Cowboy to Command

by Sabrina York

  “What happened? Is he okay?” Oh God. She hoped she got there in time.

  “He’s fine, Porsche. Don’t overreact.”

  “Don’t overreact?” she yowled. “You said he was in the hospital!”

  “He’s at the hospital.”

  “That’s not what you said. You said ‘in.’ ‘In’ the hospital.”

  “Well, technically he is in the hospital. Building. But Mark’s the one who’s been hurt.”

  “Oh God. Is Mark okay?”

  The silence on the other end of the line was chilling. Ford never wanted to say bad news out loud. As though a person was supposed to be able to absorb his meaning through the molecules of air floating between them.

  “Ford?”

  “He’s in ICU. Brandon is giving him blood.”

  “Oh God. How is Penny?”

  “Penny?”

  “His girlfriend. Blonde. Sweet.”

  “Oh, the nurse? She’s with Lisa. They’re eating lemon tarts.”

  Seriously? What did lemon tarts have to do with anything? How like Ford to include inconsequential factoids like lemon tarts and utterly fail to use the appropriate—and, frankly, rather critical—preposition.

  Whatever. She didn’t have time for this. “I’ll be there soon. Tell them I’m on my way.” She hung up without waiting for a response.

  Oh damn. Why had she driven so far so fast? Now she had to cover all that territory again.

  And how inconsiderate of Brandon to not have mentioned that he wasn’t leaving her before she set out on a fruitless journey to win him back. The fact that she hadn’t given him the opportunity didn’t occur to her at all. Or if it did, she brushed it away like an annoying gnat.

  It was better to focus on what she would say to him. How she could explain the fact that she’d kissed Cody and why, and how it had left her completely cold. And how she’d felt sorry for him and everything. She prayed that he would understand and that he would not toss her aside.

  And then, because her conscience smote her, she prayed for Mark and Penny as well. Because all that praying made her feel generous, she prayed for Cody too. Oh that he found love, of course, but more than that—specifically, that Ford never found out she’d kissed his best friend.

  Her prayers kept her occupied all the way to the hospital, which was saying something, because it was nearly sixty miles back from where Ford had reached her. It was full dark as she entered the small building. She nodded at the nurse in reception, Angie Tremaine, with whom she’d gone to high school. “They’re up on two,” Angie said. And then, as Porsche bounded up the stairs, she called, “Lisa brought lemon tarts.”

  Ah. The mystery of the lemon tarts revealed.

  Breathless, Porsche rounded the corner into the waiting room on the second floor and scanned the faces. They were all there. Ford, Crystal, Cade, Lisa, Claire, Cody, and Penny. Her hopeful expression fell . . . because Brandon wasn’t there.

  “Where have you been?” Claire hissed as she stood and wrapped Porsche in a hug.

  “She, ah, was taking care of something for me,” Crystal said, shooting her a speaking glance. “I’m sorry you were so far away,” she said, hugging Porsche as well.

  “Thank you,” she whispered in Crystal’s ear. The last thing she wanted to do at the moment was explain to the world how she’d acted so foolishly. And haring off after a man who wasn’t even gone was pretty foolish.

  “Wait,” Cody said. He turned to Ford. “I thought you said—” He ended with an eep. Probably because Crystal whacked him in the shins before he could say more.

  Porsche gave her another hug, just for that.

  “How’s Mark?” she asked.

  “Better. His blood pressure is stable,” Penny said.

  “Oh, thank God.” She pulled her new friend into her arms and hugged her as well. Penny clung and Porsche allowed it. “He’ll be fine. Just you wait and see. Those Stewarts are pretty damn stubborn.”

  Penny snorted a laugh. “That’s what Brandon said.”

  “He would know.” She didn’t mean to say the words as dryly as she did, but it made Penny laugh.

  Porsche’s stomach growled, and she glanced around until her attention fell on Lisa. “Ford mentioned lemon tarts.”

  For some reason, Lisa frowned. “They’re for Mark. But I brought cookies too.”

  “Cookies will do.”

  Lisa nodded and sprang to her feet. “Let’s get everyone some coffee from the cafeteria.” Those who had spent any time in the Snake Gully hospital cafeteria groaned. Lisa shot them a quelling glance and hooked her arm in Porsche’s. “Come along, my dear,” she said in an airy tone.

  When the elevator door closed on them, Porsche pinned Lisa with a dark look. “This isn’t about coffee, is it?”

  She sighed. “No. It’s not. I wanted to talk to you privately and honestly, with all those men hanging around, it’s impossible.”

  “They’re impossible.”

  “Just so.”

  “So what is it?”

  “You need to know, I overheard Cody and Ford talking.”

  Uh-oh.

  “Ford knows you kissed Cody.”

  Technically he kissed her. “Why wasn’t there more blood?” A simple question.

  Lisa lifted a shoulder. “I know. It’s weird. But Ford seems okay with it.” She scoured Porsche with a searching look. “Probably because of Brandon?”

  Her heart lurched. “Brandon?”

  “He was involved in the conversation too. He kept peppering Cody with one question, over and over. Why didn’t she like the kiss? And Cody just kept shaking his head and saying I don’t know. I don’t know. He seemed very perplexed.”

