The Cowboy

by Vonna Harper, P. J. Mellor, Nelissa Donovan

  Next, depending on what he found out, he would head for Ferris’s office. If he could stop the development, he would. If not, he could at least get Ferris to do the access road.

  Which left him free to pursue Meg and convince her to marry him. His grandmother had already given her enthusiastic blessing. He tried not to worry about the fact that he’d had a hell of a time convincing Meg to even tell him her name. She was warming up to him. He could tell.

  The morning sunshine hit his sleep-deprived brain square between the eyes. Pulling his hat low to allow his eyes to adjust, he stepped out onto the beach.

  Yep, there she was, pacing back and forth in front of the oblivious construction crew, yelling into her bullhorn.

  He walked a circuitous path and came up behind her.

  “Stop the rape of the beach!” she yelled.

  He grasped her shoulder and spun her around, ripping her mask off in one fluid movement.

  “Son of a fucking bitch! Meg! What the hell are you doing in that garb?” Reality hit him. “You’re the grim reaper.”

  “Quick, aren’t you, cowboy?” She gave a tight smile and ducked her head.

  In the blink of an eye he stood holding nothing but the insubstantial black garb. “Wait! Meg!” He took off at a run, but the sand sucked down his boots with each step.

  By the time he reached the parking lot, she was gone.

  Muttering every cuss word he had ever heard, he stomped back to the house.

  A quick shower cooled him off somewhat. He needed to keep his head when he dealt with Ferris. Long-ago mental training from his rodeo days served a new purpose. It allowed him to put Meg at the back of his mind and focus on what had to be done. For now.

  The street parking was light, so he was able to pull in his truck practically in front of Ferris Properties.

  The front office was empty, but the door to Ferris’s office was ajar, and it looked like a light was on.

  Tyler strode straight toward the door, sort of relieved no one else was in yet. Gripping the cool knob and pushing open the door, he had his other hand raised for a courtesy knock when he saw them.

  The blonde was stretched out, nude, with her eyes tightly shut, on the top of Ferris’s desk, her grapefruit-with-nipples breasts jiggling with her movements. Between her fake-tan, spread legs, Ferris enthusiastically licked her bleached-blond pussy.

  Embarrassed on Ferris’s behalf, Tyler knocked and discreetly cleared his throat.

  Ferris shot out of his chair, his pants falling to his shoes, his pitiful pecker just hanging out for people to laugh at and point.

  Of course, Tyler was too much of a gentleman to do that—well, these days, anyway—so he turned to look at the blonde while Ferris adjusted his clothing.

  Not long ago he would have enjoyed the view of her slow movements. She sat up and actually had the balls to shoot him a sex-kitten look, skimming her hand over her more than ample boobs to pinch her own nipples. Next she dragged her hand down to pet her pussy, legs still spread wide, before she got up.

  There was a time when his jeans would’ve immediately shrunk at the sight. Today, though, he could only think how abused that part of her anatomy looked. And disgusting.

  Whatever Ferris had at home, it had to be better than what was spread on his desk.

  Finally—finally!—the blonde stood and picked up her clothes. With slow steps she walked past him, brushing her dampness against the back of his hand as she passed.

  It took great effort not to recoil and wipe his hand.

  Ferris walked to shut the door and motioned Tyler to a chair. “I had a call from your attorney this morning, Last,” he said when he was once more behind the big mahogany desk. He leaned forward, his hands on the smooth surface. “You have me by the short hairs.” He glanced at the closed door. “Especially now. Tell me what you want.”

  “Well, you know, right up until today I would have said a public access road.” Tyler stretched out the moment by adjusting the brim of his hat. “But now I think I want it all.” Their eyes met. “Stop the construction and sign my grandmother’s property back to her.”

  “I can’t do that!”

  “Sure you can.” He stood, adjusted his hat, and turned toward the door. “I think Mrs. Ferris would probably agree.” He opened the door and said over his shoulder, “You have twenty-four hours.”

  The front-office phones were ringing. The blonde, now dressed and pouting, answered it as the dark-haired girl hurried through the front door.

