by Tessa Layne
Cowboy Wanted: True Love Awaits
SWF 26 seeks good looking MAN for moonlit rides, stimulating conversation, and possible kissing.
Must love a high maintenance woman that is stubborn and mouthy.
Hard muscles only.
No Baby Daddies, Beer Bellies or Flabby Asses.
Interest in Kinky Sex a Must
Serious inquiries only: [email protected]
He covered a smile. She’d blow a gasket when she found out. No doubt about it. And her brothers would deserve every ounce of her wrath. What had they been thinking? The ad would draw out every horny pervert in the county. And that pissed him off. His skin flamed at the thought of anyone else touching Hope.
The door jangled and a blast of cold air blew into the diner along with Hope. Had he conjured her out of thin air? Her eyes were downcast, face pinched, hands jammed into her pockets. Without looking up, she made a beeline for the booth in the back corner. What was going on with her? He glanced up the counter. Elaine was already reaching for the coffee carafe. He stood with his coffee and intercepted her at the workstation.
“Let me. And can you double my order? I’ll be over there.” He gestured to where Hope was sitting.
Elaine raised an eyebrow. “Sure thing. She looks like she could use a little sunshine.”
Ben swiveled, and wove through the tables to where Hope sat hunched in the corner. The diner was rapidly filling up with lunch guests. He arrived at her table, turned over the cup and filled it. “So, we meet again.”
Her head popped up, eyes flashing surprise, then warmth, and then… nothing. Something was definitely going on. He slid into the booth across from her. “Everything okay?”
She shrugged, fingering the lip of her cup.
Wow.
He’d never seen Hope this… lost. Before he could stop to think about it, he reached for her hand and squeezed. “There was a time when I was the first person you confided in.”
She met his gaze, eyes guarded. “That was before I made a fool of myself.”
“If anyone was the fool, it was me.” He gave her hand a little tug, caressing the pad between her thumb and forefinger. “About last week. I–”
She shook her head. “I enjoyed it,” she mumbled, her face turning the prettiest shade of pink.
His stomach flipped upside down at the admission. “Yeah?”
She stared at him intently, as if she was coming to some kind of decision. “And I love the new tree house.”
“Yeah?” He certainly wasn’t going to win any awards for conversation. But he’d learned as a kid that the best way to help Hope when she was struggling with something was to be a solid presence. Give her space to flesh things out in her mind.
A throat cleared at the end of the table. “Hey, Hope.”
What in the hell was Johnny Benoit doing giving Hope puppy-eyes? Couldn’t he see they were talking? “Johnny,” he said tersely, a wave of fierce jealousy sweeping through him.
Johnny nodded at him and turned his attention back to Hope. “So I was wondering if you’d like to grab a burger sometime.”
Hope’s eyes grew wide, and she flashed Ben a panicked look. “Umm. Yeah, sure. I guess so. I just moved back to Prairie. It’d be nice to catch up with a few people. Your brother doing okay?”
“Jimmy? Yeah… yeah, he is.”
Ben cleared his throat. “Nice to see you Johnny. Hope and I were just having a bite of lunch.” He should invite Johnny to sit. It would be the polite thing to do. But no way. Not when Hope had just confessed she liked kissing him. He wasn’t the third wheel on this bicycle.
Johnny remained at the table a moment longer. Hope gave him a little smile. “Nice to see you Johnny. Say hi to your family.”
“Oh. Yeah. Sure. I’ll ah, give you a call.” Johnny whipped a phone out of his back pocket. “Can you put in your phone number?”
Hope’s mouth twitched, hiding a smile. “Sure.” She grabbed the phone and started punching numbers.
What could he do? They weren’t on a date and Ben wasn’t about to make a scene in Dottie’s. A hot flare of possessiveness balled low in his belly. She may not be his, but she should be, dammit. He flashed Johnny a tight smile. “Catch you ’round Johnny.” He watched Johnny weave his way through the tables back to the counter, then arched a brow at Hope. “This how you treat all your dates?”
She pressed her lips together stifling a laugh, eyes sparkling. “Oh, this is a date now?”
