Romance: Loving The Alpha Cowboy: BBW Cowboy Romance (BBW Romance And Alpha Males, Western Contemporary Romance, Cowboy Romance)

by Lily West

  Loving The Alpha Cowboy

  Lily West

   Copyright 2015 by Lily West

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced

  in any way whatsoever, without written permission

  from the author, except in case of brief

  quotations embodied in critical reviews

  and articles.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any

  person, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  First edition, 201

  Chapter 1

  Cold and exhausted, it was fear that pushed Colleen to keep running. She pulled her arms up like a shield as she forced her way through a wall of tall bushes. Thorns tore at the exposed flesh of her arms and sides, her legs planting themselves and driving her through.

  Her shirt had been torn open, and Roland’s attempts to remove it entirely had only succeeded in ripping it to pieces. She’d lost her pants to some barbed wire a few miles back, the scratches on her legs still bleeding from it. Colleen didn’t look back to see if Roland was still chasing her. She didn’t need to.

  Just keep running. That was all she could do – just keep running.

  The next thing she knew, she was lying down on something hard.

  “What have we here?” A man’s voice said above her.

  Colleen cracked open her eyes, the early morning sun flashing across her vision. When had the sun come up? Sucking in air through her teeth, she shielded her eyes before looking over to see who had spoken.

  The most handsome man stood over her. His face covered in stubble from a few days of no shaving, and perfectly sculpted muscles over his torso and arms. His jeans were worn and sun-faded, and the tips of his boots looked worn smooth from use.

  He smiled at her as he moved his hands around in a shirt, looking for the sleeves before putting it on.

  “Where am I?” she asked.

  “Miss, you’re on my ranch.”

  “Ranch?” she repeated and looked around.

  The forest she had been running through was nowhere to be seen. Pasture stretched in all directions to the horizon.

  “Where am I?” she asked, unable to think of anywhere near the city that had such vast fields like this.

  The man lowered himself and spoke softly. “Now, I answered that one. Were you looking for something more specific?”

  Colleen forced a small laugh, hoping he didn’t think she was demented or anything.

  “No, I’m sorry. I’m just confused is all.”

  “Well Confused, I’m Tucker,” he said, holding a hand out to her.

  “Colleen,” she said, correcting him, and accepted his hand. He smiled and helped her to her feet.

  “Pleased to meet you, Colleen. Now, if you’ll pardon my saying, it seems you don’t have pants on.”

  Then, holding out his t-shirt to her, he added, “Or a shirt.”

  Suddenly realizing her state, she squeaked and took the shirt from him and held it over her chest as though it would cover her.

  “If you’d kindly come with me, I’m sure we can find you something that’ll do a spell while you tell me what exactly such a lovely lady like yourself is doing on my porch. I sure didn’t order you.”

  He guided her through his home to the bathroom so she could have some privacy while he picked out some clothes for her.

  The instant the door closed, she looked at herself in the mirror and grimaced. Dirt covered her from head to toe, old scratches had lines of dried blood going down her cheeks.

  Through the dirt, clear lines streaked her face where her tears had cut a path through the filth.

  Colleen washed her face first, using some water to get the worst of it off before gingerly washing with soap. The suds stung her cuts, but she forced her way through it in the same of cleanliness.

  God forbid she got an infection on her face. Wouldn’t that just be perfect. Using a washcloth she cleaned her neck, shoulders, and arms.

  She’d have to take a shower to really clean up, but she didn’t feel right asking. It seemed an oddly personal thing, to shower in someone else’s home, and she didn’t even know the guy.

  Of course, someone as good-looking as him, she’d shower with the door open just a crack and pray he was the type to take advantage. A knock on the door startled her, and she gave a sharp cry before coming back to herself.

  Tucker’s laugh on the other side made her blush.

  “Sorry Miss, didn’t mean to frighten you. I got some overalls and things for you to try on. If they don’t fit, lemme know and I’ll find something else.”

  “I’m going to be real honest with you, Tucker. I don’t think you could have anything that’d fit me.”

  “Try ‘em on anyway. For me?”

  Colleen sighed. That voice of his could get a girl in a lot of trouble. That southern drawl of his sent sexy shivers up and down her body. Unlocking the door, she opened it a crack.

  In came a hand holding some clothes, and then another hand followed with some boots. Colleen closed the door after taking them and looked at the clothes.

  Despite Tucker’s ripped body, the clothes he offered were more her size. How could he have clothes this size? They were far too big for him.

  Confused but curious, Colleen removed the tatters of her clothes and the t-shirt he’d originally offered to cover herself, and tried on the shirt he’d just given her.

  To her surprise, it was even a little big for her. The overalls were large enough, but too long in the leg. Undaunted, she rolled up the cuffs to her ankle before putting on the socks and trying on the boots. The boots were a bit wide, his feet obviously larger than hers, but they were good enough for now.

  Self-conscious and feeling horrid, Colleen opened the door to the bathroom. Leaning against the back of the couch, arms crossed in front of his chest, one ankle over the other, Tucker looked like something out of a postcard.

