Kiss the Cowboy

by Julie Jarnagin

  "Don't worry, Lucy. I'm fine."

  "You are?" she said softly.

  He looked toward the top floor of the building. "Things don't always work out the way we think they will, but sometimes they're for the best."

  Just like that, her hope drained away. Dylan was the only man who'd ever loved her for who she really was, and she'd given him up for a job she never really wanted.

  #

  Dylan stood in the corner of the room watching the best man read a speech he'd written on a cocktail napkin. Dylan had survived the dinner service tonight, but it hadn't been easy with Lucy across from him, her hair pulled up where he could see the nape of her long neck, the smell of her cooking drifting through the room. He'd wanted nothing more than to wind his arms around her.

  Wyatt, in a pink bow tie that matched the sea of pink flowers decorating the room, held Heather's hand as they listened to the man speaking.

  J.T. walked up and slapped Dylan on the back. "Your food tonight was phenomenal. I've come to convince you to reconsider the move."

  Staring straight ahead at the low stage, Dylan shook his head. "Lucy would make a great executive chef."

  J.T. huffed. "Well, I'm sure she would, but she doesn't want the job, either."

  Dylan whipped around to face him. "She said that?"

  "Pulled out of the race this morning. I figured you knew. She and Reed haven't gotten back together, and he seems to think it had something to do with you."

  His pulse raced. Could this mean what he hoped it meant?

  "Even if she hadn't, you'd be my first pick," J.T. said. "You've got something special. Your cooking would be the next big thing in this city, and I could make the salary worth your while. What could I offer to make you stay?"

  Dylan's gaze searched for her. "I can't talk about this now. I need to find Lucy."

  J.T.'s gaze roamed the room. "Last I saw, she was packing up her stuff and getting ready to leave."

  Across the expanse of tables and wedding guests, Lucy stood by the elevator doors, the round button glowing beside her.

  Polite applause came from the crowd as the best man left the stage, and the band's singer returned to the microphone. "Now, if everyone will head downstairs, it's almost time to see the happy couple off."

  Dylan lost sight of her behind a group of women.

  J.T. moved in front of him. "Listen, I'm telling you to name your price, and I'll—"

  "I've got to go." In a moment of desperation, Dylan rushed up the steps of the stage and watched as Lucy stepped inside the elevator.

  The man in the velvet jacket stepped forward. "Looks like we have one more speech," he said before shoving the microphone into Dylan's hands.

  Lucy stood inside the elevator with surprise on her face. Just as the doors were closing, she stuck her arm out between them, and they bounced open.

  Realizing the entire room was now staring at him, waiting for him to say something, he cleared his throat. Several people still stood, ready to go downstairs for the send off.

  He lifted the microphone closer and the speakers screeched. "Um. Okay. Before everyone heads for the door, I guess I do have some things I want to say."

  A few guests groaned as they pulled their seats out and sat. Lucy took a few cautious steps out of the elevator.

  Paige stood in the back of the room beside the photographer and that reporter for the Lone Star Monthly. Her expression begged him not to ruin her event. Heather whispered something to Wyatt, and he shrugged.

  Dylan swallowed, his throat dry. "My name is Dylan Lawson. I'm a friend of Wyatt's."

  Faces stared back at him, waiting. "I just wanted to say..." He turned to the couple. "That love stories take all different kinds of paths. With Wyatt and Heather, it began with a cowboy who showed up in the unlikeliest of places—an art museum."

  A few laughs came from the tables.

  His gaze met Lucy's. "In my case, it started nearly fifteen years ago with a pretty brunette girl who was better on the back of a horse than I was."

  Lucy's eyes widened.

  He blew out a nervous breath, but didn't take his eyes from Lucy. "I know more about fixing fences and tending cattle than I know about love. I've had my fair share of heartaches, and I've made more than my fair share of mistakes."

  The room was silent, but no one mattered except for Lucy. "We all have valleys in our pasts, but every trail we've traveled has made us who we are. Those paths have prepared us to love that one person who's meant for us, no matter what lies ahead."

