Cowboy Trouble (The McCord Brothers 1.5)

by Delores Fossen

  Rico didn’t exactly jump on any part of that offer. “How the hell did this happen?” At that exact moment, he wiped his mouth—or perhaps his upper lip—with the back of his hand, so Natalie wasn’t sure if they were talking about the kiss or the divorce debacle.

  “People screw up,” she settled for saying. “The clerk did. I did,” she added. “With that kiss just now,” she tacked on to her added comment. Though she could include the marriage in that screwup, as well.

  Oh, she’d loved Rico all right. Of course, he would never believe that. But she had. And it had crushed her heart to sign those divorce papers. For all the good it’d done. Fate was laughing its butt off about right now because their signatures had meant nothing. She was still married to this hot, sweaty cowboy.

  A hot, sweaty cowboy who was pissed off. “Why didn’t you follow up on the paperwork?” he snapped. “Why didn’t you make sure the divorce went through?”

  Natalie opened her mouth. Closed it. And repeated that process a couple of times. “I got what I thought was a legit decree. Plus, I had some things going on in my life,” she settled for saying. Things that were still going on.

  Things she didn’t want to get into with him now. Maybe not ever.

  “Why didn’t you follow through?” she countered. “Didn’t you notice that the judge hadn’t actually signed it?”

  His eyes narrowed. “I had some things going on in my life,” he tossed right back at her.

  Touché. He was probably referring to the fact that he’d been shaken up. Hurt. Even more pissed off than he was now. In a “things going on in my life” contest, she’d win.

  But it wasn’t a victory title Natalie wanted.

  The heat from the kiss had cooled a little now. Enough for the other memories to come poking into her mind. Always the memories. She’d caused so much pain. Too much. And that was yet another reminder of just how stupid that kiss had been.

  “Well?” she prompted when he didn’t say anything.

  He glanced around as if deciding whether to agree to go with her or curse. Then his gaze landed on her mouth, and she wondered, briefly, if he was considering another kiss. Maybe his way of testing if the old flames could still be fanned.

  However, no kiss.

  He went with more profanity and another scowl. “You really wore that outfit and shoes for me?” Rico asked.

  They were back to the her-sprouting-more-noses tone, but it was a question she hadn’t expected. Maybe it was a safer topic for him than discussing why neither of them had made sure they’d actually gotten a divorce.

  “I wore it for you and my father. He prefers me to dress this way because it looks more professional, and I didn’t want to show up here today looking like...”

  His eyebrow rose. “Me?”

  Natalie studied his clinging gray shirt and then his jeans that were snug in all the right places. She often wore jeans, but they never looked that good on her. Heck, they wouldn’t look as good on an underwear model as they did Rico. He’d sewn up the hot-cowboy clothes market.

  “I didn’t want to look like someone you were glad to be rid of,” she corrected, then waved him off before he could say anything about that. “It doesn’t make sense. I just wanted to know I was still, well, attractive to someone other than...well, to anyone.”

  If his flat look got any flatter, she’d be able to use it to make pancakes on it. “Of course, you’re attractive. That was never the problem between us. Neither was that.” He glanced down at what was left of his erection. “The problem was your daddy.”

  He said that last word as if he was discussing navel lint. Which in his mind, her father was. But then, she fell into the navel-lint category, too, because she’d given in to her father’s demands. For all the good it’d done. She was still married to Rico, still trying to make sure her world didn’t implode.

  And speaking of imploding, that might happen on a more personal level. She tugged at her body-shaping underwear in the hopes that it would give her a little relief. It was like wearing a boa constrictor, and it was possible her intestines had fused together, as well.

  “Your dad wants you to dress like that?” Rico snapped.

  Apparently, they were still on the subject of the outfit that had taken her five hours to choose. She nodded. “I do PR for his real-estate company. I need to look professional and approachable.” That was according to the stylist her father had hired for her several years back.

  “Approachable?” Rico repeated. He’d taken the navel-lint tone up a notch.