  “Brandon?”

  “Cody.”

  “He would be. Cody is always perplexed when women don’t fall at his feet.”

  “Right. And that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I know you and Brandon . . . well, that you have a thing.”

  A thing? Okay. Good name for it.

  “But I know you’ve always been crazy about Cody. I wanted to ask, how do you feel about them now?”

  Porsche fought back a swell of annoyance. Everyone thought they had a say in her life, or should have one. But to be honest, she knew they all felt that way because they cared about her and wanted her to be happy, not because they liked pulling strings. Lisa especially. She was the least manipulative of the bunch. So she swallowed her irritation and said, “Why do you ask?”

  “Because if you care for Brandon, there’s something you should know. Something I overheard him say to Penny.”

  Porsche forced a smile. “You overhear a lot.”

  “It’s a gift.” The elevator dinged and spat them out in the basement where desultory cooks were preparing desultory meals with desultory hairnets on their heads. “So? How do you feel about him? And it’s important.”

  They wandered toward the counter, though neither was in a hurry. “I remember what you told me,” Porsche said.

  Lisa’s brow quirked. “I say a lot of things.”

  “When you said you knew it was right with Cade because you couldn’t see a life without him.”

  “Yes. I did say that.” She took Porsche’s hands and squeezed. “Do you feel like that for someone?”

  “I think I do.” What a scary thought. But there it was.

  “Brandon?” Her eyes shone.

  “Yes.”

  “If you feel that way, you need to tell him, honey. Tell him. You owe him that.”

  “I will. When I see him.” And damn it, she would. She hoped to God he felt the same. Life without him would be a joyless existence. She frowned at Lisa. “So what is it you heard him say?”

  Lisa’s eyes went wide and took on a mischievous glint. “Oh, how about we let that be a surprise?”


  Really? Porsche glowered at her. “You said it was important.”

  “I did. And it is. But right now, I need to go upstairs and leave you two alone.”

  “What?”

  Lisa glanced over Porsche’s shoulder and smiled, so of course she had to whirl around and see who it was—

  Ah.

  Brandon.

  He sat in a corner booth holding a foam cup with both hands. He looked up and saw her, and he paled. He bolted to his feet and strode over to her. “Porsche.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her thoroughly.

  And heavens, what a glorious welcome. A glorious kiss. His scent infused her and filled her. His touch warmed her soul. He breathed new life into her with his intensity.

  He pulled back and scowled at her. “Where did you go?”

  She idly readjusted his shirt collar. “After you.”

  “I didn’t go anywhere.”

  “I didn’t know that. Brandon . . . about that kiss. I know you saw it.”

  He made a noise, something like a growl.

  “Please listen.”

  “I don’t want to listen.”

  Panic trilled through her. “Please hear me out.”

  “I don’t want to.”

  “But you need to know—”

  “I don’t care about Cody. I don’t care that you kissed him. All I care about is this.”

  He kissed her again with a ferocity that stole her sanity. It made her dizzy, his kiss. Made her ache. Made her weep.

  Still, she had to tell him. He needed to know.

  She pushed away. “Cody—”

  “Ah, ah!” He placed his finger over her lips. “I don’t want to hear his name again.”

  “But you need to know—”

  “All I need to know is one thing. Why did you come after me?”

  “Because I wanted to explain.”

  His expression fell. He paled even more. “Is that all? You just wanted to explain?”

  “I . . .” She wasn’t sure what he was asking. What he needed to hear. She didn’t know what to say.

  He turned around, as though he intended to walk away, and her stomach lurched. She remembered Lisa’s words. Tell him. Tell him. Tell him. They rang in her head like a very annoying claxon.

  “Get back here right now,” she barked. She pointed at the ground before her, just to be clear.

  He put his hands on his hips and frowned at her, though there might have been a hint of mischief in his eyes. “Are you issuing a command?”

  “You better believe it, buster. Move it.”

  Cade, who emerged from the elevator just in time to hear this exchange, said, “Dude! Are you going to let a woman boss you around?”

  Porsche glared at Cade, who had no business calling other men on the carpet for preferring bossy women, considering he was with Lisa. But before she could tell him to mind his own business, Brandon said, in something of a purr, “Why yes. Yes, I am.”

  Cade’s grin was slow like molasses, and just as sweet. “Well, good for you, brother. Good for you.” And then he did the smartest thing he’d ever done. He got back into the elevator and left them alone.

  Porsche turned to Brandon and took hold of his ears, because sometimes that was the only way to get him to hold still and listen.

  “You are the one I want, Brandon. You’ve stolen my heart and filled my soul and, if you’ll have me, I would love to be with you forever.”

  His eyes narrowed. She wasn’t sure if he was pleased or not. She quivered with fear that she wasn’t enough. That he couldn’t possibly love her. That he might think she was nuts for saying how she felt after such a short time.

  She waited on bated breath for him to say something. Anything.

  When he spoke, her stomach plunged. “And what about him?”

  “I don’t love him. I never did. I can see now it was only ever a crush. And when he kissed me—” Another growl. “When he kissed me, I knew for sure.”

