“You were going to brunch with Jeff?”
“No, just my folks. He’s a surprise, but this is my fault, not yours.”
“No, it’s mine. I distracted you.” He spied his hat on a shelf under an end table and his boots were next to it. Somehow they’d missed seeing those things. Retrieving them, he walked over to Libby’s mom. “If I could have my belt, ma’am.”
“You can have it and good riddance!” She practically threw it at him.
He didn’t bother putting it on, but he did settle his hat on his head. There. That was better. Carrying his belt and his boots, he walked to the door and touched the brim of his hat with two fingers. “Enjoy your brunch.”
He paused outside the door to tug on his boots. As he returned to his truck, he vowed to think positive. He hadn’t lost his shirt. He’d spent an entire day and night with Libby. All things considered, that was as much of a jackpot as he could expect.
Chapter Five
Libby finally got them out of her apartment. Adrenaline poured through her system and she paced the living room until her emotions became manageable. She had so many things to say to her parents, but spouting them off in front of Greg would have made everything worse.
She needed to talk to him, though. She’d seen his expression when he’d left. Unless she contacted him, he wouldn’t expect to see her again except every Friday afternoon at the bank. But she had no phone number and no address. She could find that information at the bank, but not on Sunday. Even if she looked it up tomorrow, using it for personal reasons could get her fired.
One other resource remained—Kendra McGavin. She’d loaned Libby her boots and donated a ball cap to the cause, but would she freely give out Greg’s phone number and address? That wasn’t a good way to run a business and Libby didn’t want to put her on the spot. Instead she’d ask Kendra to contact Greg for her. But not yet.
She had something important to do first. After a long hot shower, she put on the least stylish outfit she could find in her closet, an old but comfortable pair of pants and an oversized sweater. Gym shoes would have been a nice touch, but since she’d never worked out she didn’t own any. She slipped into the loafers she’d worn to Wild Creek Ranch.
A search through her drawers turned up a ribbon she could use to put her hair in a ponytail. She didn’t own any scrunchies, either, but that would change. She smoothed moisturizer over her face and glanced at the time. Brunch should be over by now. Her dad would be watching sports and her mom would be polishing the silverware as she did every Sunday afternoon.
When Libby walked in the front door, a game was on in the living room as she’d expected. Her father glanced up in surprise. “Hi, kitten. Didn’t expect you to show up today.”
“I have something to say to you and Mom. I want you to turn off the TV.”
“But—”
“Please, Dad. Turn it off.”
“All right.” He clicked the remote and put down the footrest on his recliner as the screen went blank. “Honey, Libby’s here!”
“She is?” Her mother came out of the kitchen holding a fork and a polishing rag. “What on earth are you wearing? And you know I hate ponytails.”
“Mom, please come in and sit down.”
“Why?”
“Because this is important.”
“If it’s about that Greg person, then—”
“Mom, please sit down.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” She stomped over to the other recliner.
Libby took a seat on the sofa opposite them. She’d been nervous on the way over, but now she was calm. “For too many years I’ve followed your rules without considering what I wanted.”
“Oh, kitten, that’s—”
“Please don’t interrupt, Dad.” She glanced at her mother, who had her mouth open. “Let me say what I have to say.”
Her mother rolled her eyes but she closed her mouth.
“I’m not blaming you, because as an adult I’ve always had the freedom to challenge those rules. I just haven’t embraced it. As of now, I will.” She took a deep breath. “I went horseback riding yesterday with Greg.”
Her mother’s eyes widened in alarm. “No.”
“Yes, and I loved it. I loved being with Greg, too. If he can overlook that nasty scene in my apartment, I hope to spend a lot of time with him. He’s twice the man Jeff is.”
Her dad frowned. “I doubt that.”
“I don’t care what you think of him, either of you, but if your paths should cross in the future and you ever treat him the way you did today, that will be the last you’ll see of me.”