  “Meg?” Tyler willed his heart to stop beating. He didn’t want to know what she was doing here and what part she played in the whole mess.

  She just stood there, looking at him with that deer-in-the-headlights look.

  Had she said something, anything, he would have forgiven her. But she said not word one in her defense.

  He lost it.

  “I guess we really don’t know each other at all.” Anger simmered just below the surface. If he didn’t get out of there soon, he didn’t want to think about what might happen.

  Despite his best intentions, he advanced on her. It sent a surge of satisfaction to see her take a step back.

  “No wonder you didn’t want to tell me your name.” Another step. “Here I thought you couldn’t help yourself; you were so taken with my charm you just had to fuck my brains out.”

  Behind him he heard a gasp.

  “And I was so pathetic! I was actually touched—touched!—when you finally told me your name. Hey, I just noticed something. You never did tell me your last name. It isn’t Ferris, is it? ’cause I would think it would be a conflict of interest to have your lying mouth on my cock. And who knows where else it’s been!”

  Tears glazed Meg’s eyes, but he was on a roll.

  “Then to top it all off, I find out you’re the damned grim reaper who’s been causing all that noise pollution at the beach construction site. When I think how hard I got whenever I thought of you, and now I know all I had to do was walk out on the beach and flip up your skirt—”

  “Grim reaper?” Ferris’s voice boomed from the cinder-block walls of the office. “Meg, is that true?”

  She nodded, a tear trickling down her flushed cheek. Had he not been so outraged, Tyler would’ve felt sorry for her. Maybe.

  “You’re fired,” Ferris said. “Get your things and get out. I’ll mail your last check.” He stalked to the door of his private office. “And don’t be surprised if you hear from my attorney.” Slam.

  When Tyler turned back, Meg was running out the door. Damn, that woman was fast!

  But he was faster.

  He caught her arm just as she reached a tiny red car in the parking lot. She tried to jerk away, but he held tight.

  “Why?” he demanded, doing his damnedest not to be affected by the sparkle of tears in her deep blue eyes.

  She raised her chin. “Why not? I saw an opportunity and took it. Isn’t that what you want to hear?”

  “No! I want to hear that you were in this thing we had every bit as much as I was! I want to hear you say you had nothing to do with Ferris or his shady dealings. I want to hear you say you need me—need my help, I mean.”

  “Sorry. The job for knight in shining armor is antiquated. Probably been outsourced. Besides, I don’t need your help. Your help is what got me fired.” She got into the car, started the pitiful-sounding engine, and took off.

  She was wrong. She did need his help. He would prove it.

  But, most of all, she needed his love.

  And he sure as hell couldn’t live without hers.

  14

  M eg sat on the beach drinking a flat wine cooler and wishing she could turn back time.

  Tonight she sat alone. Sure, she’d done it thousands of times. But that was B.T.—before Tyler. She missed him with an ache that bordered on unbearable.

  She swiped at the lone tear trickling down her cheek and tried to rouse her indignation by recalling his harsh words. But, deep down, she understood and couldn’
t blame him. The facts were damning.

  Roger had withdrawn his beach project, and for the last week any construction sounds were from tearing down. For some reason she suspected Tyler was to thank for that. And she would thank him.

  Assuming she ever saw him again.

  For over a week Miss Hannah’s house had been dark. There were no midnight rides on the beach. Both Tyler’s truck and horse trailer were gone.

  Dang. She wiped at her eyes again. Why did she have to do something stupid like fall in love with the jerk?

  Vibration on the sand drew her attention. As the white speck drew closer, she held her breath, afraid to trust her eyes. Besides, they kept leaking.

  Horse and rider pranced up, jingling all the way. Good thing the sun had set, she thought, or all the white, silver, and sequins would blind her.

  Jim’s mane was braided with jingle bells. Jingle bells surrounded each of his ankles…Well, they would if horses had ankles. Then there was Tyler….

  She’d never seen such a beautiful sight. Her heart swelled just looking at him.