  Natalie didn’t ask him if she’d succeeded because she wanted to get this conversation back on track. “Will you go with me to Bernie’s office?”

  He stared at her. A long time. And then he did something Natalie certainly hadn’t been expecting.

  Rico got naked.

  Well, almost. Actually, he stripped off his sweaty shirt, tossed it onto the chair and grabbed another one from the small closet that was behind his desk. Natalie figured she should turn away and not stare, but her eyeballs seemed glued to him.

  He pulled off his boots, reached for his zipper but then stopped. “You can watch if you want, but I’m about to drop my pants.”

  Yes, so he could change into a clean pair of jeans that she saw hanging in the closet. And yes, she should turn away.

  She did.

  But not before she got an eyeful of his toned and perfect backside.

  Oh, the ache came. It always did. That tug deep within her that made her want to go to him, drag him onto the floor and ride him hard. As good as that would be, and it would be good all right, it would come with complications. Complications that Natalie wasn’t sure she was ready to face. A kiss to test old waters was one thing, but sex could cause her to make a decision she shouldn’t be making. That was why she turned around and shut her eyes for good measure. Too bad she couldn’t shut her ears, too, because she could hear him dressing, and her imagination was filling in the blanks.

  “Thank you for doing this,” she said.

  No answer. Maybe he didn’t want her thanks. Heck, maybe he didn’t want to talk about it at all, but she wished she knew how he felt about it. Natalie already knew how he felt about her.

  She’d seen the disdain in his eyes. The lust, too. She figured he saw the same thing in her own eyes.

  “We’ll need to make this quick,” he growled, moving ahead of her. Of course, that meant sliding against her as he went to the door. But it seemed as if he took his time. And as if he were enjoying it a little too much.

  “Payback?” she mumbled.

  The corner of his mouth hitched. Then immediately lowered. Probably because he knew that kind of payback came with consequences.

  Natalie checked the time. Just past one o’clock. If all went as planned, they could pick up the papers from Bernie, sign them and drop them off at the courthouse. It could be a done deal by three o’clock. Well, except for the waiting. The law required the papers to be on file for sixty days before the divorce was finalized. Maybe during that time, the news wouldn’t make it back to her father. He already had enough on his plate without adding more from her.

  “We’ll take my truck,” Rico said as he walked out the door. “I don’t have spare boots here, and I doubt you’ll want cow shit in your car.”

  It already had shit. Her riding gear was in the trunk, but Rico didn’t give her a chance to explain that. He headed straight for a dark blue truck that was parked at the side of the barn.

  They didn’t make it far.

  She spotted Logan McCord making his way toward them. Or rather making his way toward Rico. Logan spared her a glance and then did a double take.

  “Natalie,” he said. Not exactly a warm and welcoming greeting. He knew her, of course, because they’d gone to high school together, and Natalie had occasional business
contact with his longtime girlfriend, Helene.

  Logan was part of the superior gene pool known as the McCord brothers. There were three of them. Lucky and Riley were the other two. But he was the least friendly of the bunch. Of course, probably none of them would be friendly to her, since they’d be on Rico’s side.

  “Is everything okay?” Logan asked, volleying his attention between Rico and her.

  “Rico and I are just catching up,” she jumped to say. She’d sworn Bernie to secrecy and didn’t want to have to do any more swearing today, especially since just her mere presence would cause tongues to wag. Spring Hill was the mecca of tongue-wagging.

  Logan’s expression was a prime example of a skeptical expression. For a moment she thought he might press for more, or even the truth, but thankfully, this was Logan and not one of this brothers. From everything she’d heard, Logan wasn’t the sort to want to know more unless it pertained to business.

  “I’m here to check on the livestock shipment,” Logan continued, proving that the gossips had indeed gotten it right about the business-minded CEO of McCord Cattle Brokers. He hadn’t lingered on potential rumor fodder at all.

