Part Time Cowboy (Copper Ridge Book 1)

by Maisey Yates

  She slipped out of bed and hunted for her clothes, tugging them on before she went downstairs and helped herself to Eli’s mugs and his coffeemaker, humming absently as she did.

  She remembered that he ordered lattes and pulled some milk out of the fridge, nuking it in the microwave, then whisking it while the coffee brewed. Then she added a generous helping to his coffee, along with some sugar. Leaving her own coffee fairly underdressed with a dollop of warm milk and a little sugar. When she got back upstairs, Eli was out of bed, standing in the center of the room, naked and looking a little lost.

  “You’re still here,” he said, when she walked in.

  “Yes, I am. And I come bearing caffeine.”

  “Well, then, I’m very glad you stayed,” he said.

  “Is that the only reason?”

  “No.”

  “Well, good. A woman hates to be wanted only for her bean-brewing skills. Though mine are legend. And no man has ever benefited from them. But they will at the B and B.”

  Eli frowned and set his mug on the nightstand, grabbing his black boxer briefs and T-shirt from the ground, throwing both on, then retrieving his mug. “What do you mean no man has ever benefited from your skills?”

  “I’m not into sleepovers,” she said, smiling, trying to keep it a little lighter than things had been between them. She turned away from him, and he caught her arm, turning her back.

  “What does that mean?”

  Oh, damn Eli. Why did he always want to know what something meant?

  “It means that I like to sleep alone, which I’ve told you before. And it means that I’ve always slept alone. Whiz, whir, thank you, sir, if you will.”

  “Why, Sadie?”

  “Because I don’t do close, okay?” she said, realizing as the words slipped out of her mouth, cranky, curt and very pre-coffee in attitude, that they were true.

  It was easy to pretend she was fine. That she had normal relationships and let them go when they weren’t working because she didn’t need conflict, because she wasn’t going to submit to a life of unhappiness and violence under the guise of sick, twisted love, like her mother had done.

  But the simple truth was, she didn’t do heavy, because she didn’t want to get close to anyone. She didn’t let her boyfriends spend the night for the same reason she lived in a place for only a couple of years at a time.

  She didn’t want to bond with anything. She didn’t want to need anyone.

  She blinked, standing there frozen in the middle of Eli’s bedroom having an epiphany. “I don’t like to let people get close to me,” she repeated, the words making the back of her neck prickle.

  “Why?” he asked.

  “Because people hurt you.” That was true, too. She was filled with truth. She needed to be filled with coffee, so her truth could stay in. In and buried, like it normally was.

  He nodded slowly and walked toward the French doors, undoing the latch on one and opening it out, and onto the deck that wrapped around the second floor of the house.

  “Care to take your unheard-of morning-after coffee out on the deck?”

  “Oh, why not?” she said, lifting a shoulder and following him outside. He set his mug on the railing, and she did the same, resting her elbows on the rough wood and looking out at the view.

  She tried to see through the trees, past the closest branches, to see what was beyond, but they were like a dark blot of green ink, bleeding together to cover the blankness.

  “I’m sort of mad at you,” she said, looking down into her coffee, listening to the wind rustle through the trees, to the birds that were just starting to wake up.

  “Why?”

  “I thought I was really well-adjusted before I met you.”

  “Did I...maladjust you?”

  “No, you just had the balls to point out that I’m a total head case. No man before you has dared.”

  “Every man before me got the boot out the door too quickly.”

  She waved her hand. “Eh. Granted. All right,” she said. “Why is your house so clean?”

  “Because otherwise it gets chaotic. And out of control. And I’ve lived that way before. I won’t live that way again.”

  “Your dad?”

  “Yes. He was a mess, Sadie. I took care of Kate, but my dad was like another child at a certain point. He made bad decisions, and it was up to me to clean it up. Cover it up. Before my mom left he was okay.”

  “He never got over your mom?”

