Cowboy to Command

by Sabrina York

  “What do you like to do?” Lisa was insistent. On that count, she and Cade were a perfect match.

  “Um . . .” What did he like to do? He’d never really thought about it. In the military, a guy didn’t have to. “I like to cook?” And yeah, it was a question.

  Lisa’s eyes widened. “Oh my God. We could totally use a new restaurant in town.”

  Cade nodded. “We could.”

  “Yeah.” Cody snorted. “Bubba’s is getting old.”

  “Hold up there. I like to cook. That doesn’t mean I’m any good at it.”

  “You have to be better than Bubba,” Lisa said with a snort.

  “Ma’am—”

  “I tell you what. While you’re here, you can make us some meals.” She shot him a gamine grin and whispered, “I’ll let you use my kitchen.” Judging from the shock on Cade’s face, this was, indeed, a rare honor.

  “It would be a pleasure.” It would be nice to do something to thank them for their hospitality. “But no promises. Remember, I’ve only ever cooked for myself.”

  “Don’t worry,” Lisa said. “We will be brutally honest.”

  “We often are,” Cody added with a grin.

  The conversation shifted then, to some ideas Lisa and Cody had for the Double Stud Ranch, and Brandon listened quietly, enjoying the banter between the three of them. It felt very much like family, and he liked being a part of it.

  In the midst of it, Cade leaned over and asked, in an undertone, “Is your leg bugging you?”

  Brandon tried not to grimace. There was rarely a day when it did not. In fact, it had become so much a part of his life, he rarely thought about it anymore.

  Until he met a woman like Porsche, and the old whispers started up.

  A woman like her would demand perfection in a man, wouldn’t she?

  “Are you in pain?”

  Oh hell. Cade was still staring at him with concern.

  “I’m fine.” He forced a smile to make the lie more palatable. “Just fine.”

  “Well, what do you say we go into town tonight?” Cade suggested. “There’s usually a poker game on Tuesday night. I’d love for you to meet some of my friends.”

  “Poker?” He forced a smile. He’d never been much of a poker player.

  “They’re nice guys and, with the exception of Cody, hardly cheat at all.”

  “I beg your pardon. I do not cheat,” Cody protested.

  Cade grinned at his brother. “We know you do.”

  “I most certainly do not. I just happen to be lucky . . . charmed, in fact.”

  “Right.” Cade rolled his eyes and then clapped Brandon on the back. “So, what do you say? Feel up to a night on the town?”

  He didn’t. Not really. His leg was aching quite a bit. But it seemed impolite to refuse his host, and it would be nice to meet some of Cade’s friends. As he wavered, Porsche and Claire came into the kitchen, making a beeline for the platter of cupcakes.

  “Hey guys,” Lisa chirped. She chirped a lot. “We’re thinking about going to Bubba’s for poker night. Wanna come?”

  Porsche’s gaze snapped to Cody, who was licking the frosting from his second cupcake from his fingers. Her smile was brilliant. “I’d love to go to Bubba’s,” she said.

  And right then and there, he knew . . . he was going too.

  • • •

  Yes.

  Porsche’s determination soared. This was a perfect opportunity to find her man. Anyone who was anyone in this town played poker on Tuesday night. Anyone who was a man, at least. Surely one of them would be perfect for what she had planned. She didn’t feel right about stringing someone along, but if she could find someone who would be willing to play the part of her ardent lover, just enough to capture Cody’s attention, maybe set a match to his jealousy, that would do.

  Though, as she sat at the bar in Bubba’s, nursing her drink as she surveyed the field of contenders, her optimism dimmed.

  Wayne was there, sitting next to Ford at the table, and while he was nice looking enough, he had an odor issue. That, and his newest hobby was Live Action Role Playing, which meant he was often frolicking in the park wearing a leotard and a cape. Also, Wayne made no bones about his interest in her and the last thing she wanted to do was encourage him. She only needed a man until Cody finally saw reason and swept her up into his arms.

