You Had Me at Cowboy

by Jennie Marts

  He cleared his throat. “We should get you back. I’m sure your date is wondering what happened to you.” Smooth, Mace, real smooth.

  She let out an annoyed huff. “More like I’m wondering what the heck happened to him.” She looked down at the strap of her purse and twisted it between her fingers. “My date ditched me. Apparently he had other pressing matters to attend to and didn’t bother to show up.”

  Mason’s eyes widened. “What? He’s crazy.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know about that. But he is a conceited jerk. Just because he plays for the NHL doesn’t mean he can do whatever he wants.”

  Her words hit him like a punch in the gut.

  The NHL? Of course. Why couldn’t he seem to catch a break?

  He let out a sigh. “So you’re dating a hockey player?”

  * * *

  Tess heard the irritation in Mason’s voice as he asked her the question and knew she needed to tread carefully. She may not be the best reporter, but she still had good instincts about people. There was something about either the sport of hockey or the players themselves that had put the contempt in Mason’s voice.

  “No. I’m not dating one. But one did invite me to this party.”

  Mason’s tone remained wary. “But do you usually date hockey players?”

  Interesting. She sensed there might be more than just a story on Rockford here. “No. I’ve never dated one before, and after the way this went, I’m not inclined to try another one.”

  A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and she knew that was the answer he’d wanted to hear.

  She figured she might as well try to tip the scales further in her favor. “Which is fine by me because I don’t really even like hockey all that much.”

  His grin widened.

  Bingo.

  “Sounds like maybe you’re better off. And his loss is my gain.” He held out his arm. “I’d be glad to escort you to the party.”

  She arched an eyebrow at him. “What about your date? I’m not sure she’ll be happy to share.”

  “It just so happens that I am also dateless at this event. You’d be doing me a favor by keeping me company.”

  “I guess that’s the least I can do after you literally gave me the shirt off your back.” She slipped her arm through his and smiled up at him. He was several inches taller than her, and she loved the fact that he made her feel small.

  He also made her feel a bit nervous, and suddenly the temperature of the room seemed to rise. Her heart raced a little at the feel of his muscled forearm beneath her fingers. Dang, this guy was built.

  She walked with him down the corridor and took a quick breath as they approached the doors to the hall. This was it—her chance to get the in-depth details of Rockford James’s wedding. She was actually going to make it inside. And not just inside, but on the arm of the groom-to-be’s brother.

  Maybe her luck was changing. Pushing back her shoulders, Tess tilted her chin up and hoped Mason didn’t feel the slight tremble in her fingers as they entered the reception.

  Her breath came out in a soft gasp as they stepped into the crowded room. Laughter flowed as professional athletes with models and actresses on their arms hobnobbed with locals in Wranglers and cowboy hats. Recognizing several famous hockey players, Tess tried to play it cool in front of Mason and not set off his annoyance again.

  But she couldn’t help letting out a tiny squeak as she recognized a popular actor standing by the buffet table. Her grip tightened on Mason’s arm as she leaned closer, then practically swooned from the masculine scent of his aftershave. She kept her voice to a whisper. “Isn’t that…?”

  “Yep.”

  “Wasn’t he in that new superhero movie?”

  “Yep. But apparently he’s from Colorado and quite a hockey fan.” He nodded at the man’s plate as he set another rib on the already toppling mound filling it. “Or else he just likes free barbecue.”

  She hadn’t realized quite how hungry she was. Her stomach must have somehow recognized the scent of the smoked meat filling the air and the sight of the sauce-slathered ribs, because it let out a low growl.

  Seriously?

  Mason cocked an eyebrow at her. “Sounds like he’s not the only one who’s hungry.”

  She pressed a hand against her belly as heat crept up her neck. Stupid stomach.

  “I guess in the rush to get up here, I may have skipped lunch.” And breakfast.

