Opposing the Cowboy

by Margo Bond Collins

  First thing in the morning? Wasn’t this first thing in the morning?

  “Thanks,” he said.

  “No problem. The gear’s in the stable—the one up by the house, not the shelter out by the pastures.” She waved toward the appropriate building.

  He nodded. “I saw it on the first day.”

  As they headed into the house, he felt particularly pleased with himself, even though he knew he probably shouldn’t.

  It’s not my fault she can’t take care of her property.

  But he was going to do something about it, anyway.

  …

  Hours later, LeeAnn lifted a box off the top of the dwindling stack in the attic. “Are we doing dinner tonight after my class?” she asked as she swung it to the floor. “If so, I want to stop by Cowbelles to talk to Kylie for a minute.”

  “You missing the place?” Jonah’s tone was teasing.

  Keep it professional, she admonished herself, as she had been doing for days on end—but it was difficult when every glance made her want to crawl into his lap, despite all the reasons she knew she shouldn’t.

  Like the fact that he’s still trying to find a way to allow his company to start drilling.

  But even if the job they were doing appalled her, focusing on it kept her from going insane with all the not touching going on.

  “Yeah, but mostly I wanted to invite them to join us. I haven’t seen either of them much since they got back.” Her voice was distracted as she opened the box, pulled out a faded blue and white quilt, and stared at it. “I think Gran may have made this,” she said. “Or maybe her mother? I can’t believe it was shoved in a box and put away.” Moving over to the doorway, she added it to the growing pile of things she planned to keep.

  “So how early do we need to go?” He glanced at his watch. “If you want to go by the store, we should probably knock off in an hour or two.”

  Checking her own watch, LeeAnn nodded. “Definitely. I need a shower before we go into town. I don’t want to scare off my yoga students, coming into class all stinky and disgusting.”

  “I thought you yogi types covered stinky with some kind of perfumey oil.” His grin took any sting out of the words.

  LeeAnn snorted, then covered her mouth and nose, embarrassed. “Patchouli? Gran always said it reminded her of the smell of the weeds she pulled out of the garden every spring. The one time I came home wearing it, she sent me straight upstairs to take a shower.”

  “I think I might have liked your gran.” His blue eyes sparkled at her.

  “She would have liked you, too.” She considered that for a moment, then revised her comment. “At least, until she figured out that you were here to help people drill on her land. Then she would have kicked you out on your ass.”

  Now it was his turn to snort. “I might have liked her even more for trying.” He dropped a stack of books back into a box. “Since I don’t have any patchouli, either, maybe I could borrow your shower before we go?”

  The thought of him in her shower sent a bolt of pure sensation through her, bringing every nerve alive.

  “Sure.” She even managed to keep her voice from sounding too strangled.

  Oh, no.

  She fought to keep from moaning aloud—but inside, she wailed.

  What have I done?

  I can’t—Can. Not.—fall for him. He’s wrong for me in every way.

  Besides, I know exactly what I want in a relationship.

  She began listing her boyfriend qualifications—the same list she’d had for three years.

  I want someone smart. Preferably into yoga.

  He has to be a vegetarian—we have to agree on the basic value of life or we can’t possibly be together.

  He needs to be kind, and he has to love animals.

  Well, okay. So Jonah fit those last two. He didn’t fit the rest of the list.

  She had already tried the opposites-attract route, and it just didn’t work. Darrell hadn’t fit her qualifications, either, and look what had happened with him.

  “Did you growl?” Jonah asked, looking up from the piece of paper he’d plucked out of a magazine.

  “What? No. Of course not.” LeeAnn blew an errant hair out of her eyes. “What’s that? Did you find something?”

  “Not really,” he said. “Looks like a recipe of some sort.”

  “What for?” She held her hand out.

  “Buttermilk pie.” Leaning over, he passed the paper to her. “One of my favorites.”

  “Mine, too,” she said.

  “Yeah?” Going back to flipping through the magazine pages, he smiled. “I lived in Louisiana for a year when I first started working for Natural Shale—I did some training in the Gulf of Mexico. I was stunned when I discovered I couldn’t get buttermilk pie at any of the restaurants there.”

