by Myla Jackson
As she straightened her booth, the bell over the door rang and Sam stepped into the dim interior from the bright Texas sunlight.
Mona’s pulse quickened, her heart leaping into her throat. She wasn’t ready to face Sam or Grant. She hadn’t had enough time to figure out what she wanted.
“Change into jeans,” he said, without preamble. “We’re going to the rodeo.”
“Is that an invitation or a demand?”
“Whichever one works.” He nodded toward the back. “Go on.”
“I might have customers coming. It’s not like I don’t work during the day.”
“Do you have customers this afternoon?”
“As a matter of fact, I don’t. I had a run on rescheduling appointments.” Her gaze narrowed. “Did you have anything to do with that?” She shook her head. “No. Of course not. How could you?”
He advanced toward her. “Are you going to change or am I gonna have to do it for you?”
Her body trembled at his threat. “Promises, promises.”
Sam took another step.
Mona turned and ran, Sam following her up the steps to her apartment.
The last time she and Sam had been alone in her apartment for any length of time, they’d slept together. After Sam had made love with her and Grant, Mona wondered if he was still interested. She stripped the clothes she’d been wearing and moved about the apartment in her bra and underwear.
Sam stood at the door, his hat shading his eyes in the dim lighting of the room.
She gathered her jeans and a white blouse with a V-neckline she knew would display an ample amount of her cleavage. With the outfit in hand, she gave Sam one last chance, planting herself in front of him. “What? An almost naked woman stands in front of you and it doesn’t even raise your blood pressure?”
“Oh, it’s raised all right.”
“Then why aren’t you making a move?” She pressed her breasts against his chest. “Did our threesome change your mind about me?”
He grabbed her arms and set her away from him. “You’re doing crazy things to me, and I want you enough to tear through your panties and fuck you until you can’t walk anymore.” He sighed. “But, Mona, I’m not the man for you.”
Her pulse pounding through her veins at his coarse, sexy words, she blinked up at him. “You’re not?”
“No. Relationships are hard enough when both people are totally committed to each other. I like you a lot, but I’m not sure I’m ready to commit.” He brushed his thumb across her cheek. “In time, I know I’d grow to love you, but I just don’t have that time and I won’t ask you to wait for me.”
She nodded. “Fair enough. At least you had the decency to tell me before it went any further.” With the jeans and shirt still in her hand, she looked up at him. “No need to take me to the rodeo.”
“Oh yes, there is. Get your clothes on, I’ll be waiting in my truck.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “You really are special and you deserve a man who loves you enough to sacrifice everything to win your heart.”
“And that’s not you.” She leaned into him, inhaling the scent of leather, denim and aftershave. A sense of loss washed over her along with a flood of relief. She really hadn’t had enough time with Sam to fall in love with him and thankfully, she no longer had to choose between him and Grant. “Thank you, Sam. I hope we can stay friends.”
“You bet.” He slapped her ass. “Now get dressed. I want to find good seats.” He left her apartment, his boots clunking down the steps.
Mona stood for a moment, the relief of a moment ago giving way to a tightening in her gut and constriction of her throat. Though she no longer had to decide between Sam and Grant or both, she still had to resolve within herself whether she trusted Grant enough to let him back into her heart.
When the thought hit her, she realized he’d never left her heart in the first place. All those years she hadn’t dated, hadn’t been interested in other men were because of Grant.
Mona threw her clothes on and jammed her feet into her cowboy boots. Grabbing her cowboy hat, she ran down the stairs and hopped up into Sam’s truck. “Are we going to watch Grant ride?”
He nodded. “Uh huh.” Shoving the shift into reverse, he backed out of the alley onto Main Street and turned the truck toward the rodeo arena.
Sitting forward, Mona couldn’t wait to get there and see Grant. She’d come to a decision. Seeing him might help her solidify it.
Sam glanced over at her. “Did you know why Grant married Desiree?”
“He told me she was pregnant.” She sat back, not wanting to think about Grant’s ex-wife and that he’d gotten her pregnant.
