but now I don’t seem to have the energy to get it done.”

  “We’ll live without pie.” He sank into the chair next to her.

  “I hate what this disease has done to our lives.”

  Then damn it, they’d have pie. At least that one little piece of normalcy. “Is the crust done?”

  She nodded and dabbed at her eyes with a tissue.

  “You tell me what to do, and we’ll get ’er done.” He picked up the knife and started peeling apples.

  She smiled briefly at his use of Larry the Cable Guy’s favorite saying.

  “This new treatment’s going to change things for the better.” From his mouth to God’s ears. “What did the doctor say before you left Portland?”

  “He said we’d know more when I go back next month. They’ll do another CT scan to check the tumor’s size, and then I’ll have another round of treatment.” Her long fingers picked at the fancy side stitching on his jeans. “What do you think of modeling?”

  He sliced the apple he’d peeled into the bowl. “Can’t say it’s a whole lot of fun, or that it’s much of a profession, but it’s worth it.”

  She flashed him a weak smile, and another tear ran down her cheek. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “What would you have said if I had?”