  He’d put on a shirt since she last saw him, and had on a white cowboy hat. Tipping up the hat with a push of his thumb, Tucker gave an appreciative whistle.

  “Well hot dog, I’d never seen my clothes look so good before.”

  Colleen smirked and gave a polite laugh, but knew a line when she heard one.

  “I’ll bet you say that to all the ladies.”

  “What ladies?”

  “It’s a, ah, figure of speech.”

  Tucker chuckled politely and smiled. “I know that. I’m asking, what ladies do you see about here? What ladies you think I talk to ‘round here?”

  Colleen shrugged and tried to play it off with a smile as she looked around the house.

  “I don’t know. I’m sure you have girls around here somewhere, right? There’s no way you’re here… all alone.” She looked at him. “Are you all alone out here?”

  “Not all alone,” he said with a smile. Nodding his head toward the door he added,

  “Come on.”

  Colleen followed him out the door. Their boots clacked against the wooden boards of the wraparound porch. The dust and smell of manure were noticeable now that Colleen had spent some time inside and away from it.

  Early morning rays were still streaking across the horizon, casting long shadows as they stepped off the porch and walked toward the large red barn nearby. Chickens roamed nearby, some clucking and flapping wildly to get out of the way as he walked through their small flock.

  “You have
chickens, too? Isn’t that a bit…”

  “A bit what?”

  “I don’t know, cliché?”

  “Miss, this is a ranch. I have a few cows, horses, goats, chickens, and a vegetable garden ‘round back. It’s not cliché. It’s how self-sufficient ranches work.”

  “All right, geez, I’m sorry.”

  Tucker stopped walking and turned to face her. Surprised at his sudden stop, she slipped a little in the dust, nearly losing her balance, but with a quick spin of her hands she was able to right herself and look up at him.

  “Is this how you treat people?”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Normally, I mean. In your every day. Is this how you talk to them?”

  Colleen looked around them to see if anyone was overhearing this, but all she saw were the animals, the dust, and the pastures. What was he even talking about?

  “I wasn’t talking to you like anything. I was just saying—“

  “That my ranch, my livelihood, is cliché.” Tucker reached out and plucked at the sleeve of the shirt she wore.

  “I dressed you without question. About to introduce you to my girls, and then I was going to feed you. Feed you, mind, from the food I make here. Vegetables I grew, milk my cows produced. Cream for your coffee, butter for your toast. That’s how I talk to people. While wearing my clothes, you insult my ranch. My pride.”

  “I’m sorry, “she said, and looked away when she realized how defensively she snapped out the words.

  “That’s how you apologize?” he asked, crossing his arms again.

  “What do you want from me?” she yelled.

  Tucker clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and shook his head. “What kind of people do you surround yourself with, I wonder?”

  “You don’t know anything about me, okay? So why don’t you, hey, don’t you turn your back on me!”

  Tucker continued his trek toward the barn, though his stride was far longer now and she had to rush her steps to catch up.

  “Who do you think you are, buddy?” She rushed forward a few more steps and stopped in front of him to make him talk to her.

  “You can’t talk to me like that. I don’t know how it is out here in the middle of nowhere, but where I come from, we treat one another with respect.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yeah, it is!”

  “Have you thanked me yet?”

  Colleen opened her mouth to say of course, but realized she never did.

  As she stood frozen in the realization of her entitled attitude, he wordlessly walked around her and pressed on.

  “I’m sorry,” she called to his back.

  Tucker stopped and spun on his heel. “Now that sounded a bit more sincere.”

  “I am. You… I imposed on you, and without hesitation you’ve been a most gracious host. I have no place to tell you about manners. I can’t believe I was so rude to you.” Colleen walked forward and laid a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry.”

  Tucker slipped a thumb under her palm, hooked it around her thumb, and brought the back of her hand to his lips.

  “Already forgiven, Miss.”

  Chapter 2

  In all her life, she’d never had a man genuinely kiss the back of her hand.

  “Please keep showing me your farm?” she asked.

  “Ranch.”

  “Right, ranch.”

  “Right this way.”

  The fact was not lost on her that he didn’t let go of her hand as he led her toward the barn.

  She’d only ever heard of farm animals. It was weird to meet these animals that were so familiar to her, yet she’d never seen one with her own eyes, never touched one, never smelled one. Cows were huge!

  Tucker moved like an expert, calming the animals to the newcomer, and warming them up to her.

  It took a bit of courage to reach out and actually touch one of his prize cows on its side. I’m touching beef, she thought. Beef looked at her, its massive head swinging around as if on a lazy hinge.

  “Hi,” she said, but those eyes just blinked at her, calm as anything.

  He continued showing her around, freeing the animals from the barn to go grazing out in the pastures. The horses, cows, and goats were as happy as anything to roam about.

  “You just let them go? Aren’t you afraid they’ll run off or something?”