  He tore his attention from Lucy to look back to the bride and groom. "So Wyatt and Heather, as you prepare to ride off into the sunset, my wish for you would be that you will learn from the past, be quick to forgive in the present, and embrace the future together."

  He returned his gaze to Lucy. If only his future with the woman he loved was so clear.

  #

  Before Lucy knew it, the wedding guests had headed for the elevators, and she'd lost sight of Dylan. She fought the crowd to find him. Last she'd seen him, he'd been on stage, but he wasn't there now. She checked the kitchen. Not there either.

  When the floor was empty of everyone but waiters and cleaning staff, she rushed to the ground floor and outside onto the dark Dallas sidewalk, her heart pounding as she searched the faces for him.

  Paige was directing everyone to stand on either side of the door, preparing for the big send off. A perfect end to the perfect event. A limo waited on the street to whisk Heather and Wyatt away.

  When Lucy had told her parents that she had to live life on her own terms and that she was going to use the money she'd made from the wedding to open a bakery, they tried to tell her all the reasons it wouldn't work. But she stood her ground, and by the time she'd left their house the night before, she thought maybe their respect for her had grown.

  Last night, she'd put her insomnia to good use and had a long talk with God. She'd started the process of forgiving herself for the past. Now, it was her chance to start living the life He meant for her.

  After the wedding, she'd packed up her knives and prepared to do her best to move on with her life. Maybe she'd blown it with Dylan, but that didn't mean she had to blow everything. And then Dylan had given his speech and stirred hope in her that he still loved her.

  Everyone on the sidewalk held sparklers, which Paige and a few others were lighting. One by one the little sticks were buzzing with bursts of light.

  Paige arranged people, forming a path for the couple to run between their family and friends. As the crowd parted, Lucy saw Dylan searching for her. When his gaze landed on her, he stopped and tipped his hat.

  She smiled, joy bubbling up. He sure knew how to work the cowboy thing.

  He made his way through the crowd, but before either of them could speak, Paige stepped between them. "I'm glad you're both here. I have extras sparklers. Hold these." She handed them each two sparklers and lit them with a silver lighter. She pushed them toward one side of the walkway. Paige grinned at Dylan. "Nice speech by the way."

  Lucy stared into the burst of white sparks as she stood beside him, her heart exploding. The air had a sharp metallic scent as the doors opened and Heather and Wyatt ran by, smiling and waving.

  Cheers and whistles filled the air, and the sparklers flickered, giving off a soft glow. "Was it true?" she asked Dylan. "The things you said up there?"

  "Every word, and it was all for you."

  A smoky haze surrounded them. "What about Wyoming?"

  He shook his head. "I love you. I've always loved you. You know that. If there's even the smallest possibility you would give me a chance, I'll stay here in Texas...forever. I would never risk losing you again."

  She stared up at the handsome cowboy who had loved her even when she hadn't known how to love herself. "I love you too," she whispered. "And I'm so sorry that—"

  This time, it was Dylan who quieted her by leaning down and pressing his lips to hers.

  Epilogue

  At the r
estaurant, Lucy sliced extra large pieces of chocolate cake as she watched friends and family enjoying the food and the party. Kneeling between her mom and Kenneth, Dylan looked unfairly handsome in Wranglers and a gray sports jacket. His laugh, as hearty as the food he'd served tonight, floated through the room. The year had been a roller coaster since the restaurant had opened. Dylan's father sat across from them. Even Nana, who often came in for lunch, had shown up.

  She loved everything about Dylan's place, the big family style tables, the reclaimed barn wood on the walls, and a dining room with a view into the kitchen so diners could watch the good-looking chef cook their meal on that huge grill. The restaurant, warm and authentic, was just like Dylan. Reviewers had raved about the great food, and people had flocked to it for its comfortable, homey atmosphere.

  Her dad would have loved this place. Her life had come full circle. Dylan helped her see she could embrace her past and her future with open arms.

  Dylan lifted his glass in the air, and everyone quieted. "Let's toast." He looked back at Lucy.

  She smiled—how could she help it when he looked at her like that?—and walked to the farm table where everyone sat.