  Charlie was at the table too, sitting with Claire, but the hunky sheriff was her best friend’s man. It was a pity the timing had been off, because Charlie would have been an excellent fake boyfriend. But now that Claire had claimed him, Porsche knew better than to ask. The Silvers were notoriously territorial as a breed.

  A couple of Cade’s firefighter buddies were there as well, and while Porsche found a man in uniform very attractive, none of them really stood out.

  With a dip to her spirits, she remembered, all of a sudden, why she’d left Snake Gully for the bright lights of Dallas. Romantic prospects in a small town could be so dismal. But she hadn’t had better luck meeting decent men in the city. When her friend and boss, Crystal, had met and fallen in love with Porsche’s brother, Ford, and moved the company’s headquarters to Snake Gully, Porsche had been ready to return with her.

  The fact was, she just wasn’t a city girl at heart. But judging on today’s debacle, she was no longer a country girl either. She disliked the feeling of hovering between the two worlds, truly belonging in neither.

  But one thing shone through all the murk, and that was her dedication to Cody and her determination to win his love. He was like her anchor in a swirling sea. He was the one thing that had always been a constant in her life.

  Cody.

  She made a scan of the bar, quickly dismissing each and every man in attendance. And then, her attention fell on Brandon and something prickled along her spine. He was tall—taller than just about any man she’d ever met. And handsome. He wasn’t pretty like Cody, but he had a kind of earthy beauty. She liked his aura too. Calm, laid-back, with a hint of humor.

  And he didn’t live in town. He was just passing through. Claire had said as much.

  When this was all over, he would leave and there would be no messy ends to tie up.

  He would be perfect . . . if he was interested.

  He looked up just then and caught her gaze. It hit her like a sledgehammer. Ah, but that was nothing to the kick of his lips. That was rather glorious.

  Yes, he was definitely the most attractive man in the room.

  Besides Cody, of course.

  She couldn’t help thinking he might just be perfect.

  And then he went and proved it by folding his hand and making his way to the bar next to her. He levered onto an empty stool and shot her a grin. “There’s just something wrong with this picture,” he said.

  “What?”

  “You. Sitting here all alone.”

  She shot him a sideways glance. Damn. He was cute. “I don’t play poker. Leastways, not with Cody. He always wins.”

  “Cade says he cheats.”

  “Cade is a sore loser.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Never play Cody for a dare.”

  His brow rippled. “What do you mean?”

  “He did it to my brother. Played him for a dare. Ford lost and had to go skinny-dipping in the lake. His friend, Logan, ended up working at the Stud Ranch for a weekend. Oh, and Charlie ended up dancing onstage.”

  “The cop?”

  “Yeah. It was hysterical. But consider yourself warned.”

  He tipped his hat. “Thank you very kindly, ma’am.”

  “It’s the least I can do. You did save my life, after all.”

  “Happy to oblige.” His grin was alluring. “Say,” he said. “I’ve been wondering . . .”

  “Shoot.”

  “Your name is Porsche.”

  “Yeah?�
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  “And your brother’s name is Ford. What’s the deal with that?”

  Ah. Not the first time she’d heard that question. “What can I say? Dad loved cars. Especially those old muscle cars. I consider myself lucky he didn’t name me Mustang or T-Bird.”

  “Or Pinto.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “No worries there. No one idolizes a hatchback.”

  She batted her lashes, and he laughed. She took another sip of her drink and surveyed him thoughtfully. Apparently, this made him uneasy.

  “What are you thinking?” he asked after a moment.

  She lifted a shoulder. “Nothing. Just . . . wondering about you.”

  “Me? Nothing to wonder about. I’m an open book.” She doubted that. “Ask me anything.”

  Okay . . . “Do you have a wife?”

  His nostrils flared. “No.”

  “Girlfriend?”

  “No.”