  “Then we’d better get you something to eat.” He slipped his arm around her waist and guided her through the maze of people, which wasn’t easy considering half the room wanted to stop and talk to him. But he pressed forward to the buffet table and pushed a plate into her hands. “You missed out on the appetizers, but according to my aunt Sassy, you didn’t miss much.”

  “Did you say Aunt Sassy?”

  He grinned, and her stomach dipped and swirled, this time more from the way his lips curved than from hunger pains. “Yeah, and she is a sassy thing. You’ll see when you meet her. She wasn’t a huge fan of the watercress sandwiches, but don’t worry, there’s plenty of meat left.”

  He wasn’t kidding. There was meat—and beef, as in beefcake—everywhere she turned. Tess didn’t think she’d ever been in a room full of so many beautiful people. Yet she couldn’t seem to take her eyes off the cowboy who was piling ribs onto a plate for her.

  She was suddenly aware of how many of those beautiful people were also thin and fit, and if she weren’t starving, she’d probably be a little more conscious of her own full curves. But at the moment, she couldn’t care less. Her mouth watered as Mason dumped a scoop of creamy macaroni and cheese next to the ribs.

  “This is supposed to be my mom’s recipe. She gave it to the caterers, and they did their best. It’s not quite as good as hers, but it’ll do in a pinch.”

  Somebody needs to pinch me, Tess thought as he led her toward a table. She couldn’t believe she’d just walked through a buffet line behind one of her favorite celebrities.

  Mason got her settled at a table and signaled for one of the caterers to bring them some drinks. “What are you drinking? Tea? Soda? Wine? It’s an open bar, so get whatever you feel like.”

  “What are you getting?” she asked as she lifted a rib and tore off a bite. A moan escaped her lips. “Oh my gosh. These ribs are amazing.”

  He chuckled. “I think I’ll get a beer. They’ve got one from a local brewery called Creedence Clearwater, and it’s pretty good.”

  “That does sound good. I’ll have one too.”

  His eyes widened, then a grin covered his face and his voice fell into a deep, low tone, reminding her of a biscuit dipped in thick, rich honey. “Damn, girl, I haven’t even known you thirty minutes, and I think you’ve already won my heart. You drink beer, eat barbecue like a truck driver, and I’ve already seen you in your bra. I might have just fallen in love.”

  Chapter 3

  Tessa let loose a burst of laughter, but her stomach had dropped at the sound of his words spoken in a slow, sexy drawl.

  She’d better be careful, or she might just fall in love herself.

  Whoa. Down, girl. Nobody was falling in love with anyone.

  She’d already fallen—into a mess of trouble—and the only way she was going to get herself and her grandmother out of it was to forget about the distraction of the cute cowboy and stay focused on the task at hand.

  But the task at hand was heading toward the dessert table, and it looked like it would be a while before she’d get a chance to talk to Rock, so she might as well enjoy the food—and the company—while she waited.

  Mason took his hat off and set it in the center of the table. It was a small gesture of manners but told her a lot about the kind of man Mason James was.

  His hat was black—she couldn’t help but wonder at the significance of that detai
l—but it was also high quality and looked expensive. Obviously, a good hat and not one he donned to work in. A slight hat ring circled his head, a barely noticeable crease in his dark hair, and a shock of his bangs fell across his forehead, giving him an even more rakish look.

  The temperature of the room had increased a notch, or maybe it was just the heat building in her chest as she tried not to squirm in her chair. She clasped her hands tightly in her lap to keep from reaching up and brushing his hair from his forehead.

  A petite blond waitress sauntered up to their table and offered Mason two bottles of beer and a suggestive smile.

  Grabbing a napkin, Tess wiped the barbecue sauce from her mouth, noting that the perky blond’s shirt fit just fine over her chest.

  Perky, petite blonds were so lucky. Tess had always felt like an Amazon around them—and not in a warrior princess way, but in a clumsy, too-tall, size-ten clodhopper-shoes way.