  Rico shook his head. “Hasn’t arrived yet. I called about an hour ago, and the calves should be here soon.”

  “Good. I’ve already got a buyer for them, so we shouldn’t have to keep them more than a week.” He glanced at the truck keys that Rico had taken from his pocket. “You going somewhere?”

  “Just into town for a cup of coffee,” Natalie volunteered, earning her a fresh scowl from Rico. Maybe because he didn’t like lying to his boss.

  Rico glanced over his shoulder in the direction where the hands had been earlier, and so did Natalie, but the four were nowhere in sight. Probably back to work since the boss had arrived.

  “Natalie and I need to take care of some paperwork,” Rico explained to Logan.

  Logan really had that skeptical look down pat. “Anything I can do to help?” But that sounded like man-code for You want me to get rid of your ex?

  “No. I won’t be long, and if the calves arrive before I get back, Lucky’s inside, and he can sign for them.”

  “Lucky’s home?” That sent Logan’s attention toward the sprawling house. “I didn’t see his truck.”

  “He left it at the pub. I gave him a ride here. But he’ll be leaving before long because he said he’s got a rodeo up in Dallas.”

  Logan made a sound of disapproval. “Is he with someone?”

  Someone meaning a woman. The gossip was ripe about that, too. Lucky was apparently as devoted to women as Logan was to the business.

  “Lucky was alone when I dropped him off,” Rico answered. Of course, that didn’t mean he was alone now.

  Logan mumbled something, maybe a goodbye, and he headed in the direction of the house. Thank God he hadn’t pressed for more info, which meant she’d just dodged a bullet.

  But another bullet quickly came her way.

  She heard the sound of an engine, and a moment later a car pulled in behind hers. A car that Natalie immediately recognized.

  No.

  Not this, not now.

  “A problem?” Rico asked her when she cursed under her breath.

  “Yes,” she verified when the man stepped from the car. She hurried toward him as fast as her fused toes and boa-constrictor underwear would let her move. “What are you doing here?” Natalie demanded.

  He flashed a smile that could have dissolved multiple layers of rust, and he extended his hand to Rico. “I’m Marcus Jacobson, Natalie’s fiancé.”

  It felt as if Rico moved in slow motion. Not to return Marcus’s handshake. But to slide his gaze toward her. That glare could remove not only the rust but also the metal beneath it.

  “And you are?” Marcus asked Rico.

  The corner of Rico’s mouth hitched, letting her know he was about to dish out some crap. “I’m Rico Callahan. I’m Natalie’s husband.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  “I CAN EXPLAIN,” Natalie jumped to say.

  Rico seriously doubted that. Hell in a handbasket. She’d come here wearing that outfit, kissing him, and all the while she’d been engaged.

  “He’s not my fiancé,” she said to Rico, then snapped toward Marcus. “And what are you doing here?”

  Her sharp tone and explosive look didn’t deter the blond-haired lover boy. He smiled as if this were as right as rain and leaned in to kiss her. His smack landed on her cheek, and Natalie’s hand landed on his chest.

  “You’re her ex-husband,” Marcus corrected, and he put a lot of emphasis on the ex part.

  Obviously, Marcus was clueless. Probably an idiot, too. Rico was about to set him straight, but Natalie spoke before he could say anything.

  “Why? Are? You? Here?” she repeated to Marcus, but this time it was more of a snarl than a snap.

  Marcus shrugged. “Your assistant said you were coming to Spring Hill, and I thought it was my chance to see the town where you grew up.”

  She made a circling motion with her fingers when he paused. “And how did you know I’d be here at the McCord Ranch?”

  Another shrug, but this one didn’t look as casual as the first. That might have had something to do with the fact that Rico slid his arm around Natalie. Lover Boy’s forehead bunched up.

  “Uh, what’s going on?” Marcus asked. “I mean, it’s one thing to come and see your ex, but it’s another thing for him to say he’s your husband. And for him to be holding you like that.”