  “Oh, the horror.” Faking a gasp, LeeAnn put her hand over her heart.

  “You have no idea.” Jonah grinned up at her, his dimples out in full force. “They actually think that bread pudding is a viable dessert.”

  “Bread pudding does come with rum sauce,” LeeAnn said, setting the recipe on top of a small pile of papers she had gathered to take back to the house. It was in her grandmother’s handwriting—a tiny treasure that she hadn’t known existed.

  At least she was managing to save some important things.

  Just not my heart.

  “The rum is pretty much the only thing that makes the stuff edible.” Jonah’s words brought LeeAnn’s attention back to the discussion of desserts.

  After a moment of silence, LeeAnn and Jonah sighed, in unison. Then they looked at each other and burst into startled laughter.

  “So was it the bread pudding that sent you running back to Texas?” LeeAnn asked.

  “Oh, no. It was my father.” Jonah’s derisive snort surprised her—she hadn’t expected their conversation to turn dark. She waited silently to see if he would elaborate.

  “I was fresh out of college, and Natural Shale was my first job. They were going to be sending me all over the country to learn the business from the ground up.” He picked up a tiny piece of paper debris from the floor and rolled it between his thumb and forefinger.

  “As a landman?”

  “No. I was planning to go back to school to become a petrochemical engineer—the science aspect of the job really drew me.” His mouth twisted up as he shook his head. “But then Dad lost his job—again. My kid sister was still in high school, and I was the only one in the family who could help. He and Mom divorced when I was young, so she sure wasn’t going to step in.”

  “So you stayed in your job.” She had meant it to be a question, but it hadn’t come out that way.

  “Yep.” He flicked the miniscule paper ball he’d been worrying between his fingers away with his thumb. “Been supporting him ever since, on and off. I will never be a burden to my family.”

  The vehemence of his words took her by surprise.

  Even Jonah seemed startled by the intensity with which he spoke, because he blinked once, then immediately tried to lighten the mood. “Okay,” he said, stretching his arms out in front of him. “That’s it. I clearly need a break. And I’m guessing you do, too.” He placed one hand on the ground and shoved himself to his feet, his boots making thumping noises on the floor.

  “Yes, of course.” LeeAnn worked to match his tone. “If I had any buttermilk pie, I’d say we needed that, too.”

  “At this point,” Jonah replied, “I’d settle for bread pudding.” He motioned for her to head down the stairs in front of him.

  And he’s a gentleman, too. I am in such deep trouble.

  “Well, I don’t have either one,” she said.

  “Then I think it’s time for that shower we discussed earlier.” Jonah’s voice floated down the stairs after her, and when she turned to look back, he was watching her with a devilish grin. “Or those showers, I should say.”

  The thought of showering with Jonah in the old claw-foot tub in her gues
t bathroom sent chills running up and down her spine.

  Damn the man for knowing how to get to her.

  “R-right,” she managed to stammer out.

  “Great—I’ve got clothes in the truck.” At the landing, she stepped aside, and he jogged down the rest of the stairs.

  Clothes in the truck?

  Had he planned this?

  No. Of course he hadn’t. He worked for an oil company. He probably kept a change of clothes in his truck in case he needed them.

  In case he got covered in oil, for example.

  Or evil.

  Right, LeeAnn. He keeps a change of clothes in his truck in case he gets soaked in evil.

  She waited long enough for him to return so she could point him toward the shower. “Back in fifteen,” she said.

  His smirk suggested he didn’t believe her.

  Yeah, well. He’ll see soon enough.

  Now if only she could quit thinking about his broad shoulders and bare chest, slick with soap, water running down his flat stomach…

  Quit it.

  Shaking her head, she shut herself into her bathroom.

  Thank God we’re inviting Kylie and Cole to go with us.

  …

  The interior of the small shop was cool. Jonah wandered through the sparkling displays of Texas-themed merchandise—much of it covered in sequins and rhinestones—as LeeAnn headed toward the back of the store, calling out as she went. “Kylie?”