“Did he tell you whose baby she was pregnant with?”
Her head whipped around. “I assumed it was Grant’s.”
Sam’s lips thinned. “It was Dalton’s.”
“Then why did Grant marry her?”
“He didn’t want her baby to suffer because of his and Dalton’s actions. When Dalton refused to marry the girl, Grant stepped in to give the baby a father.”
“What happened?” She’d heard through the rodeo grapevine that his wife had miscarried. “I can’t imagine Grant divorcing her because she miscarried?”
“No, he’s the type who’ll stand by a woman even when there’s no reason to stand by her anymore because he made a promise. He caught her in his bed with Dalton.”
The man who’d refused to marry the woman pregnant with his child, took her to bed after she’d married Grant. Mona’s stomach roiled. “The bastard.”
“That’s what ended his marriage and his partnership. He crawled into a bottle of whiskey and would have died there if I hadn’t pulled him out of a ditch in North Dakota.”
Mona leaned back against her seat, all her misconceptions about Grant swirling around her. He ditched her to do right by Dalton’s pregnant mistress.
“Why are you telling me this?”
“I thought you should know. And Grant wouldn’t have shared unless you asked the right questions. He’s not so proud of his alcoholic years.”
Mona sat in silence the rest of the way to the arena.
The parking lot was full so Sam found a place to park in the grass and they walked to the arena.
Once inside, Sam found seats halfway up the stands overlooking the line of gates and chutes where a cowboy prepared to ride a bronc. He balanced on the railings of the bucking chute and eased down onto the sorrel horse, shifting and slamming against the rails. Then he gripped the rope and leather handle tied around a horse’s belly, adjusting it to tighten his hold.
On the loudspeaker, the announcer called out the cowboy’s name and the horse he was riding. While the crowd cheered, the cowboy laid back on the horse’s hindquarters, gripping the strap between his legs, his heels at the animal’s shoulders. When he gave a nod, the gate swung open.
The horse leaped from the chute, kicking out his hind legs, coming down hard on his front hooves, jolting the rider. His hat flew off, he lost his balance and was thrown over the animal’s head.
The crowd rose to their feet with a synchronized gasp.
The man rolled to his feet and stood, and the audience roared their approval.
Mona’s heart pounded and she gripped Sam’s arm. “Doesn’t that hurt?”
Sam nodded. “Sometimes more than others.” He pulled a red bandana out of his pocket and waved it.
“Why are you doing that?”
“I made a promise. Now, listen.”
The announcer’s voice interrupted with, “Direct your attention to gate number six. Grant Raleigh, a native Texan, will be riding the toughest buckskin this side of the Brazos, Cowboy Killer.”
Mona’s fingers dug into Sam’s arm. “He’s going to ride a killer horse?” She half-stood. “I can’t watch.”
Sam pressed her back into her seat. “Sit and hush.”
The voice on the loudspeaker went on. “Ladies and gentlemen, you are all in for a treat. Not only has Grant been a five-
time All-Around Champion, he’s been a four-time bareback champ, and an inductee to the ProRodeo Hall of Fame.”
“He did all that?” Mona whispered.
Sam smiled. “Yes, ma’am.”
Mona’s pulse raced as Grant balanced on the railing, his gaze panning the crowd. When he saw Sam waving the red bandana, he nodded and settled onto the back of the buckskin.
The announcer continued, “I’m sorry to say this will be Grant Raleigh’s last rodeo. He just announced today that he’s retiring after this event to settle down and raise horses and cattle and maybe a family he hopes will be seen in future events.”
The crowd booed, the boo turning into a chant, “We want Grant! We want Grant!”
Grant gripped the strap between his legs and pulled it tight. Then he laid back on the horse, his heels resting on the shoulders. At his nod, the gate swung open and the horse exploded out of the chute.
Mona stood, her heart in her throat as the beast’s front hooves slammed into the ground, then he twisted and turned, his back hooves kicking out, all four feet off the ground at once. Again and again, the horse bucked, kicked, hit the ground and started all over again.