  Although the heels she wore today were far from clodhoppers. The cute burgundy pumps had cost more than she usually doled out for a pair of shoes, but they’d seemed worth it at the time. But that was before. Before she’d stopped attending parties and before her grandmother had started chatting online with a Nigerian prince.

  Still, no matter how much her shoes cost or how shiny their finish was, Tess still felt gawky and self-conscious sitting in front of a plate full of half-devoured ribs while the waitress swung her tiny hips and cute ponytail at Mason.

  He didn’t seem to notice as he took the beers, offered her a polite smile, and turned his attention back to Tess.

  Score one for the Amazon.

  She took one of the bottles and held it up. “What should we drink to?”

  He reached his hand toward her face, and she sucked in her breath as he slowly swiped his thumb across her chin. A dab of barbecue sauce garnished its tip, and he sucked it between his lips. Lord, he had amazing lips.

  She couldn’t breathe as she watched him lick the tip of his thumb, and she was fairly certain one of her eggs had just dropped.

  Swallowing at the dryness in her mouth, she tried to keep from melting right into her chair.

  He tipped his bottle toward hers and offered her a cocky grin. “To good barbecue, cold beer, and…”

  He hesitated, and she raised an eyebrow as she waited for him to say lacy bras.

  Instead, he winked and said, “…and new friends.”

  She let out a chuckle and relaxed her shoulders. She liked this guy. Clinking her bottle against his, she repeated, “…to new friends.”

  He took a swig, then leaned back in his chair and casually rested his arm on the back of hers, as if they were old friends and totally at ease with each other. And surprisingly, she was at ease with him. Despite her earlier moments of squirming and the heat that seemed to radiate from his body, she was comfortable sitting next to him as they people-watched and casually sipped their beer.

  They didn’t talk constantly, but he pointed out people of the town, and she laughed as he told her funny stories about growing up in Creedence with his two brothers and all the trouble the three of them had gotten into. She tried to memorize it all, jotting it down in her brain until she could get to her computer. Everything he was telling her was solid-gold information for her article.

  Beyond her journalistic interest, she loved listening to him talk, loved the rich, deep baritone of his voice and the way he chuckled softly. Loved the way he talked about his brothers with both respect and admiration.

  As an only child, she had no idea what it would be like to grow up with siblings, and she envied the stories he told.

  A live band had been setting up in the corner of the room, and one of the band members, an older man in a red vest and a black cowboy hat, picked up the microphone and called for the room to settle down.

  He tapped the microphone. “For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Buck Richards, and I’ve been a ranch hand at the Triple J for most of my life. I’ve watched Rock and his brothers grow up, and I’ve known this beautiful girl since she was old enough to walk. And once she could walk, her feet usually carried her to the Triple J. She and her brother spent just about as much time on our ranch as the boys did on theirs. It’s been my honor and privilege to watch all these fine kids grow up, and I couldn’t be prouder and happier to welcome Quinn into the family.”

  He pulled a red bandanna from his back jeans pocket and dabbed at his eyes. “Now, Rockford, you get your skinny butt over here and bring that gorgeous gal with you.”

  The crowd cheered, and Mason let out a whoop and applauded as Rock and Quinn made their way to the stage and embraced the older ranch hand.

  “We’ve got a special song for these two to start this shindig off right,” he said, grinning at the happy couple. “We didn’t write it, but we’ll sure try to do it justice as you all get ready to start your lives together. This one’s for you.”

  He nodded to the dance floor as he picked up his guitar and looped the strap around his shoulder. After a few warm-up strums, the band joined in and they sang an old country song that spoke of love and tenderness and building a life together.

  Rock pulled Quinn into his arms and was surprisingly graceful for such a big guy. Not that anyone noticed his gracefulness or lack thereof. Instead, the entire room was captured by the way he looked lovingly at his fiancée.

  Including Tess.

  She was mesmerized as she watched them dance, then let out a soft sigh as Buck announced that the next dance was for the parents of the couple.

