Cowboys Last All Night

by Jennifer Ashley

  And what about the rest of his business? He’d still been in the Army, fighting in Iraq, when his father sent him the paperwork that made him a joint owner of Linden Holdings. It had never occurred to him not to sign, but now he knew that instead of a thriving business, he’d become partners in an enterprise drowning in debt. At the time, Linden Holdings had consisted of this building, two apartment buildings and the accoutrements of his father’s deep-sea diving operation. Diving for treasure was Bailey Linden’s passion. Thousands of miles away in a foreign desert, Cole hadn’t realized his father had mortgaged everything else to the hilt to fund his trips until a new batch of paperwork had arrived in the mail for him to sign—paperwork that spelled out the deal his dad had struck with Cecily.

  His father had told him they had no choice but to sell the range building to her, but had assured him it was only a temporary setback. Cole cursed himself for not asking the tough questions. He’d been too young to push his father for answers back then, and too ignorant to even know what to ask.

  Now he knew all too well. His father had passed away less than a year after Cole left the Army and came home. When he took over the day-to-day operations, the amount of debt Linden Holdings was carrying staggered him. His accountant had sat him down and outlined the process of bankruptcy, but Cole refused to go that route. That would mean certain eviction for the tenants in his apartments—some of whom he’d known since he was a child.

  But without the range, how was he supposed to keep paying down the mortgage on the two apartment buildings that stood on the back end of the property it fronted? Heaven knew the buildings should be paying their own way, but they weren’t. Not with all the renovations they’d required in the last five years. He’d had to replace the roofs, rebuild the stairs, buy a brand-new hot water tank along with new appliances for most of the units. And don’t even get him started on all the new flooring he’d put in to replace the decades-old carpets.

  What the hell was Cecily thinking? He’d always liked the old woman, had been genuinely sorry when she passed away. Cecily was sweet to purchase the broken-down building and allow them to pay token rent to keep the range running. From time to time she’d stopped by, drunk a cup of the coffee he kept brewing all day for his customers, and seemed to take genuine pleasure in watching the men fire their various firearms at the paper targets in the shooting lanes. Cecily was great. But this... Sunshine... would be something altogether different. He was doomed and so was his range—and all the people who lived in his apartments, too.

  He shoved aside a pile of paperwork as he watched the blonde question Abe. Maybe he deserved to lose it all. A better businessman than him would have raised the rents to twice as much as they were now, but over the years his father had accumulated Chance Creek’s misfits and downtrodden. Cole couldn’t bear to kick out any of them, or to watch their faces when he delivered the news that their apartments would no longer be affordable. He knew most of them were keeping afloat by the skin of their teeth, just like he was. Liliana Warner was a single mother who worked as a housekeeper at the Big Sky Hotel. William Lake was eighty-two and living on a fixed income. Scott Preston, a veteran who’d fought in Iraq, was supporting two sets of grandparents on his disability payments. How could he turn any of them out, let alone the others?

  The worst part was he didn’t have a dime saved to start over somewhere new even if he walked away from the company’s debts. After five years of living on ramen noodles, Cole could see his way clear to putting his balance sheets back into the black soon, but if he lost the range, he’d lose the apartments, too, and then he’d have nothing. No business, no savings. He’d be starting over at twenty-nine. Some developer would come in and buy the apartments for pennies on the dollar, kick out the current tenants, do a nominal renovation, jack the prices up as high as the market would bear and make a killing.

  He hated to think ill of Cecily, not after all she’d done for his family over the years, but if she wasn’t going to leave the building to him, he wished she’d never even hinted at it. Losing it felt too much like a well-aimed kick to his nuts.

  He took a deep breath as he focused on the woman outside the building. Holy cow, she was a knock-out. He leaned against the counter for a better look.

  Holt cackled in his corner. “Thought you’d be interested.”

  “That’s your new roommate? Lucky break.” Jamie was staring at her too.