  He reached up, moonlight sparkling from the sequined fringe on his elbow-length gloves, and held his hat high in the air while Jim stood on his hind legs.

  As soon as Jim had all fours on the hard sand, Tyler jumped down and walked toward her with a dazzling smile.

  She hoped the smile meant he’d forgiven her.

  He stopped at the edge of the blanket and removed his hat. “Hi,” he said, his voice low. He motioned toward the blanket. “Mind if I sit down?”

  “It’s never stopped you before.” She took a swig of wine cooler and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “I’m sorry. That was rude. Forget I said it.”

  He sat next to her but kept his distance. Darn.

  “Are you drunk?”

  “Nope, not yet.”

  “Then I guess we should talk fast.” Removing his gloves, he tossed them into his hat at the edge of the blanket and then reached for her hand.

  Through fresh tears she looked at their joined hands and prayed he wasn’t about to dump her again. She couldn’t stand it.

  “Meg.” Tyler swallowed and started again. “Meg, I know I said some awful things to you at Ferris’s office. It was shock—and hurt—talking. I didn’t mean any of it.”

  “You didn’t?” She sniffed and wished she had a tissue.

  He shook his head. “And about that job as white knight? Would one slightly tarnished cowboy who happens to love you with all his heart and soul do?”

  “Would you repeat that? Please?”

  “I said would one slightly—”

  “No! The last part.”

  He scooted closer. “You mean the part about loving you with all my heart and soul?”

  She nodded.

  “I love you,” he said, close to her ear. “I think I have from the first time I laid eyes on you.” The horse snorted. “Jim loves you, too. Will you marry us?” He leaned down. “Are you laughing or crying?”

  “Both.” She sniffed again and threw her arms around his neck to pull him down for a kiss. “Yes, of course I’ll marry you!”

  He crushed her to him, his mouth taking hers in a carnal preview of what was to come. “Say it,” he demanded when they came up for air.

  “I’ll marry you.”

  He growled.

  “Oh, you want to know if I love you?” She giggled, sure her happiness would make her float away at any second, had she not been anchored securely within Tyler’s embrace.

  Smiling, she put her arms around his neck and played with the hair brushing his sequined collar. “Yes, I love you. I thought you would have been smart enough to figure it out by now.”

  “Hey, you give me too much credit. I didn’t figure out the grim reaper. I tell you, woman, I’m pathetic.” He stood and tugged her to her feet. “Let’s go for a ride and then make love in a bed like an old married couple.”

  She checked out his costume, head to sparkling toe.

  “I like your boots.”

  “You do?” He grinned down at her.

  She nodded.

  He pulled her into his embrace and nuzzled her neck and then whispered in her ear, “They’re my hero boots.”

  Saddle Sore

  Nelissa Donovan

  1

  “G oddamn it, Jake, if you walk out that door, don’t think you’ll walk back through it without—”

  “Your fist in my face?” Jake smiled sadly. “Yeah, I figured.”

  Dean brushed a hand through his shoulder-length hair. “That’s not what I was going to say.” As they locked gazes, Dean worked to control his temper. “It’s the wrong thing to do, Jake.”

  He shrugged. “Maybe. But it’s my decision to make, not yours. Not anymore.” Jake’s keys were already in his hand as he walked onto the front porch. “You taught me to stand up for what I think is right, and I think this is right. They belong here, Dean.”

  Dean was silent, his thoughts churning like a monsoon moving in fast from the south. “And we don’t? What about the horses, Jake? Would you feel the same if it had been one of our mares or studs?”

  The sandy-haired twenty-year-old scrubbed a hand across his clean-shaven face. “We don’t know for sure that the wolves are the ones doing the killing. They deserve a shot here. It’s what Mom would have wanted.”

  Jake’s words rattled through Dean’s bones. “Look, come back inside, and we’ll talk about it.” He tried to keep the heat from his words and from his eyes. Eyes that had a tendency to send people scurrying.

  “You mean come back inside and let you convince me why you’re right, and I’m wrong? No, thanks.” The lanky cowboy turned and walked down the limestone steps toward the trucks parked in the drive nearby.

