You Had Me at Cowboy

by Jennie Marts

  The reporter and cameraman turned their heads, and the color drained from their faces as one by one, armed cowboys stepped menacingly out from behind barn doors and the sides of the bunkhouses.

  The air was still, quiet except for the audible clicks as each man cocked his gun in turn.

  “You guys are crazy,” the cameraman yelled as he scrambled to get back into the van.

  The blond reporter pushed past him and climbed into the front seat signaling the driver to go. Dust filled the air as the tires spun out in the gravel and the van shot down the driveway.

  Holy high noon.

  Tess was witnessing “hot cowboy” multiplied to the nth degree. She blinked, surprised to feel the flame of heat in her blood at the rugged display of manliness. “Were they really going to start shooting at them?” she whispered.

  Vivi let out a bark of laughter. “Lord no. Most of those guns aren’t even loaded. And did you see the one Colt had? That was the antique revolver that sits on our mantel above our fireplace.”

  Laughter bubbled up her chest, and Tess let out a nervous giggle. “Are you serious?”

  “Of course I’m serious.” Vivi’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “It’s not even a real gun. It’s a lighter.”

  Tess looked from Vivi to Quinn to Sassy; then the four women broke into laughter. Holding her sides, Tess tried to catch her breath as the men headed toward the table, laughing themselves and clapping one another on the back.

  Colt dropped into the seat across from her, holding up the antique revolver and pulling the trigger. A small flame lit from the end of the gun’s barrel, and he offered her an exaggerated wink. “And that, Hoss, is what we call Operation Gunslinger.”

  “That’s what I call watching too many episodes of Bonanza,” Vivi said, still laughing.

  Ham jerked a thumb toward the house as he sat down on the other side of Vivi. “I left Max and Truman inside watching a movie.”

  “Thanks, Dad. I’ll go check on him,” Quinn said, sliding off the picnic bench and planting a kiss on Rock’s lips as she passed him on the way up the porch steps.

  Mason dropped into her vacated seat next to Tess. A shit-eatin’ grin covered his face. “Bet you thought you were just coming out for a barbecue. Didn’t know you’d get dinner and a show.”

  And what a show.

  “Two for the price of one, I guess.” Following Quinn’s example, Tess pressed a quick kiss to Mason’s cheek. “Very hot. But next time, do you think you all could find some chaps? I think that would really add the authentic Wild West touch.”

  Rock raised an eyebrow. “Mace, is your girl really requesting you wear chaps? At the dinner table? And around Ma?”

  Heat flamed Tess’s cheeks, but Rock let out a chuckle. “I like you already.”

  The group broke into laughter, but with Tess, not at her, and she joined in on the good-natured fun. Leaning in toward Mason, she whispered. “It’s never a dull moment around here, is it?”

  “Oh, it’s usually extremely dull. You just caught us on a good day.” He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her hip tighter against his, as if it were the most natural movement in the world. Her body softened against his, and she let herself sink into the curve of his arm.

  She filed away the thought of how Operation Gunslinger was going to read in her article. She was really getting the inside flavor of Rock and his family.

  Vivi flattened her hands on the table. “After all that excitement, who’s ready for pie? You all carry your plates in and get this table cleared while Quinn and I put together the desserts,” she said with the commanding authority of a drill sergeant.

  Her crew must’ve been good at following orders because they all stood up and had their dishes in hand and the table cleared within minutes.

  “I can help,” Tess offered, grabbing her plate and the empty potato salad bowl and following Mason’s mom into the kitchen.

  “Thanks, honey, but you don’t have to.” Vivi grabbed the dirty plates and scraped them into a bowl before stacking them in the sink.

  “I want to. Besides, my grandma would have my skin if I didn’t help with the dishes after such a great meal.”

  “She sounds like my kind of woman. Mason told me your grandmother raised you and that you still live with her.”

  What else had Mason told his mom about her? “I do. And she’s an amazing woman. Except we’re more like roommates now.”