  He lifted a shoulder. “Probably at some point he was just an alcoholic who liked booze. Probably there was a point where he’d forgotten why he ever started drinking. But that’s just a theory. There was always so much to take care of.”

  “It explains you.”

  He looked at her, his eyes blank. “I failed him, though. In the end.”

  “What?”

  “The night he died. Whenever Dad got drunk, I used to take his keys and hide them. That was my routine. Dad was drunk every night, for the record, so I knew to hide his keys every night.”

  “Eli, you should have never had to deal with all that.”

  “But I did. We don’t get to choose our lot, we choose what we do with it. Except...the night my dad died I decided not to go home after my shift. I was out. Connor and Jessie lived in the cabin Kate lives in now. My dad and I were in the main house. I hadn’t moved out because he needed someone. And I knew he needed someone. But that night, I figured he was probably passed out so I didn’t need to go home. Went out with a bunch of guys from the department instead. And a call came in over the radio.”

  “Oh...Eli.”

  “Yeah, well...it’s been a long time. And my dad was not a father to me, not really. But that doesn’t change the fact that I let him down. He was impaired, always. And he needed someone to help manage his decisions. I wasn’t there and he died.”

  “You can’t honestly blame yourself...”

  “You blame me for not saving you from abuse I didn’t even know about. Of course I blame myself for this.”

  “Eli, I don’t really blame you...”

  “You do,” he said. “And I understand. It’s because I’ve promised to protect people. If I just said screw it like...like Connor does, then I wouldn’t expect better. And no one else would, either. But if I say I’ll take care of it, I better. And I haven’t always. I’ve failed a lot of people.”

  “I’m sure you’ve helped more people,” she said, her stomach clenching.

  “But I failed where it really matters.”

  “But it was his fault.”

  “Does it matter?” he asked, turning his back to the view, leaning against the railing. “Does it matter if you know you should feel a different way about it?”

  She thought about how she’d felt when her blame had poured out of her back in the woods. About how she’d been carrying that feeling around, buried deep and low, for years.

  “I guess not,” she said. “But...you shouldn’t feel that way.”

  He lifted a shoulder. “Sure.”

  “Do we get some sort of...accolades for exposing just how screwed up we both are?” she asked. “Because I figured this just-sex thing would involve a lot less talking.”

  “Then why are we talking?” he asked.

  “Because. I spent a lot of years listening for a living and never met anyone I wanted to talk to. And...I want to talk to you. But I don’t always like the things that get said.”

  “Neither do I.”

  “Maybe we should stop talking, then,” she said, moving to him and curling her hand around his neck, kissing him.

  “I have to be at work in an hour.”

  “I can get a lot done with twenty minutes. Just you wait and see.”

  * * *

  SADIE WAS ACTUALLY NERVOUS. Like...upchucking nervous. The barbecue was today. Booths were being set up. Volunteers were on hand, paid workers were on hand, individual vendors were on hand.

  Over the past week she’d finalized everything for the bar
becue, bought new linens for the B and B, and perfected her menu, and also during that past week, she’d been sleeping with Eli, either at his place or hers.

  She liked to think that had something to do with how well things were going. If for no other reason than being with him made her feel very good.

  She paced the open field area where everything was being set up. The good thing about getting local businesses to participate was that everyone basically saw to their own booth once she directed them.

  Barbecues were already being fired up for the cook-off, very large pots of beans and potato salad were either heating or chilling. Beer on tap was at hand. Kate and Jack were in the large uncovered arena ready to do some rodeo work and to show some basic roping techniques.

  And Jack was even coordinating a round of mutton busting, with prizes donated from the Farm and Garden. She wondered if Connor had checked with his insurance about that. She imagined not.

  Jack and Kate had proven to be enthusiastic additions, and their passion for the events was contagious. It was also enticing a whole new segment of the county to the barbecue.