  Something rippled in her gut. She eyed him warily. “Um . . . Boyfriend?”

  “Definitely no,” he said with a chuckle.

  Well, that was good. Excellent, in fact. Also excellent was the glimmer in his eye when he smiled at her. He might do. He just might do. “So . . . How long are you here for?”

  He tipped back his beer. “Not sure. I’m still . . . finding my feet.”

  She had no idea why this made him snort a laugh.

  “Lisa mentioned you just retired from the military.”

  “That’s one way of putting it.” He shot her a rueful glance. “Yeah. They discharged me.”

  “Honorable?” She had to ask. Not that it mattered, but she wanted to know.

  “Yes. Purple Heart too.”

  “Ohh. Very impressive.” She tipped her head to the side. “It must be strange, all of a sudden, being a civilian.”

  “You have no idea. It really is a different world.”

  “How so?” Though she could imagine, she asked, if only to extend this conversation. Not that she was interviewing him for a job. But she kind of was.

  “The rules are so clear in the military. Out here . . . not so much. Hell, they tell you when to get up, where to eat, what to wear.”

  She waved at his chambray shirt. “Well, you should wear that all the time.”

  The laugh lines around his eyes crinkled. “Should I?”

  “Total chick magnet.”

  His grin was dazzling. “Good to know.”

  Their gazes tangled and she asked, just to break the humming tension, “What branch were you in?”

  “Navy.”

  “Mmm.” He was a squid.

  “SEALs.”

  Her eyes widened. “Really?” Oh, that was good. That was very good.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  For some reason his tone made her shiver. “So . . .” she gusted, hunting for a topic, something that would ease them back into a casual banter, one that was not so intense. “What are you going to do, now that you’re no longer one of America’s Finest?”

  He winced and she immediately regretted her choice of words. But she didn’t have time to apologize, because he took the question at face value. “Cade and Lisa were asking me that too, and the truth is, I don’t know. I never envisioned anything for myself, except being a SEAL.”

  “Have you considered the circus?”

  He grinned. She loved that he got her offbeat sense of humor. “I have. But the fact of the matter is, I’m afraid of clowns.”

  “Oh my God.” She leaned closer—surely not so she could smell his cologne. “Me too. They are so creepy.”

  “I never understood the attraction.”

  “Me either. All that thick makeup—”

  “The honky nose—”

  “Revolting multicolored wigs—”

  “Laughter,” he said with a straight face. “I hate laughter.”

  “Me too.”

  They sat in silence for a moment, sipping their drinks and reveling in this deep, spiritual connection that only a mutual hatred of clowns could incite. And then he asked, “What else do you hate?”

  “Mimes.”

  He nodded. “Well, that goes without saying.”

  “True. Let me see. Mmm. Commercials on TV for medical supplies.”

  “The ones where they reel off how you’re at risk for everything from impotence to lethal farts . . . just to deal with a little acne?”

  “Oh yeah, but I was thinking specifically of the ones for catheters.”

  He blinked. “They have commercials for catheters?”

  “Very late at night, but yeah. They do.” She nodded solemnly, biting back her smile. She loved that they could banter like this. Very few people could match her snark. This was very encouraging.

  “So people who use catheters are sitting around at two a.m. watching TV?”

  “Probably. Just sitting there, wishing they could pee.”

  He tried to hide his snorted laugh but failed. “Hate when that happens.”

  “Me too. But . . .” She turned to him and fluttered her lashes. “I have a confession to make.”

  “Yes?”

  Damn, his eyes were beautiful.

  “I hate all commercials. Well, except for the ones with the puppy and the Clydesdale.”

  “Yeah.” He nodded and gave her a quick once-over. “You strike me as a puppy kind of girl.”

  “Do I?” She primped.

  “Do you like dogs?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “Me too.” He paused for a moment and she had the sense he was preparing to tell her his deepest, darkest secret. “I just got one.”

  “A dog?”