  “I can’t imagine being roommates with my grandmother,” Quinn said with a chuckle.

  Tess laughed with her. “We do pretty well. There are definitely positives and negatives. I mean, she’s my best friend and a wonderful cook, and she likes to eat dinner together and always listens when I talk about my day, so that’s all great, but she’s also super nosy and constantly gives me advice, whether I ask for it or not. Sometimes it’s like rooming with a really bossy friend who still tells me to go to my room if I disagree with her.”

  Vivi grabbed a stack of plastic containers and set to putting the leftovers away. “There’s plenty of times I wish I could still send my boys to their rooms.”

  A flush of heat worked up Tess’s neck as she thought about Mason’s bedroom—well, more about his bed and, actually, more about his bed with him in it. Turning away so his mom wouldn’t see her blush, she crossed the room to where she’d left her purse on the sofa and dropped her sunglasses inside. It was at least something to do so she didn’t look like a dork staring at the wall.

  A gnawing ball of guilt settled in her stomach like a rock. She liked these women, liked this whole family, liked how they had already taken her in and accepted her. She hated the fact that she was deceiving them and hated to imagine what they would think of her when the article came out.

  Being around Mason was easier than Tess had thought it would be—especially since he was hotter than the Colorado sun. And he seemed like a good guy. A guy she could really be interested in.

  But he wasn’t going to be interested in her once he found out she was really a reporter. And he would find out. Once the story came out, everyone would find out.

  Maybe she could get her boss to run the story under a pen name.

  Or maybe she could forget about the story altogether.

  But she couldn’t do that to Mimi.

  Her grandmother wouldn’t approve of all this deception, but it didn’t matter. Saving her grandmother’s house and keeping them both from getting tossed out into the street is what mattered. She’d already spent one uncomfortable night sleeping in her car. She didn’t want that back seat to turn into her permanent bedroom.

  No, it didn’t matter what these people thought of her. What mattered was getting the story and saving her grandmother from financial devastation. Getting duped by a devious reporter and one revealing story in a magazine wouldn’t really hurt this family; they were strong.

  She pushed down the thought of what it would do to her and how it might break the heart that was already connecting to the tall cowboy, because her feelings didn’t matter either.

  Her heart would mend. It always did. But not doing the story would ruin her grandmother.

  Unless she could think of another idea to raise the money and forget the article altogether. But how could she raise a quick couple thousand dollars? Selling either drugs or her body could net some quick cash. But the only drugs she had at her disposal were Advil, prescription migraine medicine, and an expired bottle of pills that helped with an occasional acne flare-up.

  So becoming a dope dealer was out of the question. And she wasn’t sure how much she could get for her tall, curvy, big-footed, squishy-bellied body. She’d have to put the idea of selling her body on hold for now.

  Taking a deep breath, she pasted on a smile and headed toward the sink. She lifted the faucet and directed the spray of water over the stack of dishes. “Do you have a system for loading your d
ishwasher?”

  “She doesn’t use it enough to have a system, so I just load it how I think it should go,” Quinn told her, pulling the dishes from the sink and stacking them in the rack. “Rock bought it for her when he had the kitchen and living room remodeled, but she still likes to wash things by hand.”

  Rock had their home remodeled? It seemed like there was more to the guy than just the arrogant playboy the press made him out to be. “Your home is lovely,” Tessa remarked, then glanced at Quinn as she put the last bowl in the dishwasher. “Do you know where you’re going to live after the wedding?”

  It was an innocent enough question—something anyone might ask. That rock of guilt pitched in the pit of her stomach, reminding her she wasn’t asking it innocently. She was asking it to get information about Quinn and her fiancé. Before Quinn could answer, Rock and Mason sauntered into the kitchen.

  “Ah dang,” Mason said. “It looks like you’re just finishing up. Rock and I were just coming in to do the dishes.”

