Front Range Cowboys (5 Book Box Set)

by Evie Nichole

  “I’m hurting.” Why not tell her? Maybe she’d tell him to order another beer.

  But she didn’t. She tilted her head to one side and pursed her lips instead. “Have you tried any physical therapy or exercises for your injuries?”

  Like nobody had ever mentioned that to him before. Gee. Just when he thought the woman was pretty smart and practical minded, she had to go and say something idiotic like that. How depressing.

  “I’m sorry.” She reached over and gently touched his forearm. “I shouldn’t have pried.”

  He could not stop staring at the place where her hand was touching his skin. The electricity flowing through his body seemed to chase away everything else he was feeling in that moment. There was nothing but bliss left behind, and he did not want it to stop. Ever. If he could just keep her hands on him, Met was pretty sure that he’d never need another drop of alcohol in his life.

  Chapter Seven

  The evening had to end sometime. It was just unsettling that Daphne did not want it to. She could have sat at that table for the rest of the night talking about rodeo and livestock and pretty much anything else that Met was willing to discuss.

  She loved the way he talked. He was so very animated. His face gave away everything he was thinking and feeling, which lent a sense of authenticity to the conversation that was so sadly lacking in the rest of the interactions that defined her life. Given that Daphne was in the public relations business, she spent all of her time trying to create a false persona for just about everyone and anyone that walked through her door. It was very rare when she discovered someone who had a natural personality that would go well with a public relations campaign.

  “So, what is your job really like?” Met leaned back in his seat and took a long drink from the iced tea that he’d ordered after his second beer was gone.

  Daphne wondered if she should actually thank him for the lack of alcoholic excess and decided not to. Instead, she sat back in her own seat and reveled in the sense of comfort and natural conversational rhythm. “I guess you would say that I specialize in creating fake images for people.”

  “Are there really that many people in Denver that need a fake image?” He snorted and shook his head. His skepticism was obvious. “I find that hard to believe. This city is populated with goody two-shoes.”

  “Then, I suppose I should take that as proof of a job well done,” she joked. She wondered if he had any idea how much dirt there was around this city. “Every city. Every town. Even a village with less than a hundred people in it is subject to the depraved things that the human mind seems to come up with. There are crimes and there are dregs of society who sit forgotten in the alleys and gutters. It’s just the way things are.”

  “And you get hired to cover up what?” He cocked his head and gave her a look that was obviously a challenge. “Come on. What’s the worst thing you’ve had to smooth away?”

  She bit her lip. There was no way she was supposed to be talking about this stuff. These were people’s private lives. She had a nondisclosure agreement that would have made the pope cry. Add to that was just the ethics of the situation. But there was a part of her that felt the strange urge to try and impress him.

  “Come on.” He winked at her.

  That completely threw her. His smile and his wink were like her personal brand of kryptonite. “Okay. So, I’m not using any names, of course.”

  “Of course.” There was another devastating grin playing at the corners of his mouth.

  “So, I think the weirdest thing I’ve ever had to deal with happened because the CEO of a very large company got the vice president of the company’s teenaged daughter pregnant. The two men were fighting like cats and dogs for obvious reasons.” The memory was not pleasant. Daphne had felt sorry for the young mother and the child. They had been immediately shipped off to a relative in the middle of nowhere in order to be out of sight. “The young woman hid her pregnancy until the last minute. So, basically, there was this baby born and both the CEO and the VP were freaking out because they were both involved in this mess.”

  “And you got called in to what?” He gaped at her. “What can you possibly do to fix that?”

  Daphne sighed. “I created this whole charity event scholarship foundation sponsored by both men. Scholarship funds are fantastic PR devices. They garner a lot of attention because there are so many college kids who need money for tuition. Then you’ve got their attention and their parents’ attention. Then, on top of that, we did this huge layout in the local paper. These two men could not stand each other, but they knew better than to act out in public. So, they smiled, shook hands for a photograph, and all of a sudden they were best friends again. The company’s stock started climbing again and disaster was averted.”

  “Holy crap.” He slammed his empty iced tea glass on the tabletop. “That is ridiculous!”

  “I would agree.”

  “How can company stock prices have anything to do with who is screwing whom?” The dirty look on his face did not fascinate her nearly as much as his use of the word “whom.”

  “You have surprisingly good grammar for a cowboy,” she told him suddenly. Her words were vaguely insulting. How had she known he would not take offense? She could not have said.

  Met only laughed and nodded his head. “I suppose my grammar is a little better than the average cowpoke. I’ll tell you a secret though”—he leaned in close—“before I dropped out of school, my best subject was English.”

  “That does surprise me.”

  “What would you have guessed my best subject to be?” There was something almost flirtatious in his tone. “PE?”

  “Sex Ed.” As soon as the words were out, she clapped both hands over her mouth. “I’m sorry, that was way out of line!”

  He threw his head back and laughed hard. “Don’t you dare apologize! That was hilarious. And yes. I got a pretty darn good grade in Sex Ed thanks to hanging out on a ranch for so many years and watching the barnyard animals do their thing.”