  “Oh, hey, Lee.” Kylie came out of the back, smoothing down her dress. Her light brown hair was mussed, and her lips were slightly swollen. Glancing back at the stockroom, the store owner said, “I wasn’t expecting you.”

  With a grin, LeeAnn replied, “Apparently.” She raised her voice. “Cole? You there?”

  The country singer stepped through the door, tucking his white dress shirt into his jeans. He drew LeeAnn into a hug. “Good to see you,” he said.

  “Glad you’re home,” LeeAnn said. “I’m headed to class in a minute, but I thought I’d see if y’all wanted to join us for dinner tonight.” She turned to include Jonah in the conversation. “Cole, this is Jonah Hamilton. He’s”—she paused, almost imperceptibly—“helping me sort through some of Gran’s old paperwork.”

  “That must be a monster of a job.” Kylie had clearly seen the outbuildings at some point.

  Dinner with his favorite country music star hadn’t been in Jonah’s plans, but maybe getting to know her friends could also help him figure LeeAnn out.

  And honestly, anything sounds better than another class in competitive yoga.

  “We’re planning to hit the new diner after LeeAnn’s class. Want to meet us there?” he said, seconding the invitation.

  The couple glanced at one another, clearly communicating without words. Watching their easy rapport sent a twinge through him. Was that something he would ever experience?

  Not if it means someone else might have to be responsible for me someday.

  “Thanks, man,” said Cole. “We’d love to.” He paused, turning to his girlfriend. “Unless you had something else planned?”

  A blush tinted Kylie’s cheeks, causing the light dusting of freckles across her nose to stand out. She was pretty, in a slightly too curvy kind of way. Nothing like LeeAnn, though, with her long legs and strong, toned body.

  “I’ve been wanting to try out the new place. We’ll be there,” Kylie said, and she and Cole walked them to the door.

  “I’ll walk to the studio from here,” LeeAnn said as they stepped out onto the sidewalk. “I’ll be done a little after seven.”

  He had been half tempted to figure out a way to watch while she taught her class tonight.

  That wasn’t creepy, was it?

  “Sure,” he said aloud, watching her long, steady stride as she moved away from him.

  Only an hour and a half until he saw her again. Why did it suddenly seem like much longer?

  Chapter Eighteen

  Jonah leaned back against the leather booth, watching LeeAnn as she laughed at Cole’s story about his determination to win Kylie back after a yearlong separation. The waitress had removed their plates—the buttermilk pie had been as good as he had hoped—and replaced them with coffee cups for everyone but LeeAnn, who had ordered a cup of hot tea.

  “And then,” Cole was saying, “I figured out that Kylie had been going all over town, ripping down my concert posters.”

  With a shriek, Kylie slapped at the country star’s shoulder. “I did not. I only took down the ones by my store. Anyway”—she turned to face Jonah—“he deserved it. Every single time I walked out my door, there his picture was, staring at me.”

  “But she had all his merchandise in the store,” LeeAnn interjected, “so it’s not like she wasn’t seeing his face on a daily basis.” She paused to aim a mock glare at her friend. “Not that she ever told anyone that she even knew him.”

  Kylie’s own face turned a bright shade of pink, and she shook her head. “It was no one else’s business.”

  Slipping his arm around his blushing girlfriend’s shoulder, Cole hugged her against him as he turned to Jonah. “So, how did you two hook up?” he asked, nodding his head to include LeeAnn in the question.

  “We’re not…” LeeAnn stammered at the same moment that Jonah said, “We’re just working together.”

  “Oh,” said Cole, surprised. “So did you hire Jonah to help you clear out your grandmother’s outbuildings?”

  “Actually,” Jonah interjected smoothly, while LeeAnn struggled to find an answer, “it was the other way around. I’m paying her to help me look for anything about the mineral rights to her land.”

  Beside him, LeeAnn tensed, as if expecting a blow. Determined not to be the one to deliver it, even with words, Jonah did his best to keep his tone light. “We have different goals. I’m hoping we find something, LeeAnn’s hoping we don’t. So far, she’s winning.”

  LeeAnn rolled her shoulders back, a move he now recognized as the first step in her yoga-as-nervous-habit routine.