  “Not bad,” Ethan agreed.

  “Wouldn’t mind seeing that at the breakfast table,” Rob threw in for good measure.

  Cab held his peace and so did Cole. Pretty is as pretty does. She was definitely good looking, curved in all the right places with long, free-flowing shiny blonde hair that made her name not quite as ridiculous as it would otherwise be. She wore black leggings, and a nut-brown tunic that showed her curves to perfection. Her shoes were silly—tiny heeled things with thin beaded straps to hold them precariously on her feet. She had the determinedly healthy look he associated with yoga instructors. How old could she be—twenty-four, twenty-five, maybe?

  This was his new landlord?

  And roommate.

  Lucky him.

  “I’ll bet that lawyer’s explaining the details of Cecily’s will,” Holt said, and proceeded with a running commentary which nicely complemented the range of expressions flitting across the young woman’s face. Shock, surprise, anger, horror—it would have been humorous if he hadn’t known exactly how she felt. Then she looked in the window, met his gaze, and Cole felt like he’d been shot through the heart. She was more than pretty; she was drop-dead beautiful, with wide, expressive eyes and full lips that promised she could get up to all kinds of passionate shenanigans with the right partner.

  He was not the right partner.

  Although he would be a partner of sorts if she took her aunt’s challenge and moved in with him for four months.

  He straightened up and cleared his throat when he noticed the grins on his audience’s faces. “She might bail. A girl like that isn’t going to want to move into a rifle range, right?”

  “Looks like a spitfire to me,” Holt said.

  “Cole can handle her,” Jamie said. “He’ll make her life so miserable she’ll turn tail and run within the week. Within the day, even. Right, Cole?”

  That’s certainly the way he’d intended to play it, but now he wasn’t so sure. Cecily wasn’t a stupid woman and she didn’t have a speck of malice in her. She wasn’t one to lead a guy on for several years and then pull the rug out from under his feet. What if he was reading the situation all wrong? What if she’d had a plan of her own when she set up her will this way?

  He watched the slender blonde gesticulate angrily at the lawyer outside. Abe looked pained and he had no doubt the man wished he hadn’t been given this particular job to carry out. Even angry, Sunshine was beautiful. She looked smart, passionate, perhaps kindhearted.

  Cole’s next thought made his fingers press harder into the counter. Had Cecily left him Sunshine in her will?

  And did he want to accept this bequest?

  A smile curved his mouth as he considered this possibility. One look at Sunshine squaring her shoulders and approaching the front door told him she’d girded her loins for a knock-down, drag-out battle of the sexes, but suddenly he was sure he could win the prize without throwing even one punch.

  Ethan glanced up and met his gaze. The rancher chuckled. “I’ve seen that look before. You’ve got a plan, don’t you?”

  “Yep.”

  They all jumped when the door banged open and the woman in question strode across the tile floor. “Cole Linden?” she said, stopping on the opposite side of the counter. She ignored Jamie’s frank perusal and the muffled laughter coming from the rest of the crew.

  “That’s me.” He forced himself to meet her gaze without blinking, found himself holding his breath to find out what she was going to do next.

  “My name’s Sunshine Patterson and I’m moving in. You have an hour to clear your
things out of my apartment.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “You mean my apartment, don’t you?”

  Her jaw tightened. “Our apartment, Mr. Linden. I’ll need the bedroom and half of the space in all the other rooms. I suggest you get to it right away.”

  Cole rocked back on his heels, surprised at how much it pleased him she was going through with this. After all, she could turn out to be a real pain in the ass.

  Somehow he didn’t think so. Somehow he thought she was going to be the most fun he’d had in a long time.

  “There’s only one bedroom and I’m already using it. I suggest you find some nice swanky hotel for the night.”

  That seemed to catch her off balance. She glanced away, squared her shoulders again and looked him right in the eye. “You wish. You and I both know I’m not spending a single night of the next hundred and twenty away from that apartment. This is my building and come fall I’ll be waving bye-bye to you as you drive away with all your stupid guns.”