  The only booth that was empty was Alison’s. And it was starting to make Sadie wring her hands in despair. Well, she could get pies from the grocery store for the contest if she had to. But she doubted it would make for as special a dessert booth as she’d planned. In fact, without the homemade stuff, it felt like a “why bother.”

  But considering what had happened the last time she’d seen Alison, she wasn’t that surprised.

  “Sadie!”

  Sadie turned and saw Lydia, her favorite intrepid Chamber of Commerce representative and fellow admirer of Eli’s butt. “Hi, Lydia. You’re out early.”

  The other woman smiled. “Yes, I am. I thought I would see how it was all shaping up.”

  “Nicely,” Sadie said, surveying the grounds. “It just might not fail.”

  “Eli would never let it fail,” Lydia said. “Not to say you would,” she quickly amended. “Only that I’ve known Eli for the past six years and he’s always been so stable and organized. Just one of the many reasons I’m wholeheartedly endorsing his bid for sheriff.”

  Sadie scanned the field, looking for Eli. She didn’t see him. “Yeah, I definitely think he’s the man for the job,” she said.

  She thought back to last week’s conversation on his porch. About how he felt like he failed when it came to caring for people.

  She couldn’t understand it.

  Maybe because you suck and you threw a bunch of your issues at him?

  Maybe because I really feel that way, she argued back with herself. Because maybe...if I ever thought there was such a thing as a knight in shining armor, it would have been him.

  She didn’t even bother to push the thought away.

  Didn’t bother to pretend there wasn’t more swirling around inside of her than simple lust.

  Somehow, in the space of a month and a half, she’d gone from disliking Eli immensely to...well, whatever this thing was where she felt like the sun hadn’t really risen until she saw his face.

  Whatever you called that.

  “Sadie.” Lydia interrupted her train of thought. “I was wondering if you wanted to get brochures for the B and B down to the Chamber. And also, I was wondering if we could put some brochures in the B and B for some other businesses. Tourist attractions, whale-watching excursions, things like that.”

  “That would be great!” Sadie said, feeling strangely warm toward Lydia at the moment. Not that she was cold toward her normally, but it was a little awkward to talk to the woman you knew had a thing for the guy you were semi-secretly sleeping with.

  “Beneficial for all,” Lydia said. “Oh, there he is!” Her smile broadened when she saw Eli, and Sadie felt a sliver of guilt push its way beneath her skin. Lydia was more Eli’s type. They made sense. She was organized, passionate about the community. Caring.

  She wasn’t terrified of interpersonal connection and more likely than your average startled house cat to tear off and hide under the furniture than forge any kind of meaningful relationship with someone.

  Except...she and Eli did have a meaningful relationship. She could feel it. She was carrying it around in her chest, and it weighed a ton. And it was effing inconvenient.

  “Eli!” Lydia called, waving.

  Oh, man. Like it couldn’t get more awkward. Because she and Eli were not a couple, and when she stood near him in front of the general public she didn’t know what to do with her hands. Because they were itching to touch him but she knew she couldn’t.

  He walked over to them, looking generally awkward, as awkward as you would expect the guy to feel in the situation.

  “Hi,” she said, shoving her hands into her back pockets so they wouldn’t get all feelsy with him.

  “Sadie,” he said. “Lydia. How are things going?”

  “Great,” Sadie said. “And on your end?”

  “Parking area is set. Connor is sober. I consider that a win.”

  Sadie winced. “Is Connor going to come?”

  Eli shrugged. “I don’t know. I kind of doubt it. Families and things...he doesn’t handle this stuff well.”

  “Man,” Sadie said. “I didn’t think of it from that angle. I feel like crap now.”

  “Don’t,” he said. “Connor objectively realizes the value in this. Okay, he didn’t say that, but I know he does. He’ll hide away. It’s his deal. Though Liss might be able to draw him out for a while when Jack and Kate ride.”

  “I can’t wait to see them,” Lydia said. “Really exciting. It’ll be very fun. We’ve had a lot of calls about this down at the Chamber.”