  “Yeah, right.” Vivi smirked, obviously used to this game. “It’s too bad we’ve already finished. But you two can help carry all these desserts out.”

  She loaded Rock and Quinn’s arms with two pies, a coconut cake, and a platter of cookies. Picking up a fresh pitcher of iced tea, she gestured to the remaining apple pie and pan of brownies. “I’ve got the tea if you all can grab those last things.”

  “Sure, Mom,” Mason said, holding the door for them all to walk through. “But I’m not sure we’re going to have enough dessert.”

  “I swear I don’t know where you got that smart-aleck mouth,” Vivi mumbled, giving him a grin and a swat on the arm as she passed through the door.

  Tess’s heartbeat tripled in her chest as Mason turned his grin toward her and ambled across the kitchen. “Are you a fan of pie, Tess?”

  He somehow made the simple question sound flirty and sinful, and all she could do was nod as her mouth went dry.

  “My mom makes the best apple pie in three counties. And she’s got the blue ribbons to prove it.” He broke off a piece of the crust and held it up to Tess’s lips. “It’s a little bit like how I imagine heaven would taste.”

  She opened her mouth and let him feed her the offered piece of crust, biting into the flaky shell. A line of filling rimmed the crust, and she tasted the cinnamon tinged with the sweet tartness of apple and brown sugar. It was amazing, and she let out a soft moan as she licked the excess sugar from her lips.

  “It’s good, right?” He dipped his finger into the pie and lifted a chunk of apple into his mouth, holding her stare as he took a step closer. A dab of pie filling glistened on his lip, and she watched, transfixed, as his tongue darted out and licked the dab clean.

  “It’s delicious,” she whispered.

  He narrowed his eyes, dropping his gaze to her mouth as he circled her waist with one of his large hands. He brought his other hand up and cupped her cheek, then ran the edge of his thumb over her bottom lip. “Your lips look delicious.”

  He tilted his head, leaning his face toward hers. “I can’t tell for sure until I taste them though.”

  Tess swallowed, every nerve ending in her body surging with electricity. He’d kissed her before, but that had been standing in a barn, and his brother had seen them. There was no one to see them now; they were all alone. Just the two of them. And the pie.

  Her back was against the counter as he closed the rest of the space between them and dipped his mouth to hers.

  The kiss was gentle, tender, his lips barely skimming hers. Her lips parted, and she inhaled a trembling breath, sure he could feel the thumping of her heart against her chest.

  “I was wrong,” he said, his voice husky and low. “It’s not the pie. It’s you.” He pulled back, just the slightest, and gave a gentle nip to her bottom lip. “You’re a little bit like how I imagine heaven would taste.”

  He brushed her lips again, then his mouth slanted across hers as he deepened the kiss.

  A low growl rumbled in the back of his throat, and he tightened his grip on her back, dragging her against his chest as his mouth explored hers.

  Tess’s hands had somehow moved to his shoulders—his very broad and muscular shoulders—and she gripped the folds of his shirt in her fingers, clutching the fabric between her fingers as her knees threatened to buckle. All she could do was hold on as she felt the strength of his embrace and the desire in his lips as the kiss deepened further.

  He tasted sweet and warm—like cinnamon and brown sugar and a cozy blanket on a cold day—and she melted into the kiss, into his strong arms, letting the moment sweep her away.

  All she could focus on was this man and the way his lips felt on hers and the feel of his hands as they caressed and touched her cheek, her hip, the small of her back.

  He drew back as if trying to catch his breath and his eyes searched hers, as if he were looking for clues to see if this was really real or to decipher how she felt about him.

  She wanted to tell him. Tell him that she really liked him, that she was falling for him. Falling for his easy charm and his gorgeous eyes. Tell him that this was more than just a fill-in date to her, more than some silly favor to pay him back for loaning her his shirt.

  Opening her mouth to speak, she willed the words to come, but instead she asked, “What was that for? You realize we’re alone in here. We can’t start a whisper of a rumor if no one’s around to witness the whisper.”