Her mother gasped. “You don’t mean that.”
“I mean every word. Starting now I will be my own person. I love you both, but I’m going to live by my own rules. Mom, I want my key back. You can drop it by the bank next time you’re out.”
Her face grew red with anger. “This is outrageous.”
“No, it’s protecting my privacy. Which reminds me. Don’t come by my apartment tonight. I hope to be occupied making amends to Greg.”
They stared at her in stunned silence.
She stood. “Have a good night.” She left quickly before they recovered from the shock. She’d get pushback and she’d deal with it, but not until after she’d tracked down a certain sexy cowboy. Once she’d returned to her apartment, she called Kendra.
Kendra agreed to contact Greg but made no promises that he’d respond. Libby thanked her and the waiting began. She straightened the apartment but not too much. She’d come to cherish the lived-in look. She dumped out her mother’s flowers. She put the box of condoms on the coffee table where the vase had been. Mostly she cuddled with Hermione and told the cat that everything would be okay.
A rap on the door jacked up her heart rate. She ran to open it and there he stood. But his hat was pulled low over his eyes and he wasn’t smiling. An attack of nerves made her gulp. “Will you come in?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She shut the door and leaned against it. “Thank you for coming over.”
“Kendra said you wanted to see me. How was brunch?”
“I didn’t go.”
“Why not?” He crouched down to stroke Hermione, who was rubbing against his leg and purring.
Her chest tightened. “Did you think I would after the awful way they treated you?”
“They’re your parents. I’m the outsider. Just like Hermione, they were here first.” He scratched behind the cat’s ears. “Unfortunately, they didn’t take to me the way she did.”
“That’s their loss.”
He glanced up. “Excuse me?”
“Look, I’ll understand if you’d rather not have anything more to do with me after what happened today. I won’t sugarcoat it. My parents don’t approve of you. But I do.”
He stood slowly and gazed at her. “I’d never want to come between you and your folks.”
“And I never want my folks to come between you and me.” She took a step closer. “I’ve had a crush on you since tenth grade. I almost fainted when you invited me to go for a ride in your truck the night of the party. I couldn’t believe my good luck.”
“But you made me promise not to tell.”
“I know, because I was such a chicken back then I couldn’t have stood up to my parents. But today, when you tried to be polite and they rejected you, something snapped. I think it was my puppet strings.”
His green eyes were somber. “Libby, your folks are—”
“Wrong. That’s what they are. Wrong about what I need and wrong about you. Please don’t give up on me because of them. Please. Yesterday was the best day ever. I want more days like that. More nights. With you.”
“Do they know how you feel?”
“They do, now. I told them this afternoon. I said I was hoping you’d overlook what happened today and give me another chance, because I…oh, what the hell. I’m in love with you. You don’t have to love me back, but if you’d just—”
“What if I want to?” Taking off his hat, he sent it sailing toward the coffee table. Then he gathered her into his arms. “What if I’ve been in love with you ever since that night in the back of my truck?”
Dizzy with joy, she wound her arms around his neck and gazed into his eyes. “Then I’m one lucky woman.”
His smile had been long in coming, but now it appeared, making his eyes shine with happiness. “Looks like I hit the jackpot, after all.”
She wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but when his mouth covered hers, she understood perfectly. His kiss was a promise of deep and abiding love, and this cowboy knew how to keep a promise.
About the Author
New York Times bestselling author Vicki Lewis Thompson’s love affair with cowboys started with the Lone Ranger, continued through Maverick, and took a turn south of the border with Zorro. She views cowboys as the Western version of knights in shining armor, rugged men who value honor, honesty and hard work. Fortunately for her, she lives in the Arizona desert, where broad-shouldered, lean-hipped cowboys abound. Blessed with such an abundance of inspiration, she only hopes that she can do them justice.
Connect with Vicki online!
@VickiLThompson
vickilewisthompson
VickiLewisThompson.com
[email protected]
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