  “A puppy. I thought it would be a good idea. I’m traveling the country all alone, and it seemed like a good idea to have company. But I’ve never had a dog before.” He shot her a look that might have been wreathed in panic. “I have no idea what to do with him.”

  “Do with him? You just feed him and play with him.”

  “There’s more to it than that. I’m trying to train him, but he just doesn’t seem to understand what I’m saying to him.”

  “Does he speak English?” When he frowned at her she shot him a mischievous grin. “Maybe there’s a language barrier.”

  “Oh, there’s a language barrier all right. But I thought all dogs instinctively knew how to sit and stay. I thought they just understood that pooping happens outside.”

  She had to laugh at that. “Oh no. Dogs are very much like men in that they need to be trained.”

  He ignored the jibe, or not, judging from the way he narrowed his eyes. “Well, Dougal doesn’t know anything. And when I tell him to come or fetch, he just stares at me like I’m speaking gibberish.”

  “His name is Dougal?” How adorable. “What kind of dog is he?”

  “A Rottie mix. I got him at the shelter in Austin.”

  Her heart warmed. She’d always had shelter dogs. Probably because she’d always liked the idea of saving someone. “Why have you never had a dog before?” The thought was nearly incomprehensible.

  “My dad was in the army. We moved a lot. And a lot of overseas posts didn’t allow them. It just wouldn’t have been fair. To anyone.”

  How sad. She was so glad he had a dog now. Everyone should have one, in her opinion. “Well, if you like, I’d be happy to work with him.”

  He glanced at her in surprise. “Really?”

  “Sure.”

  “Are you a dog whisperer?”

  She laughed. “Not hardly, but I had lots of dogs growing up, so I’m sure I can help.”

  He smiled again, and the brilliance of his delight nearly blinded her. “I would appreciate that a lot.”

  “Sure.”

  “If you could get him to poop in the box, that would be a great help.”
>
  She gaped at him. “In the . . . box?”

  He nodded.

  Oh dear. She patted him on the shoulder. “We have got to talk.”

  “Well hey. What are you two up to over here?”

  To her surprise, Cody had come up behind them and she hadn’t even noticed. She’d been so engrossed in the conversation with Brandon, she’d let go of her razor-sharp fix on him.

  “Just chatting,” Brandon said.

  Cody tugged on Brandon’s sleeve. “Why don’t you come back and play a couple more hands?”

  “I’m broke. You cleaned me out.”

  Cody’s face broke into an evil grin. “No worries. We can play for a dare.”

  Porsche shot him a warning glance, and Brandon chuckled. “Sorry Cody. I’ve heard about those. I’m not getting sucked in.”

  She wasn’t sure if she should be thrilled by Cody’s pout as he studied the two of them sitting so close, or not. There was definitely something in his eye that looked like a flicker of disgruntlement, but whether it was because he was jealous or because she’d warned Brandon off remained to be seen.

  Regardless, she had made a decision.

  She was going to issue a proposition to this hunky SEAL.

  She hoped he said yes.

  Chapter Four

  Brandon tried not to be too excited as he prepared for the day in the camper Cade had allowed him to park beside the bunkhouse, but if Porsche was as good as her word, she was coming over first thing. He’d barely been able to sleep all night.

  Of course, part of that had been the ache in his leg—it did that—and part of it could have been the fact that Dougal had curled up on the pillow close to his head and insisted on farting in his face all night.

  It was probably a good idea for him to reevaluate what he’d been feeding the monster.

  Hell, he’d already been wondering if he’d made a monumental mistake getting a dog, considering he had such a small living space. And then there was the fact that he wasn’t sure where the future was taking him, much less this mutt. And then there was Dougal himself—his inability to understand a single command, his propensity for peeing on everything, and a compulsive need to shred every scrap of paper in the camper—including and especially the toilet paper. Not to mention the fact that he thought it was an adorable game to close his maw on Brandon’s leg and try to tip him over.