  “That’s great,” Sadie said. “And goes a long way in eliminating my deep fear that I will end up here alone, eating all of the food myself. Which is, in many ways, not a bad fantasy, but...you know. People are investing a lot of time and money in this, and there has to be a good turnout or it just won’t be worth it.”

  Eli surprised her by putting his hand on her shoulder. “There will be a big turnout. Because you’ve done an amazing job. And I know I was kind of grumpy about it for a while, but this is great. You did great. And people have already started pouring in.” He slid his palm down her arm, the gesture going from casual encouragement to something that revealed a deeper level of intimacy between them.

  And Lydia noticed. Her smile faltered for a moment, and Sadie inwardly cringed.

  “Thank you,” Sadie said. “Thank you both for all your help and thanks...Eli, for saying that. I really...tried.” And in spite of herself, she had bonded with this place.

  She looked around the picnic area, at the people there. Bud from the gas station sitting with his wife and smiling. Cassie from The Grind was with a very nice-looking man Sadie assumed was the same Jake she talked about with a dreamy smile on her face.

  The group of fishermen from Rona’s were there with their families, and their beer. Her old high school friend Brooke with a group of women dressed in cutoff shorts and American-flag T-shirts.

  It wasn’t just this place. It was these people.

  This man.

  And if she was going to do this, be here, she wanted to do it right. She wanted to do it all well.

  She sort of hated the pressure that came with it all. The crushing need. So different than a life that wasn’t tied to anything. No anchors holding you back. Nothing to entice you to try. She missed it, in a way. But then, going back to it seemed impossible.

  Because...big, cowboy-in-a-uniform-shaped anchor. No matter what looked better or easier, it would never really be easy again. Cutting ties with Eli would be something she regretted. But being with him was damn hard. Because he called her on her BS and made her be serious, made her look in his eyes when she climaxed. Forced her not to joke about her pain, but to speak about it honestly.

  He added an uncomfortable level of depth to her life. Discomfiting when she’d tried for so long to stay in the shallows. Bastard.

  “You did more t
han try,” he said. “You succeeded. Now we just need to wait for the place to fill up.”

  And it did fill up. It was unbelievable. By the early afternoon they had people everywhere. Eating, laughing, talking. There was a band playing. Ace, the sexy bartender, was serving beer from the portable tap. The barbecues were going strong and adults were laughing while kids danced in the grass with bare feet.

  Eli’s three-legged race was a serious hit, and everyone was anxiously awaiting the official barbecue judging, and Jack and Kate’s demonstration.

  She noticed Eli standing on the perimeter and walked over to where he was, jabbing him lightly with her elbow. Since, you know, she probably couldn’t kiss him in public.

  “You hungry yet?” she asked.

  “Starving.”

  “Let’s get food. There’s obviously enough. And we earned it.”

  “We did,” he said. “Well, you did.”

  “Stop it,” she said, leaning into him again and shoving him with her shoulder. “This is your place. And you’ve been a big support. Stop being so nice to me. It’s freaking me out.”

  “Am I not nice to you?” he asked.

  “You are,” she said. “I think you’ve officially crossed over into being mainly nice to me. Which, considering where we came from, is kind of a huge deal.”

  “Well, I know you now. Instead of just thinking I know about you.”

  “Same,” she said. “Shall we get our barbecue on?”

  They walked through the crowd, Eli periodically smiling and waving at those who called out a greeting, and all she could do was just walk next to him in awe of all that he was to these people. He was a cornerstone, her man. The kind of guy who did good all the time. The kind of guy who’d affected many of the people here in amazing ways.

  It was daunting. Daunting that a man like him could have clearly done so much and still feel like he hadn’t done enough.

  It was extra daunting because she wasn’t sure if she’d ever made half that impact, even if you cobbled together the things she’d done across all the places she’d lived.

  “Chicken or beef?” she asked, when they approached the barbecue line.