  “Firearms,” five voices automatically corrected her. Cole squashed the smile that threatened to quirk his lips. Miss Sunshine had a lot to learn, and he’d be happy to teach her.

  Jesus, he needed to get his mind out of his pants. At least for the moment. Plenty of time to go down that road later. Four whole months to be exact.

  “I’m a woman. I need my own bedroom,” Sunshine said. “You can take the couch.”

  Cole knew everyone was waiting to hear his next words. Knew also that if he blinked, he might as well walk away from the rifle range right now.

  “Make me.”

  She flushed, and her eyes sparked with rage and something else. Tears? Heaven help him. Before he could react to them, though, she’d blinked them away and whirled around to stretch a hand out to Abe the lawyer.

  “Give me the keys. If Mr. Linden can’t be bothered to move his things, I’ll have to do it for him.”

  She snatched the key the lawyer produced from his pocket and was out the door before any of them could move. She shooed away the transient man who had sidled out from an alley to check out the luggage she’d left on the street and began to haul it over to the side of the building where the entryway to the apartment was located.

  “You gonna go after her?” Ethan asked.

  “I guess so.”

  Right after he caught his breath.

  Chapter Two

  Sunshine’s phone rang again when she reached the brown steel door that led to her new home. Her hands were shaking when she fished it out of her purse, put it to her ear and simultaneously fit the key Abe had given her into the lock. She couldn’t believe she had to spend the next four months living in this dump with a complete stranger—a stranger whose presence unnerved her in ways she didn’t care to examine too deeply. His hands splayed on the chipped countertop of the rifle range were so large and capable—not at all like Greg’s manicured hands. His shoulders were broad enough to hold up a world of troubles, and his face—his face took her breath away.

  “Hello?” The key slid home and she turned the handle.

  “It’s me. What’s happening?” Kate said.

  “You won’t believe it. I don’t believe it and I’m here.”

  “That good?”

  “That bad. Not only is the place a rifle range and a dump, the inheritance is encumbered.”

  “How?” Kate assumed her lawyer tone.

  “In order for me to keep the building, I have to occupy it for four months, at which point I own it free and clear.”

  “Okay. You planned on doing that anyway. Is that all?”

  “No.” Sunshine tried to push open the door, but it didn’t budge. She angled her body sideways to it and gave it a good shove with her right hip. “I not only have to run my café here, I have to live here. Kate, I have to share an apartment with the owner of the rifle range for the next four months. A one bedroom apartment. If I spend more than one night away, I lose the whole thing!” Her voice wavered.

  The silence on the other end was ominous. “Kate? Are you still there?” Sunshine stood outside her new home, her shoulders slumped and her optimistic attitude lying in tatters at her feet. “Kate?”

  “Send me a copy of the will,” Kate said with a sigh. “I’ll see what I can do. Meanwhile, don’t budge. Follow Cecily’s instructions to the letter.”

  “But—”

  “To the letter.” Kate hung up with a click. Sunshine looked at the phone, then took a deep breath. She’d send the copy of the will right away. If anyone could fix this, Kate could.

  With renewed determination, she gave the door one more good shove and it swung inwards with a painful groan. Sunshine gathered her luggage and awkwardly crossed the threshold into a small foyer. She noted with surprise that it was neat, with a decent side table on which lay several pieces of mail and a copper bowl she guessed held Cole’s keys when he was at home. She could take in almost the entire apartment from where she stood. The foyer opened out into a large living space. To her left lay an eating area and a kitchen separated from it by a low counter. Straight ahead and to her right was the living room area. One door led to a small bathroom. Another to the single bedroom.

  The place was full of masculine, oversized furniture. A flat-screen television took pride of place in one corner, with a sofa positioned for the best viewing. Several bookshelves were filled with books, a point in Cole’s favor in her eyes. The kitchen was tiny—just a stove, refrigerator and sink, with minimal cabinets and counter space. There was no dishwasher, she saw with a groan. A serviceable dinner table with four chairs made up the dining area.