  She’d googled Rock on her phone and knew his mom was a pretty blond named Vivienne. She hadn’t found out anything about their father, but she knew Quinn’s dad ran Rivers Gulch, the ranch to the west of the Triple J.

  Expecting Hamilton Rivers to look a little country, she glanced around the room, but wasn’t prepared for the handsome older cowboy who stood up, a sly grin covering his tan face.

  He looked as though he could have been Sam Elliott’s younger brother, right down to the thick salt-and pepper-mustache, as he swaggered out onto the floor and pulled Quinn into a fatherly embrace. The music started, and he moved them smoothly around the floor, his cowboy boots gliding across the linoleum as if it were made of glass.

  That father-daughter scene was touching enough, but Tess had to blink back the tears as Rock approached his mother and tenderly took her in his arms. She reached up and gently touched his cheek, her eyes shining with the kind of love only a mother knew.

  Tessa’s heart ached with the memory of her mother looking at her that way. She took a swig of beer to wash back the emotion stinging her throat and focused on the dance floor.

  Sneaking a glance at Mason, she thought she might have caught a tear in his eye as well as he watched his mom with his brother.

  It was obvious they were a close-knit family. And even though Vivienne James had both beauty and a country elegance, it was evident that she loved her boys with the fierceness of a mother tiger. A tiger who could easily destroy someone possibly using one of her sons to get some dirt on another.

  Hopefully, Tess wouldn’t be sticking around long enough to see that happen. All she needed was to spend a little time with the bride and groom, listen to them talk and tell a few stories, then feed them a few well-timed questions, and she could get in and out without anyone realizing what she was there to do.

  Easy. No complications.

  Yeah, right. The biggest and hottest complication was sitting next to her, looking good enough to eat.

  She smiled over at him. “Your mom is beautiful.”

  “Yeah, she is.”

  “Is your dad here too?”

  Mason turned his head and stared out across the room. He blinked his eyes, then swallowed before turning back to her. His voice was quiet as he said, “Yeah, I think he is. But just in spirit. He died when we were kids.”

  Tess cov
ered her hand with her mouth, cursing Gordon for not delving deeper into the James family history. That would have been good information to know. “I’m so sorry.”

  Mason shrugged and picked at the seam of his sleeve. “It was a long time ago. But I do miss him, especially at times like these.”

  “I understand.”

  He glanced up at her.

  “No, really. I know what it’s like. I lost both my parents in a car accident when I was a kid.” She pushed back the familiar feelings of guilt that washed through her whenever she talked about that day. Her therapist had spent years trying to convince her the accident wasn’t her fault, but she knew the truth—she was to blame.

  “That’s rough.”

  “Yeah, it was. But luckily, I have an amazing grandmother who took me in and raised me as her own.”

  The song ended, and Buck called into the microphone, “Let’s bring the bridal party and the rest of the family up here.”

  Mason stood and held out his hand. “Now it’s my turn to ask you a favor. Would you like to dance?”

  A battalion of butterflies swirled through her stomach at the idea of being led around the dance floor by him, but she pushed down her nerves and stood up from her chair. “Sure.”

  He took her hand and led her onto the floor as the band kicked off a new song. The tempo was slow—the opposite of the frantic beating of her heart as she waited for Mason to pull her into the circle of his arms.

  Stepping onto the dance floor, he turned and offered her a grin as he slid his hand easily around her waist and flattened his palm against her back. His movements were fluid and smooth as he guided her around the room using just the pressure of his hand against her back.

  She could hear him humming along to the tune, feel the vibration in her body. His skin was tanned, and a faint smudge of dark whiskers was just starting along his jaw. The scent of his aftershave surrounded her, and she wanted to rest her head on his shoulder. Either that or lick his neck. Hell, she wanted to lick his everything.

  He was so damn sexy.

  He’d taken off his tie and unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt, and she could just glimpse the skin of his chest. But she could feel the hard muscles under his shirt and knew he would be as strong as an ox.