“Generally, when a man and a woman–”
She rolled her eyes, unable to stop her laugh this time. “So now you’re going to lecture me on the birds and the bees?” Her laugh was as musical and enchanting as a freaking Disney princess. “You’re a few years too late, buddy.”
He grew still as awareness surged through him. “It’s never too late, Hope.” He hoped to God he was right.
Her eyes changed from sparkling laughter to pensive. “Ben… I–”
They were interrupted again. This time by Elaine, delivering two plates of chicken-fried steak with eggs and hash browns. She set down the plates and whisked away the coffee carafe.
“Not a date, Hope. Just two old friends reconnecting.” He held his breath expectantly. She loved chicken-fried steak. At least she had.
She looked from him to the plate, then back again, and flashed him a delighted grin, as she picked up a fork. “You remembered.”
Like he’d ever forget. He handed her the Tabasco. “Hope, you were my best friend. You think I’d forget?”
A grimace of pain crossed her face, and she shrugged as if she was dismissing a painful memory. “Some people might.”
“I’m not some people, Hope.” And I never stopped loving you.
She smiled sadly. “No. You’re not. And this conversation is getting too heavy for me.” She attacked her steak with vigor and took a bite, sighing rhapsodically. “God, I’ve missed Dottie’s food. Not one diner in Kentucky was this good.”
She wanted to keep things light. Disappointment hovered at the edge of his awareness, but he beat it back. Fine. He could do that – keep things light. They had plenty of territory to cover. “So tell me about Kentucky.”
“Not much to tell,” she took another bite, chewing thoughtfully. “Majored in equine sciences, minored in biology intending to study genetics, but I couldn’t stay out of the stables.”
Ben grinned at her between bites. “Of course you couldn’t. You always were happiest on a horse.”
Hope’s eyes grew unfocused and distant, and her shoulders drooped. “You haven’t asked why–” She stopped talking as Elaine returned to their table.
Elaine refilled their coffee, then dug into her pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper, offering it to Hope. “Here. From the blonde at the counter.”
A young man Ben didn’t recognize, Stetson perched on his knee, offered Hope a smile and a wave.
What the everliving fuck? He’d never felt possessive or jealous of anyone, and now, with these young men eating lunch in the diner, he wanted to stand and beat his chest. Throw Hope over his shoulder and drag her back to his cave.
Hope unfolded the note, two spots of pink growing on her cheeks. Sighing, she shook her head and jammed the paper in her coat pocket.
Ben made a face. “What’s that about?”
She shook her head, a tiny smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “Nothing.”
He knew what this was, dammit. These… boys must have seen the ad. He held out his hand. “Lemme see. You get a love note?”
She shook her head, her face at odds with her movement.
“You did. What’s his name?” He glanced back at the younger man, who was still watching Hope intently.
She rolled her eyes, letting out a little giggle. “It’s nothing. Really.”
“Hope Hansen,” Dottie bustled out of the back waving a copy of the latest Rancher’s Monthly.
Uh-oh. This would not go well.
Dottie’s voice boomed across
the diner. “Your mother know you’re taking out singles ads in the back of Rancher’s Monthly?”
Hope sucked in a breath, confusion covering her face. “What? What do you mean?”
Yep. All hell was about to break loose.
Dottie squeezed through the crowded tables, voice cutting through the noise like a hot knife in butter. “There is no need for a beautiful young thing like you to let it all hang out.” She shook her head as she stopped at their booth. “You kids these days. Tinder this and Snap that. If you need a date, just ask, honey. I know a dozen cowboys who’d fall over their boots to take you to dinner. Including this one here,” she fixed Ben with a laser beam gaze. How in the hell Dottie had figured him out, he had no idea. Nothing, nothing got past her.
“Dottie, I swear I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t need a date.”
Might as well show her. Ben slid the folded back Rancher’s Monthly across the table. “Seems you’re a bit of a celebrity around here. And not just because you moved home.”