  “I am her husband,” Rico answered. Yeah, it was downright petty, but she deserved some payback for that blasted kiss.

  Marcus huffed, and his hands went on his hips. “Natalie, is there something you want to tell me?”

  “No.” But then she was the one who huffed. She also glanced around as if to make sure no one could hear this. “The paperwork got screwed up, and Rico and I have to refile for the divorce. That’s where we’re headed now.”

  Marcus’s mouth didn’t drop open, but it was close. He certainly looked as if someone had knocked him upside the head with a shovel. Rico knew the feeling because he’d been hit, too.

  “So, is this guy your fiancé or not?” Rico asked her. “Because that seems a little like semi-bigamy to be married to me while engaged to him.” He didn’t bother taking the stank off the him and the look he gave Lover Boy.

  “No, he’s not.” Natalie repeated it when she turned to Rico. “He’s my ex-fiancé.”

  That didn’t sweeten things for Rico much at all. Of course, nothing was going to seem sweet at the moment. Except for another kiss.

  And he wanted to neuter himself for even letting that thought pop into his head.

  “But it’s only a matter of time before we make things right again,” Marcus went on. He somehow managed to scrounge up a smile even though this sure as hell wasn’t a smiling situation. “It’s what Natalie’s father wants.”

  That put an end to any further thoughts about kissing.

  “Your daddy wants you to marry this guy?” Rico asked, but he didn’t bother listening for an answer.

  Of course Dermott Landon wanted his princess to marry someone like this. Someone who wore a suit that cost more than a prize-winning Angus bull at the state fair. Someone who didn’t smell as if he’d just shoveled up what the bull had left in the holding pen.

  “I think it’s a good idea if we go ahead and meet with the lawyer,” Natalie said, though he wasn’t sure how she could speak with her jaw that tight. “Marcus, don’t say a word about this to anyone. We’ll talk when I get back to Austin.”

  Rico was betting that chat would happen as soon as humanly possible because she practically ran to his truck. Well, she ran until those heels spiked into the soft ground, and she got stuck. She flailed around like the rubber
inflatable air dancer outside the used-car dealership.

  Marcus moved as if planning to help her, but that would only cost them more time. Of course, Natalie and he had ended their marriage twelve years ago, but it suddenly seemed urgent to Rico to end it again—officially.

  “Natalie, are you sure you don’t want me to go with you?” Marcus called out.

  “Positive. I’m so sorry,” she added to Rico when he was closer to her.

  Again, in the time-saving vein, he scooped her up and carried her to his truck. Probably not the best idea he’d ever had, since it squished her left breast against his chest and her butt against his arms. But sadly, it wasn’t the worst idea he’d had, either.

  And the worst ideas just kept coming.

  When he deposited Natalie on the truck seat, he saw several things he didn’t want to see. First, her bra when the side of her top slipped down. Not the barely there things she used to wear, but even a granny-bra glimpse from Natalie fired his blood. However, the firing didn’t last because the other glimpse was of her eyes before she put on those sunglasses.

  She was crying.

  Crap.

  He hated seeing a woman cry. Any woman. It kicked at his old baggage and reminded him of seeing his mother cry after his dad had walked out on them. Rico never considered himself the warm-and-fuzzy type, but a woman’s tears—especially this woman—could bring him to his knees.

  “I keep screwing up,” she said. There was a sob in the middle of that, and it was obvious she was trying to put a quick end to the boohooing.

  She was failing, though.

  Rico grabbed a tissue from the glove compartment, buckled her in and drove off. No need for Lover Boy or anyone else to witness Natalie’s meltdown. It was going to be hard enough to put a lid on the gossip as it was. When he got back, he’d need to threaten the hands with a good butt whipping if they breathed a word of what they’d seen or heard.

  “I swear he’s my ex,” she went on after another sob. Her phone buzzed; she glanced at the screen and turned it off. “And yes, my father wants me to marry Marcus, but that doesn’t mean I will.”