  Any minute now, she’ll start breathing deeply.

  But before anyone could respond, a girl, probably fifteen or sixteen, approached the table and asked, her voice shaking a bit, if she could have Cole’s autograph.

  Jonah was glad for the distraction. The last thing he had wanted to do tonight was send LeeAnn into a fit of yoga.

  If she tries to stand on her head, I’ll hurt someone.

  The thought surprised him—but as he glanced over at the woman beside him, he felt every protective instinct he owned rearing up, demanding that he keep her safe, at all costs.

  Even if it means giving up the chance to find the drilling rights to her land?

  The answer came to him, clear and strong. Yes. Even then.

  Was there any way for both of them to win? He pushed the question aside to be examined later—when he wasn’t surrounded by LeeAnn and her friends, laughing and talking, drawing him into their world, so different from his usual life of hotel rooms, library searches, and land surveys, his lonely dinners only sometimes punctuated by the company of oil-field hands and their managers. He kept an apartment out in Midland, near the company’s headquarters, but unless his work took him that way, he rarely used it other than as a place to store his things, such as they were. It was almost as sterile as the hotel rooms he frequented.

  Nothing like LeeAnn’s old farmhouse, warm and inviting, even with its strangely packed attic and old-fashioned furniture.

  When Cole finished talking to the fan, dismissing her with a smile as she clutched her newly autographed paper to her chest and returned to her family’s table, Jonah leaned toward the other man. “How do you two deal with the whole being on the road issue?” he asked.

  Kylie and Cole exchanged a sidelong glance, and for a moment, Jonah feared that he might have given away the direction of his thoughts. But Kylie’s answer was straightforward. “Right now,” she said, “we’re doing two weeks on, four weeks off. LeeAnn covers the store fo
r me when I’m gone.”

  “But I’m finishing up this tour soon,” Cole said, “and then I’ll be back here.”

  “That’s right,” Jonah said. “You bought a recording studio here recently, didn’t you?”

  Cole nodded. “I’m hoping to draw some other artists here, too, maybe do some collaboration.”

  As the conversation shifted to Cole’s plans for a new record label of his own, LeeAnn’s tight posture relaxed, and Jonah let his thoughts drift a bit—but again and again, he found himself returning to the same question.

  What am I going to do next?

  …

  That went well, LeeAnn thought as she waved at Cole and Kylie, who headed in the opposite direction, back toward Cowbelles.

  She was glad her friend had reunited with Cole—he clearly adored Kylie, and it had been a long time since LeeAnn had seen her so happy.

  With a slight sigh, she turned and met Jonah’s gaze as he watched her intently.

  “I like your friends,” he said. The comment itself was mild enough, but his tone was especially intense, as if he meant her to understand something more.

  Quit reading into things, LeeAnn.

  “I do, too,” she said, working to ignore any possible undertones to their conversation. He fell into step beside her as she began walking down the sidewalk toward TexZen, where she had left her car, parked right next to his truck.

  They walked in companionable silence for a long moment, until LeeAnn said, “I don’t have a class tomorrow morning.”

  “No problem,” Jonah replied. “I wanted to bring the truck out anyway, to help haul away some of things you’ve decided to trash.” A tiny smile played around his lips, his dimples flashing in and out almost too quickly to notice.

  LeeAnn almost asked what he was thinking but decided it might be wiser to contain her curiosity. She was already far too invested in him.

  The less I know about Jonah Hamilton, the better.

  Somehow, the thought rang hollow.

  When they turned to enter the yoga studio’s parking lot, Jonah’s hand hovered close to the small of her back, as if to direct her.

  Or maybe to protect me?

  LeeAnn shook the thought away, hiding the motion as she dug through her purse for her key fob. The silver Prius beeped and the headlights flashed in the dark. Other than a second hybrid—a bright blue Ford Focus that belonged to Angie, the studio’s owner—her car and his truck were the only vehicles in the lot. The red-bricked streets were quiet, most of the area’s stores having shut down for the night. She could hear the faint music coming from a bar a street or two over, but nothing stirred any closer. Suddenly, she felt glad for Jonah’s protective presence.