  “Did you?” He stared at her, cold, hard, unyielding.

  “Yes.”

  “Prove it.”

  “What?” She blinked and shot a look around the cafeteria. This was hardly a private place.

  “Prove it.”

  “Prove what?” Nearly a wail.

  “Prove you love me. Marry me. Be my wife, my lover, the mother of my children, my sous chef.”

  She paled. Oh, God. “I’m a terror in the kitchen.”

  “I can teach you.”

  She loved him. He was, without exception, the bravest man she’d ever met.

  “I once immolated a Thanksgiving turkey.” He needed to know.

  “I’ll handle Thanksgiving.”

  “Every time I make toast, the fire alarm goes off.”

  “We’ll open a window.”

  “My boiled eggs bounce.”

  “Quit making excuses. Do you want to be with me or not?”

  “Yes, Brandon Stewart,” she said, stepping into his embrace. “I will be your sous chef.”

  He made another growl, but this time one of extreme satisfaction. He lowered his head, but Porsche stopped him with a finger to his lips, because turnabout was fair play and if they were going to be married he needed to understand that about her.

  She always got her own back.

  “What?” he muttered, annoyed to have his romantic gesture put on hold.

  “What did you say to Penny about me?”

  He tipped his head to the side? “What?”

  “What did you say to Penny about me? Lisa overheard it, but she wouldn’t tell me what it was.”

  “Ah. That.” He stared at her adoringly.

  “Well?” she snapped.

  “Just that I couldn’t possibly go with them to Seattle when Mark gets better because my life is here. My heart is here. My world is here.”

  “Here?”

  He smiled and leaned closer. “Right here, my love. Right here in my arms.”

  She softened against him and reached up for a kiss. And before he took her mouth in a savage maelstrom, a celebration of pure and utterly requited love, he added, “Besides, my dog is still at the vet.”

  And, of course, she smacked him.

  Epilogue

  “What do you think?” Porsche called from the living room. “Beef Wellington or scallops?”

  Brandon poked his head around the corner and gazed at her, his love, his life, on the sofa with an enormous back and brown dog draped over her lap. She was flipping through food magazines, trying to decide what to have for their wedding dinner.

  He didn’t have the heart to tell her it was a moot point. He was kidnapping her tomorrow and they were eloping to Vegas, because Crystal, Claire, Penny, and Lisa had taken over the preparations and the wedding had become a circus.

  Naturally, he, Cade, Mark, and Ford had had to do something.

  Hence the mass kidnapping.

  All of the guests knew the festivities would take place in Sin City—all but her best friends because not a one of them could keep a secret.

  It was just a damn shame Cody had to be invited too—but Porsche had insisted.

  It had been six months since Brandon had arrived in Snake Gully and he was floored by how his life had changed, and how much he loved it. Porsche was amazing. Every morning he awoke and just stared at her face, unable to believe he’d been so lucky.

  Sometimes she’d wake first and cover his face with wet slobbery licks. And then he’d realize it was Dougal because, seriously? Porsche never woke up first.

  For his part, Dougal had grown like one of those creatures you drop in water and watch miraculously expand. Brandon was pretty sure about the water, because Dougal seemed to be an unending font of slobber and it had to come from somewhere. He discovered—belatedly—it was a tendency Rott
ies had, but he wouldn’t change it. Not for a moment.

  Another thing that pleased him immensely was the fact that Mark and Penny had decided not to go to Seattle. Penny had taken a job in the hospital where Mark had been treated, and his brother discovered a love of ranching and purchased a property just outside of town.

  Brandon still occasionally danced for Cody and Cade, but only on invitation. He spent far more time doing private performances for an audience of one.

  Beyond that, Brandon’s restaurant was doing a booming business, especially since the Stud Ranch had signed a contract to have him cater their meals. People came in from all over because the food was so good, and he’d recently been written up in a Dallas magazine as being one of the best places for steak in the state—which in Texas, was saying something. They already had six employees, and it looked like they needed to hire more.

  Porsche was in charge of the business side, leaving Brandon free to create, and also leaving everyone involved free to not panic when she set something on fire. Which she did. With regularity.

  His life was pretty sweet. As long as he kept her out of the kitchen.

  “Well?” she demanded. “What do you think?”

  He wiped his hands on a towel, tossed it over his shoulder, and strolled into the living room of their house, enjoying the sense of belonging he’d never known before Porsche. “What do I think?” he asked.

  She wrinkled her nose. “Are you even paying attention?”

  He grinned. “I’m trying.”

  “That’s not funny anymore. It was funny the first bazillion times you said it, but it’s not anymore.”

  “Sorry,” he said. “What was the question?”

  She growled, but there was little heat in it. “What is it you think about when you so completely ignore my simple questions?”

  Ah. What did he think about? “I was distracted—”

  “Hah! I knew it.”

  “By how much I love you.”

  She glared at him. “You’re not playing fair.”

  “I never promised to play fair. Come here. I want to kiss you.”

  “I can’t,” she complained. “This dog is crushing me.”

  “Dougal?”

  At his master’s call the hound turned his head, revealing two dangling snot-like trails that swung dangerously over Porsche’s ice tea.