  “I’m sure you were fabulous.” Oh my God! Was she still teasing him about this? There was a certain sort of insanity in this behavior.

  He gestured to the dance floor. “Would you like to?”

  “Dance?” she yelped. “No. I’m a horrible dancer.”

  “It’s not ballet.” He actually rolled his eyes. “You just follow along. I bet you’re perfectly capable of that.”

  She bit her lip. Why was she even considering this? There was a whiney country tune about women leaving their husbands playing in the background. Half a dozen couples were bobbing and swaying around the dance floor. A part of her wanted badly to be one of them. She wanted to forget herself for a moment in the music and just let her partner lead.

  “Come on,” he coaxed. Standing up, he held out his hand.

  She stared at his fingers. It was almost impossible to resist. That hand was lightly tanned and calloused. The fingers were long but blunt tipped because this was a man that worked for a living. He wasn’t a paper cutout. He was so much more than that. In fact, he was more than she or even his family had ever given him credit for.

  “All right. Just one.” Even to her ears the words sounded hollow and uncertain.

  Met took her hand and gently tugged her to her feet. Her low heels and plain slacks did not look as casual, comfortable, or even appropriate as the boots and jeans or swishy skirts of the couples already out on the floor. Daphne started to feel ridiculous. What must these people think of her?

  “You look perfect.” He leaned down and whispered the words right into her ear as though he had known she was being seized by a demon of insecurity. “I’m the luckiest guy in this whole place.”

  “Okay, that’s laying it on a little thick. Don’t you think?”

  She smiled up at him as he twirled her around to face him. They were in the center of the room now. He gently took her hands. The way his fingers brushed her palms sent a shiver of anticipation down her spine. The touch was electric.
Then he lifted her hands and put them around his neck. His touch was firm. The way he held her hands made her feel safer and more protected than she ever had before.

  She hadn’t realized how tall he was. Or perhaps she was just really short instead of kind of short. Having her arms behind his neck stretched her body full length against his. He was incredibly warm. His hands settled together against the small of her back. He began to sway slowly from side to side with the slow drawling beat of the music.

  Daphne could not stop staring into his eyes. They were so very blue. The color was intense the way the sky could sometimes be intense on a clear day. His face held such character. His skin was swarthy, and in another life, she could see him roaming the prairie chasing outlaws or something equally exciting and perhaps dangerous.

  “You’re very beautiful,” he murmured.

  They continued to sway from side to side as he turned them in slow circles right in the center of the dance floor. She did not know what to make of his compliments or the way he was staring at her. There was something very enticing about him in general.

  “You smell amazing.” The whispered words were not supposed to be said out loud. She felt her cheeks blush red hot as she realized that she probably sounded like a schoolgirl with a hopeless crush. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be ridiculous.”

  “You’re not ridiculous.” He leaned down a little closer. “You’re irresistible. And I should probably not be flirting with you.”

  “Why is that?” She licked her lips. They were dry. She was nervous. Oh God, she was so nervous!

  “Because we’re supposed to be working together.” He sounded so reasonable. What had happened to her reason? “I don’t want things to be awkward just because you know that I find you incredibly attractive and find it impossible to stop thinking about kissing you.”

  “You want to kiss me?” She could hardly breathe. The idea of kissing him was enticing. It was—she couldn’t think anymore. She could barely keep moving. In fact, if he hadn’t had his arms around her, she probably would have fallen on the ground.

  “Yes. I want to kiss you. I want to do a lot more than that.” He let his forehead rest gently against hers. “But for now this is enough.”

  It was? She wanted to protest, and yet as they swayed together with the music playing softly in the background and their bodies pressed together, she realized that he was right in so many ways. The physical contact was still there. She was not alone. She savored the scent of him and the feel of all of those muscles flexing beneath her hands. He surrounded her with warmth and security. She felt a glow of satisfaction and could not stop the smile that crept over her face. She felt cherished for the first time in forever, and it was good.

  His hands slid up her sides. He cupped her face and gently ran his thumbs over her lower lip. A shiver slid down her spine, and she began to relax as the warmth of his body seeped into her skin. He radiated the kind of heat that quickly made her feel as though she were on a beach somewhere lying in the sun.

  “You dance beautifully,” he murmured. “I don’t know why you were trying to convince me otherwise.”

  She didn’t answer. There was nothing to be said that would not reveal too much. She wasn’t a good dancer. She did not trust anyone well enough to let them lead. She was usually stiff and uptight. Her nerves were strung too tight for dancing. But somehow, with Met there was no need to be uptight or nervous. He was so blunt and straightforward that it made her want to be the same. He did not hide things. There was no feeling of being judged or those subtle cues that made her feel self-conscious. It was all absolutely genuine, and for some reason, that was the ultimate comforter.

  “I suppose I should let you go home.” He exhaled a huge sigh that sent the tendrils of her hair lying against her neck fluttering. “I don’t want to. But it’s getting pretty late.”

  “I should go,” she agreed. “I have to be up early tomorrow.”

  He pulled back just enough to stare down into her face. “Why do you get up early?”