  “Naw,” he said, “got the place fenced off. ‘Sides, they know where they get fed.”

  As he went about milking his cows by hand, feeding his chickens, and tending to the other early morning chores, he told her about him.

  This was his family’s ranch for eight generations now. It used to be much bigger, but they’d downsized it when it was his father’s.

  There used to be ranch hands, and every barn had been full, but the market had shifted and running the ranch fulltime had become more work than the payoff. So, instead of running it as a business, Tucker’s father decided to close it down and simply make the ranch their way of life.

  The few bills he had, Tucker paid for with his winnings.

  When she asked what winnings, he took her inside the house.

  Down the hall, in their own little room were shelves and display cases full of trophies. Each of them had a little image of a cowboy atop a rearing horse, lasso high overhead in mid-twirl.

  “Bit of a riding and roping aficionado,” he said when she gawked at all of the trophies and ribbons.

  “Aficionado?” she asked.

  “Hey, if you’re good at somethin’…” he said and she nodded.

  “Absolutely.”

  Colleen was so impressed, she felt the need to give the display all due attention. Starting with the left side of the room, she carefully examined the small plaque of each trophy and read each ribbon. Some were low ranking, but she noticed that each of those were from years ago.

  Gosh, he must’ve been just a boy when he won those. That inspired her to check the dates on them, and just as she suspected, with each year he placed higher and higher. Every ribbon or trophy from the last three years were in the top three, most of them displaying a big fat “#1” on it.

  “And you really make money doing this?” she asked, looking up.

  Tucker was gone.

  “Hey,” she called, going to the door, but still didn’t see him.

  It wasn’t until she heard sounds from the kitchen that she found him there making food.

  “You left,” she said and came to lean against the counter.

  Tucker gave a small laugh. “It always makes me a little squeamish when people look at my trophies.”

  “Why?”

  “I put ‘em in there for me. It’s a record of my journey, a reminder of all I’d done to get here, ya know? I’m not the braggin’ type.”

  “So, it’s like when someone is looking in there, it’s like they’re reading your diary.”

  Tucker pointed a butter knife at her.

  “Exactly.”

  That had to have been the sweetest thing she’d ever heard.

  For a time she just sat watching him as he whipped up the eggs and sliced vegetables.

  She wanted to ask what they were having for breakfast, but it was kind of hot to watch a man cook. All Roland ever did was ridiculing her at every meal, saying she was so fat because she ate so much.

  “What’s the matter?” Tucker asked, pulling Collen back to the present.

  “What? Oh, nothing.”

  “You looked real unhappy there. Don’t like omelets? I can make you somethin’ else.”

  “No, no,” she said quickly, “I love omelets.”

  “What is it then? That face wasn’t nothing. I told you about my trophy room. You kinda owe me.”

  Colleen smiled at the way he tried to keep a straight face. “I owe you now, do I?”

  “Well I wasn’t going to say anything, but since you brought it up…”

  The pan sizzled as the butter heated up and he poured in the omelet mix. The scent of what was to come f
illed the kitchen and she breathed it in.

  “Long story short, my ex gave me a hard time about food.”

  “Pig,” Tucker said, his face twisted in disgust as he watched the food cook.

  “He wasn’t the nicest guy, no.”

  “He the reason you’re running?”

  Colleen looked at the cowboy’s face and the set of his mouth. This was a man not to be trifled with, and that fact soothed Colleen’s anxiety in a way she didn’t think possible. Emotion caught in her throat, and all she could do was nod.

  Tucker beat a broken rhythm against the counter with the butter knife and nodded.

  “How about you stay with me, then?”

  “I—“ Colleen’s head shook on its own. “What?”

  “I got a few spare bedrooms in the back. Clothes, food. I got everything you need. ‘Sides, I could use the help. Got a competition comin’ up, and could use the extra time to practice. This boyfriend a yours comes ‘round, I’ll show him what happens when you show up unwelcome on my land.”

  “He’s not my boyfriend,” she said quickly. “Not anymore. Not after last night.”

  “Well then,” he said, folding the omelet, “you got no reason to say no.”

  Colleen licked her lip for a moment, impressed with how smooth he was. It was true, though. She had no reason to say no.

  No doubt, Roland would be camped outside her place right now waiting for her to come home. He’d rail and yell, and God knew what else.

  All of the city and its bull turned her stomach. Things were so calm here. In all her life, she’d never felt more at peace.

  Why couldn’t she stay here with Tucker?

  “You know,” she said thoughtfully, “I can’t think of a reason myself.”

  “So you’ll stay?” he asked with a wide grin.

  “I’ll stay.”

  “Hot dog,” he cried out and slid the omelet from the pan onto a plate. “And breakfast is served.”

  Chapter 3

  The days fell into a smooth groove after that. He showed her around the ranch and gave her duties so she’d feel useful.

  It kept her busy, and after she sat by the fence and watched him practice on his horse for the competition. Colleen had no idea what happened at these things, so she didn’t know what to expect.