  The only thing that seemed out of place in this masculine haven was a large artistic photograph hanging on the wall behind the table. It showed a meadow full of wildflowers in bloom in the midst of a cityscape, with apartment buildings on either side and a dilapidated warehouse in the background. It was certainly striking, but she would have expected something more along the lines of an Ansel Adams print in Cole Linden’s home. Or a paint-by-number Elvis on black velvet.

  She moved hesitantly toward the bedroom, and closed her eyes when she saw Cole’s king-sized bed filling the room. Another flat-screen TV perched on a heavy dresser, and Sunshine could all too easily picture Cole stretched out watching a late-night movie. Even if she could remove that monstrosity of a bed, where would she put it?

  She gave up any thought of taking over the bedroom. It was the couch for her and living out of a suitcase until she kicked this interloper to the curb.

  Exhausted more from the events of the past few weeks than today’s traveling, unwelcome tears pricked her eyes and she bit her lip, willing herself not to cry. She hadn’t broken down when Greg destroyed her dreams and there was no way she’d start now. There had to be a way out of this mess.

  She crossed to the kitchen, opened cabinets until she found a glass and filled it from the tap when she couldn’t find any filtered water in the refrigerator. As she surveyed the apartment, she saw a door she hadn’t noticed before—another heavy steel door like the one she’d entered through. When she pulled it open, she found herself at the back of the building.

  Sunshine gasped. Instead of concrete and a dumpster or two, she found herself stepping out onto a compact deck. It was edged with boxes where small lettuces and a couple of young tomato plants were flourishing in the warm, early summer weather. That wasn’t what caught her attention, however. Beyond the deck, just like in the photograph near Cole’s dinner table, a vacant lot sloped down, bordered on the far end by two apartment buildings. Behind them stood an old factory and she caught a glint of train tracks in the distance. Had Cole taken the photograph from right here on his back porch?

  She stood, dumbfounded, until Cole’s very masculine voice sounded behind her. “Finding everything you need?”

  She jumped, but didn’t turn around. “Just getting the lay of the land.” She wouldn’t acknowledge her admiration of his photography skills yet, if indeed it was him who’d taken the shot.

&n
bsp; She suppressed a shiver at his closeness. She wished she had worn something more modest or business-like, not flowy and feminine, but that was her style and she hadn’t thought to change it. She hadn’t known she’d face an adversary like Cole.

  He took a position next to her and surveyed the scene before them. “I thought you were going to move my furniture.” His tone was hard. No-nonsense. He was better at this than she was.

  “I don’t think I can move your bed.”

  When his silence stretched out, she finally looked over her shoulder at him.

  To her chagrin, a sardonic smile turned up the corner of his mouth. A very sexy smile. “You could always join me in it.”

  Really? He was going there? Sunshine weighed the benefits of kicking him in the nuts, but visions of his pack of gun-crazy cronies coming after her restrained the impulse.

  “I’ll take the couch.”

  “Suit yourself.” He moved back inside and she trailed him into the kitchen, not knowing what else to do. He opened a cabinet and to her horror pulled out a stick of beef jerky. He pulled off a corner of the wrapper with his teeth and began to unwrap it.

  “You’re going to eat that?” Her stomach cramped just looking at the plastic-looking substance. That stick of gunk had once had a heart and lungs and feelings…

  He paused a moment, looked it over and took a bite. Sunshine felt faint. “Yep.”

  “Do you know what’s in it?” She clutched a chair back for support as he raised it to his mouth again. What a barbarian. He looked the part, she noticed, with his muscled torso filling out his T-shirt and camouflage pants. He even wore army boots. She shivered, picturing him with ammunition belts slung crosswise over his shoulders, a flak helmet on his head and a weapon in his hands. She was revolted by the image.