  “I do a morning workout that starts at four.”

  “Four in the morning?” He groaned. “Darlin’, that’s too damn early. I haven’t been up that early since my days waiting for horses to drop foals in the spring.”

  “That sounds more exciting than my workout.” She felt her breath catch in her lungs. “You could come with me. You might like it.”

  “Doubtful.” He grunted. “I don’t move around so easily at four in the morning. That’s when my joints creak and I struggle to get all the way to the bathroom to do my business.”

  “You sound like a puppy that needs to be spanked.” She could not stop the giggle that slipped out. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t nice. I know it’s difficult when you have injuries that make your body feel as though it can’t even move around right.”

  “And I have to tip my hat to a woman that gets up before dawn to go work out.” He placed a kiss on the top of her head.

  The action wasn’t just startling. It was also heartwarming and so many other things that she could not classify it. She felt her pulse speed up. It was pounding in her neck and wrist. She could not believe that she was standing here on a dance floor with a handsome cowboy. It was surreal. This was not her life. She was not exciting like this. She was boring. She was very sedate and predictable and completely safe in her own not good way.

  “Well, if you ever change your mind,” she said huskily, “I’d be happy to give you the details.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  He stopped moving and took her hand in his. Daphne almost felt the urge to protest as he led her back off the dance floor. They gathered up their things, and he paid the check with a hundred dollar bill thrown on the table.

  Daphne started to protest, but he put the pad of his index finger over her lips. “If I don’t pay, I can’t say I took you on a date for dinner and dancing.”

  She should have responded. She should have said something, but she couldn’t. There were no words for what she was feeling in her heart. And she was still feeling tongue-tied and emotionally stunned when she was back in her own vehicle pulling out onto the road to go home. Somehow, she did not think her life would ever be the same after meeting Met Hernandez. He had changed things for her in a permanent way.

  Chapter Eight

  Met got back out of his truck and headed into Cody’s once again. He needed another drink. He had promised not to drink while he was around Daphne. That did not include the time before and after he saw her. Somehow while he was with her, he didn’t want to drink anyway. There was no need. He felt comfortable and at ease. Then her little compact car pulled onto the highway and it was like reality came roaring back with a vengeance.

  His shoulder felt as though there was yet another bronc trying to wrench it out of the socket. His ankle could barely hold his weight. And right now, he could feel his right hand beginning to shake because he wanted a drink so badly.

  Pushing his way back into the restaurant, he bypassed the tables altogether and headed straight for the bar. “Give me a triple bourbon,” he called out to Cody. “And just leave the bottle.”

  Cody chuckled. “Wondered what had gotten into you, Met. That’s the smallest liquor tab you’ve ever racked up in my bar.”

  “I was being good for the lady.” Met climbed onto a barstool and flexed his foot to stretch the ankle a little bit. Then he windmilled his arm to try and loosen up that shoulder. “Now I need to be good to myself.”

  Cody snorted as he set the bottle of bourbon on the counter with a glass. He already knew that it was best to just let Met pour his own drink. No bartender was generous enough for Met’s taste.

  “There he is.” The waitress from earlier—Met thought her name was Natalie—sidled up to him and rubbed her hip alongside his. “I wondered what you were doing in here with that uptight little girl. Business dinner?”

  “Sort of.” Met didn’t like someone calling Daphne uptight. There was no need to be rude. “She’s
a good friend.”

  “A good friend, hmm?” Natalie stood on tiptoe and whispered in his ear. “Well, if you want someone good enough to warm up that bed of yours, just give me a shout.”

  Met nodded but didn’t feel the usual shot of lust and need that would have once hammered him because of such an offer. Maybe he was just hurting too much to care about those other physical needs. It was difficult to imagine wanting to physically pleasure anyone—even himself—when he was so sore that the idea of moving his hips was an agonizing thought.

  “What’s going on with you lately?” Cody asked. He was still mixing drinks, but business was slowly dwindling as the hour grew closer and closer to eleven o’clock. It was a Monday night. The bar would close at midnight, and the kitchen had already closed at ten. “We haven’t seen you around. How’s the family?”

  “Don’t pretend you don’t know how my family is,” Met snorted. He lifted his glass to Cody. “The Hernandez family is always a train wreck. I think everyone knows that.”

  “At least you guys have enough cash flow to make it worthwhile.” Cody shrugged and held his arms out to encompass the bar. “Want to buy in?”

  “I might consider it,” Met mused. “I need a career now that I’m done riding broncs.”

  “You’re twenty—what are you? Twenty-one?”

  “Twenty-two.” Met sighed. “I have the body of a sixty-year-old. I’m apparently not good enough at the rodeo career to keep myself put together into my thirties like some of these guys do.”

  “They’re wearing helmets and body armor nowadays, you know?” Cody bobbed his head up and down. “You should have started that trend all those years ago.”

  “My father would have beat me senseless if I had showed up in the ring in a helmet,” Met snorted. He downed his drink. The familiar burn of the liquor going down his throat was followed by a lessening of the burning in his shoulder and leg. That was good. It was exactly what he wanted and needed.