Grant held on, his hat screwed down tight on his head, his left arm waving out to the side, his heels spurring the horse’s front shoulders. A loud buzzer sounded over the roar of the crowd, and Grant sat up, both hands working to free himself from the strap. Two riders moved up beside the crazed horse, waiting for Grant to grab hold of one cowboy and slide to the ground.
Just as Grant freed his hand, the buckskin kicked the horse beside him, pivoted and launched himself in the other direction.
Grant flew into the air.
Mona slapped a hand to her mouth to smother her scream as Grant hit the ground hard on his back and lay motionless.
Cowboys rushed forward, the bucking horse was herded into a chute, and the crowd grew silent waiting for Grant to get up.
Sam shoved the red bandana into her hands and left her alone in the stands, racing down the steps. He hurdled himself over the fencing around the arena, landing in the soft dirt.
Mona didn’t breathe as she pushed her way to the railing.
When she reached the metal barrier she waited, her heart missing beats, her hand pressed to her aching chest.
“Be okay. Please be okay,” she whispered.
After a full two minutes had passed, Grant stirred. He reached up to Sam who took his hand and said something Mona couldn’t hear.
Grant nodded and Sam pulled him slowly to his feet.
The people in the stands leaped to their feet, clapping and stomping their feet.
Tears streamed from Mona’s eyes as relief washed over her.
“Folks, it’s just like Grant to put on a show that will leave you on the edge of your seats,” the announcer said. “Wait, I believe he’d like to say something to the crowd.”
Grant waved a hand toward a man who brought out a wireless microphone, switched it on and handed it to him.
“Ladies and gentlemen. There’s a special woman in the crowd I’d like you all to meet. Mona? Where are you?”
For a moment she didn’t comprehend his words, then she raised the red bandana. She squealed as a couple of cowboys converged on her, lifted her up and over the railing. Two more cowboys reached up to catch her and set her on her feet in the dirt and led her to the center of the ring.
Grant stood before her, alive, a little battered, but beautiful to Mona.
“What are you doing?” she asked, afraid to breathe, terrified this was all a dream.
“Mona Daley, I haven’t always been a good man, and you have every right to hate me, but you make me want to be better. I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather spend my retirement with than you.”
Sam leaned over and said, “On your knee, cowboy. Good grief, can’t even get your dismount right.” He shoved something into Grant’s hand.
Grant dropped to his knee and took Mona’s hand. “Mona, I’m done with the rodeo. I’m not going anywhere else in the world without you. I want to own a ranch and raise horses, cows and…a passel of kids that look just like you. Will you marry me?” He handed the mic to her and took her left hand, holding up a shiny diamond engagement ring.
Mona’s eyes filled with tears and she spoke clearly into the mic, “Yes.”
Grant slid the ring onto her ring finger, Mona handed the mic to Sam and she threw herself at Grant, knocking him over into the dirt.
He landed with an oomph. “Careful, I think one of my ribs is broken.”
“And that, folks is how a cowboy leaves the rodeo!” the announcer said.
Mona eased off him, her face split in a grin she couldn’t hide for a million dollars.
The crowd was on their feet cheering as Sam and Mona helped Grant out of the arena and to a waiting ambulance.
Medics checked Grant over while Sam stood with Mona.
“You knew about this?” she asked.
Sam’s chest puffed out. “It was Grant’s idea. I just helped it along.”
“How did you get my appointments to cancel?”
“Bunny.” Sam grinned. “She’s got a devilish streak in her.”
“Tell me about it.” Mona turned to Sam. “And you’re okay with this?”
“More than okay.”
The tall, slender woman Mona had seen Grant leave the Ugly Stick Saloon with two nights before stepped up to Sam.
Mona’s hackles rose.
“Hi, I’m Tacey. And you must be Mona, the woman who captured Grant’s heart. Just to set the record straight, he refused to go to bed with me because he was still in love with you.”