  He blinked, and she swore she saw a hurt look cross his face, just for a moment, just a slight crinkle around his eyes.

  Why was she so stupid? Why didn’t she just tell him how she felt? That she didn’t care about starting a rumor or keeping the locals off his back, that she just wanted him to kiss her again. And again.

  He recovered quickly—maybe she hadn’t seen anything at all—and offered her an impish grin. “You never know who might be watching.”

  A smile pulled at the corner of her lips. “Then you’d better kiss me again, just to be safe.”

  His grin broadened, flashing her the pearly whites of his teeth before he leaned back down and took her mouth again.

  Her body came alive under his touch, flashes of heat and electricity swelling through her veins and across her skin. His hand gripped her waist and, as he pressed his hips against hers, she could swear she felt a pulse of vibration flare between them.

  Oh wait…that was an actual vibration.

  He pulled away, grumbling as he tugged his phone from his pocket and checked the screen. “I should probably take this.”

  She nodded, sucking in a ragged breath and already missing the warmth of his body against hers. Shaking her head, she tried to clear it, tried to focus, but her thoughts were jumbled, and all she could think about was how well and thoroughly she had just been kissed.

  Mason grinned down at her, twisting a lock of her hair around his finger as he put the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

  He dropped his hand as his grin fell away and his mouth tightened into a thin line. “Ah shit,” he said, followed by a couple of “yeahs” and “uh-huhs” before he hung up. His forehead creased as his expression darkened. “That was the sheriff. We’ve got a problem.”

  Chapter 10

  Tess’s already-pounding heart leapt to her throat. A problem? What kind of problem? Like an “I just found out you’re a fraud” kind of problem?

  Stop it. That’s ridiculous. There was no way the sheriff would have any idea who Tess was or who she worked for. She hadn’t even met the man. But what if he’d found out she’d spent the last night camped out in the parking lot behind the public library? That could be a problem.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice shaky.

  But Mason was already heading for the front door, the pie—and the kiss—apparently forgotten. She followed on his heels, both anxious and terrified to hear what he was goin
g to say.

  He hurried down the front porch steps, calling out to the men sitting at the picnic table. “Sheriff just called. He’s getting reports of a herd of cattle spread out across County Road 9. Whoever called it in claimed they were Black Angus and carried our brand. We must have a fence down.”

  The group rose as one, leaving their plates as they climbed over the picnic benches and headed toward their vehicles.

  “Where do you want us, Mace?” Rock asked, nodding to Quinn and Logan as he crammed the rest of a cookie in his mouth.

  Mason called directions as he headed toward his pickup. “You three take the four-wheelers through the pasture and meet us there. See if you can get an idea of how many cattle we’re missing as you go. Ham and I will meet you over there. Buck, you want to start checking the fence line to make sure we’re not down anywhere else?”

  “Sassy and I will stay here with Max,” Vivi said, already clearing the plates from the table. “Check in with us when you’ve got ’em all rounded up.”

  All the dogs scrambled out from under the table where they must have been waiting for scraps, and Theo and Dewey raced along at Mason’s heels. Not knowing what else to do, so did Tess. Mason climbed into one side of the truck, and she climbed into the other.

  He raised an eyebrow at her as he started the engine. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m coming with you.”

  “You don’t have to. You can stay behind with my mom.”

  “I might be able to help.” Although she had no idea how. But she still felt like she should be in on the action.

  He shrugged. “Suit yourself. We can always use an extra hand.”

  Before she could pull the door shut, Colt squeezed in, tossing a roll of duct tape and a couple of pairs of gloves on the dash. “Scoot over.”

  Dewey bounded into Tess’s lap as Colt’s golden retriever jumped into the cab as well.

  The smell of dogs and horses filled the cab, but all Tess could think about was the way Mason’s thigh pressed against hers and the way her shoulder bumped his as they bounced over the dirt road.