  As Dean moved outside, a strange ache filled his chest. “Jake! Damnit. Get back in here!”

  His brother ignored him and kept walking. When was the last time the boy had done that?

  He’s not a boy. Not anymore, Dean.

  His mother’s voice whispered through his mind as it had many times in past years. Reminding him of what it was like to be ten or sixteen or now twenty. Reminding him to try to see things from Jake’s perspective and not just from the position of the responsible older brother who wanted to keep him safe.

  Dean watched as Jake threw himself inside his truck and slammed the door. The headlights came on as the motor rumbled to life. Dean stayed put as the ache in his chest slipped into his gut with a sickening lurch. He watched until the taillights of the old Ford disappeared around the curve of the granite drive.

  “Damn,” Dean said. “Friggin’ goddamn.”

  The encroaching night seemed to close in on him, the aroma of pine and evening primrose leaving him restless instead of calmed. Dean tensed. He knew it was coming. His hand gripped the alder door. Only one wolf—at first, but as the sun began to sink farther behind the granite peaks to the west, another and then another.

  Funny, but Dean felt like howling right along with them.

  “No, Jesse, I can’t ‘ just look’ at the GPS. I told you, it’s not working.”

  Cassandra Darling jabbed at the frozen digital display, her eyes flicking from it to the empty stretch of highway in front of her.

  She heard a pointed sigh through her headset. “Right.” Cassie bit her tongue to keep from letting Jesse know what she really thought about his comment and said instead, “Jesse, are you going to help me or not?”

  “Yeah, yeah, keep your pants on.”

  The clickety-clack of fingers on a keyboard told Cassie he’d been helping all along. She smiled. Jesse could be exasperating, but he was efficient.

  “All right, you’re going to take the next right at …. oh, let’s call it Nowhere Lane Number One. You’ll travel approximately ten more miles, and then turn left on Nowhere Lane Number Two. That should lead you directly through the center of … what did you call it?” Cassie heard a snort. “Oh, yes, the rip-roarin’ town of Granite Hollow. Try to keep your
powder dry, sweetheart.”

  Cassie laughed as she turned onto the nearly invisible side road—lane—and was still grinning when she said, “Will do. Same goes for you.”

  She could almost see Jesse’s dimpled smirk. “Don’t count on it. I deserve a little fun. So do you, actually, which is why I still don’t understand why you jumped at this assignment. You know it’s going to be nothing but angry hotheads and bleeding-heart toadies. Just what you need after your breakup with Mr. Rocking Climber Cheat and Run.”

  Cassie grimaced. “I’m not here to make friends, Jesse, or to prospect for a more reliable boyfriend. This release was supposed to be as smooth as butter. The perfect setting—the perfect opportunity for the pack.”

  “Nothing’s ever perfect, Sunshine. Not even you. Remember that, and don’t get too down on yourself when you can’t craft a solution that pleases everyone. Someone, or something, always ends up on the losing end.”

  A knot of tension hardened in Cassie’s stomach. “I don’t buy that. There can be a win-win.”

  Jesse’s chuckle was affectionate but edged with concern. “You keep telling yourself that, Cass, and it just might come true.”

  Cassie flicked on her headlights as the twisted road began to darken. “I’d better go. Don’t want to miss this next turn—wherever it is.”

  “Right. We wouldn’t want you ending up in Vail, doing anything so foolish as relaxing.”

  Smiling, Cassie touched the headset. “Ranger One, signing off.”

  Another sigh. “How many times have I told you? You’re number two. I’m number one.”

  “Good-bye, Jesse. Have a great night.”

  “Night, Cass. Be a bad girl whenever the opportunity presents itself.”

  Cassie punched off her phone and freed it from behind her ear. She hadn’t expected it to get dark so soon or for the drive to take so long. It had been a very strange thing to leave the crazy big-city bustle of Phoenix and begin the snaking drive east. Only an hour up the Beeline Highway, and the landscape had morphed from majestic saguaros, mesquite, and pale paloverde to leafy cottonwoods and vast grasslands surrounded by juniper and towering ponderosas.