Grant limped across to them. “And believe me, she tried everything to seduce me.”
Sam slid an arm around Tacey’s waist and brought her forward. “I’m considering Tacey as my new ropin’ partner.”
Grant nodded. “You’ll have your hands full if you take her on.” He reached out for Mona. “And I’ll have my hands full with the prettiest beautician in Texas.”
Mona melted into his arms. Happier than she’d ever been in her life.
“When are you going to marry me?” Grant asked.
“How soon can we get a license? I’m afraid if I wait, you’ll run off to another rodeo or something.”
He shook his head. “The only rough riding I’m gonna be doin’ is in bed with you.”
Mona raised her hat and said, “Yee-haw!” Then she kissed her very own cowboy.
About the Author
Twenty years of livin’ and lovin’ on a South Texas ranch raising horses, cattle, ostriches and emus left an indelible impression on Myla Jackson, one she likes to instill in her red-hot stories. Myla pens wildly sexy, fun adventures of all kinds including historical westerns, medieval, romantic suspense, contemporary and paranormals with beasties of all shapes and sexy sizes. When she’s not wrangling words from her computer she’s snow-skiing, boating, riding her ATV or spending time with family. She lives in the tree-covered hills of Northwest Arkansas with her husband of twenty-plus years and her muses—human-wanna-be canines—Chewy and Sweetpea.
To learn more about Myla Jackson and her stories visit her website at www.mylajackson.com.
Look for these titles by Myla Jackson
Now Available:
Ugly Stick Saloon
Boots and Chaps
Boots and Leather
Boots and Bareback
Boots and Lace
Boots and Roses
Bound and Tied
Honor Bound
Duty Bound
River Bound
Coming once, coming twice…SOLD!
Boots and Roses
© 2013 Myla Jackson
Ugly Stick Saloon, Book 5
Bunny Leigh really shouldn’t care that her ex is days away from getting remarried. Yet the fact he’s getting hitched to the woman he cheated on her with stings more than she cares to admit.
It’s that sting that drives her to impulsiv
ely throw a bid in the annual Ugly Stick Saloon Cowboy Auction. To her surprise, she lands not only one of the best-looking men in the tri-county area, but two. The prospect of keeping up with two younger men has the shy florist quaking in her flower pots.
Little does she know, best friends Cory McBride and Jack Monahan made doubly sure their favorite florist won them both. But now they have their work cut out for them, convincing her they want more than one steamy night. They want a chance at forever.
Warning: A cop, a cowboy and a flower shop owner make the petals fly! And look what happens when the Ferris wheel stops at the top. Bring a fan, the heat’s rising at the Ugly Stick Saloon.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Boots and Roses:
For forty-five minutes, Bunny left the paddle on the bar, refusing to give in to her loneliness and bid on a paid-for pity date. One by one the men paraded around the stage, women bid and the gavel banged. One by one the chance for a date passed and Bunny slipped deeper into a blue funk.
Her lips still tingled from the contact with Cory’s and Jack’s, and she raised her hand to touch her mouth. No vibrator had affected her as much as those earth-shaking kisses. Once again, Bunny considered Audrey’s words. Maybe it was time for her to get out in the dating pool again and give love a second chance.
“Hold on to your belt buckles, ladies,” Charli said with a flourish. “Here to introduce the final act, the woman who made the Cowboy Auction possible, Audrey Anderson.”
Audrey stepped up on the stage with Deputy Monahan holding her arm. The owner of the Ugly Stick Saloon took the microphone from Charli and faced the crowd, her face straight, serious. “Ladies, it’s been brought to my attention that we’ve had several instances of sexual misconduct against our own Deputy Jack Monahan. I ask you to please keep your hands to yourself and respect the man who was brought here to keep the peace.”
One woman yelled, “Boo!”
The room full of women joined her, all shouting, “Boo!”
Bunny smiled. If she wasn’t mistaken, Audrey had something up her sleeve and she was playing the audience.