She let out a gasp as she read the ad, face turning pale, then bright red. She raised her head, eyes sparkling in anger. “You knew about this when you sat down and you didn’t say anything?” she hissed.
“I didn’t realize so many people read the singles.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Everyone reads the singles ads, Ben. For laughs.” Her voice rose with a note of hysteria. “Who did this?” She put up her hand. “No. Wait. I know who did this. I swear to God they will not live to see the sunset.” She swung her gaze to Ben, eyes smoldering with anger. “I am sick of the men in my life trying to control me.”
Dottie’s gaze narrowed as she glanced at the ad she held. “You think your brothers did this?”
“Of course they did, Dottie,” Hope snapped. “Who else would it be? Ben?”
He scowled. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He wasn’t sure he liked the way she’d said his name. Like he was nothing more than a harmless friend. Had the kiss they’d shared meant nothing?
Dottie smiled wryly. “You’re right. Ben’s too much of a gentleman. He wouldn’t hurt a fly, let alone a lady. Your brothers, on the other hand, have a sense of humor that just won’t quit.”
“Aww c’mon, Hope. You have to admit, it’s a little funny,” Ben cajoled. Gunnar and Axe would endure the weight of her wrath. Maybe he could help her find the humor in it.
She studied the ad again, then scowled at him. “Do you think I’m stubborn?”
In spite of himself, he began to shake with laughter. “You’re a Hansen.”
She made a disbelieving noise in her throat. “Well I’m not mouthy am I?”
“You don’t want me to answer that.”
Her eyebrows shot up and she leaned across the table. “You think I’m mouthy?”
God, he hadn’t seen this side of her in too long. He wanted to reach over and tug on her braids. Pull her into a kiss, if he could get away with it. He had half a mind to try, just to stake his claim on her. How many more young men were going to interrupt them in an effort to talk to her?
He grinned at her broadly. “You come by your ginger rightly when you get your hackles up.”
Her jaw dropped, and she clenched it shut, sitting back in a huff. “You think I’m mouthy.”
“I didn’t say that. You have no trouble expressing your opinion.” He winked at her and grinned. “I like you mouthy, Hope. In fact, I like your mouth a whole lot.” He liked everything about Hope Hansen. Especially her mouth. His cock sprung to life at the thought of Hope’s mouth on him, hot and wet.
Her lips pressed into a thin line, and she shook her head. “Oh no. You don’t get to flirt with me. Not right now. Not when I have my brothers’ slow and painful demise to plan.” She slid from the booth, pulling a little billfold from her front pocket.
Ben reached out and captured her wrist. “No you don’t. Lunch is on me.”
She frowned at him mutinously. “But this isn’t a date.”
His thumb caressed the soft inside of her wrist and he detected her pulse fluttering madly. “A gentleman never lets a lady pay.”
Her eyes softened, and her lips parted as she glanced down at their hands, then back at him. “You make it hard to hate you, Ben Sinclaire.” Her words came out barely above a whisper.
Words swirled across his tongue. He clenched his jaw to keep from answering. He had so much to say and this was the wrong time for all of it. Would their timing ever work out? Or was he doomed to love her from a distance forever?
Regretfully, he released her. “Go find your brothers. You know where to find me when you need me.”
She whirled and rushed out of the diner, head held high. That was his Hope. Tough as nails, sweet as Dottie’s apple pie. Heaven help her brothers when she tracked them down. Heaven help him if he couldn’t win her back.
CHAPTER 7
Hope stormed into the barn where her brothers were mucking stalls, Rancher’s Monthly in hand. “Are you fucking kidding me?” Her brothers swung around as one, eyes registering surprise, then humor, and at last, guilt. They should feel guilty. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”
Axel flashed her a placating grin, and went back to shoveling out the stall. “Calm down, sis. You’ll upset the horses.”
She leveled what she hoped was a scathing glare at her brother’s backside. “Outside. Now.” She spun and marched down the aisle, not waiting to see if they would follow. Turning up her coat collar against the wind, she placed a booted foot on the bottom rung of the corral fencing. Phyllis trotted across the corral and snuffled, looking for treats. Hope gave her a scratch. “Not now, Phyllis. I’ll bring treats later.”
Gunnar stepped up beside her. Laughter laced through his voice. “What’s got your undies in a bunch, Hopey?”
She side-eyed him, scowling. “I’m not twelve anymore. This isn’t funny.”
He chuckled, then quickly squared his features as she shot him another boiling glare. “C’mon, Hopey,” he cuffed her shoulder. “It’s a little bit funny, don’t you think?”
“Do you know how many times I was interrupted at Dottie’s? Did you think Dottie wouldn’t announce it to the world?” Her voice rose in pitch and volume, but she didn’t care. This was absolutely the last straw where her brothers were concerned. This time their pranking had gone too far. “Do you know how many times I was asked out by perfect strangers at the Feed n’ Seed?” Hot tears pricked behind her eyelids. She would not give them the satisfaction of seeing her cry. She sucked in a shaky breath.
“Lighten up. You need some fun in your life.” Axel joined them at the fence.
She whirled on him. “Lighten up? You want me to ‘lighten up’ when you print the words Kinky Sex next to my picture? When I’m twenty-six, living in my childhood bedroom, and have zero job prospects?” She made zeroes with her hands, emphasizing her point.
Axel’s brow creased. “Aww, it’s not that bad. You can help us.”
“Do what? Be your stable girl?” She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
Gunnar draped his arms across her shoulders. “You’ve always been good with the horses, why not train them?”
“We’ve already gone over why.”
Gunnar turned her toward him, bringing his other hand to her shoulder. “Hope, you’re going to have to get back in that ring someday. It’s your calling. Everyone who sees you working with the horses knows it.”
She squeezed her eyes shut against the concern in his eyes. “This isn’t about me getting back in the ring. This is about you two always meddling.”
“Aww, we’re not meddling. Just giving you a good kick in the pants like we always do.”
She stepped out of Gunnar’s big brotherly embrace. “I don’t need a kick in the pants. I don’t want to go on a blind date, or any date for that matter.” She squeezed her temples, trying to stave off the headache that had erupted. “Listen. To. Me. I came home to regroup. That’s it.”
Axel let out a breath a
nd scuffed the dirt with his boot. “Well maybe livening things up will help.”
Hope crossed her arms, in part against the cold. “It won’t.”
Gunnar crossed his arms and stared her down. “Have you tried? You won’t know until you’ve tried.”
Reasoning with her brothers when they ganged up on her like this was impossible. “You two think you know everything. Just… stop.”
A sly smile spread across Gunnar’s face. “Then prove us wrong. Let us set you up on one date. Just one. We’ll vet them, make sure they’re decent.”
“Will you drop this settling down nonsense if I do?” She’d sit through an awkward date if it meant she’d have a moment’s peace and her brothers off her back.
“Sure,” Axel said, catching Gunnar’s eye. “Let us take care of everything. We can hold a contest like on The Bachelorette.”
Gunnar grinned mischievously and rubbed his hands together. “Don’t worry. We won’t let any douchebags within a hundred feet of you.”
Great.
Gunn’s promise inspired her with all sorts of confidence. She pushed down a nervous laugh. Laughter would only encourage them. “You know what? Fine. I give up. Take your shot. But mark my words – I’m not letting this one go. I’ll be waiting for you in the tall grass when you least expect it.”
After dinner that evening, Hope pushed away from the table and stood, surveying her family. “I think I’ll take Phyllis out for a bit.”
Her mother eyed her with concern. “Did you forget it’s Posse night at Dottie’s? We’re playing bunko. I think the younger girls would love to see you.”
Shit. She’d forgotten. “I’m sorry, Ma. I’m not up for company tonight.”
“I think you’re spending too much time alone.”
Hope shrugged, defeat settling in her bones. “Mom, I’ve always needed more solo time than the rest of you. You’re just not used to seeing me every day.”
Martha carefully folded her napkin and rose. For as long as Hope could remember, her mother would only fold her napkin precisely when she was upset or very worried. “I’m worried about you. You’ll let us know if you need anything?”