  Dylan wrapped his free arm all the way around her shoulders, pulling her in front of him. Putting her hands on his forearm, she felt like herself here in this restaurant—and in Dylan's embrace.

  He cleared his throat. "I know y'all want me to shut up so you can have a slice of Lucy's famous chocolate cake."

  Everyone laughed.

  Lucy made all the desserts for the restaurant. Heather and Wyatt's wedding had led to a few more high profile weddings that had paid enough to open a bakery down the street. It was tiny and crowded and perfect. She'd never been happier in her life. The shop was becoming known for the display case full of beautiful pastries.

  "I wanted to thank all of you for being here tonight to celebrate the one-year anniversary of the opening of Graze." His chest vibrated against her shoulders with every word, but he didn't loosen his grip on her as he thanked everyone there, one by one.

  "I want to thank my dad," Dylan said.

  Lucy squeezed his forearm. She was so proud of the way he'd been helping his father when he needed him. "We've always been there for each other. I'm so proud of how hard you fought to keep the ranch and what a great business you've rebuilt out there."

  She and Dylan were both living their dreams in their kitchens, but she would give it up in an instant to follow him anywhere.

  "And finally a toast to Lucy."

  She was disappointed when he let go of her shoulders. She turned around, reaching for him, but he wasn't there.

  The air seemed to rush right out of the room. With that dirty old hat she'd grown to love in his hand, Dylan was down on one knee. "Lucy Pickett. I've been in love with you since we were fourteen years old."

  She clasped a hand over her mouth to keep from crying.

  "Now that you're back in my life, I never want to be apart from you." Dylan dipped his fingers into the inside of his jacket pocket and pulled out a velvet box. "Will you be my wife?"

  Unable to speak, she nodded. She wanted nothing more than to spend forever with Dylan.

  His mouth formed a wide smile.

  He slid the ring onto her finger and grabbed her around the waist as he stood, lifting her feet from the ground.

  When he lowered her to the floor, she buried her face in his chest, taking in the smell of his cologne and the mesquite from the grill, relishing the comfort of his arms around her.

  "Well, kiss her already," Nana ordered from across the room.

  Lucy stared up at Dylan. "You heard the woman."

  Dylan lifted Lucy's face to his. "Yes, ma'am."

  Also in the TASTE OF TEXAS series

  Heather Tornsten needs a man...a celebrity, more specifically, for a fundraising gala for the Dallas art museum, where she works. And what better headliner than bull rider Wyatt Lawrence? Although why people idolize grown men who make their living falling off animals, she'll never understand.

  When his mom was diagnosed with cancer, Wyatt determined to focus on doing what she wants—like visiting some art museum. But when his mom teams up with Heather Tornsten to get him involved in a fundraiser, he knows he's been set up. The more involved he gets with the pretty events coordinator, the more he realizes falling off a bull is far safer. Because falling for Heather–who has made it clear that she won't risk her heart on any man who courts danger–might break a whole lot more than his bones.

  CLICK TO BUY AT YOUR FAVORITE ONLINE RETAILER

  Bonus chapters - Secondhand Cowboy

  Iris Tatum hasn't seen her high school sweetheart Callum Stewart since he left years ago without a single word. Then she witnesses an horrific hit-and-run accident, and comes face to face with her past–and Cal's triplets. A volunteer paramedic, Iris can't walk away. No matter how much she wants to.

  Bull rider Callum Stewart was run out of town at age twenty and vowed never to return. Only one thing could bring him back: building a future for his sons. Now, thanks to the accident that left him with a broken leg—he needs help to care for his boys. He has no choice but to accept Iris's grudging help.

  As they rediscover a friendship–and the sparks that never faded between them–Callum's secrets are brought back with a vengeance. How can they keep the past from destroying their future?

  CLICK TO BUY AT YOUR FAVORITE ONLINE RETAILER

  Read the first chapters...

  Prologue

  He didn't belong here.

  Twenty-year-old Callum Stewart stood at the back of the darkened Oklahoma City auditorium, smelling of sweat and horse.

  On stage, ballerinas swirled in a complicated pattern. Attendees were dressed in gowns and suits, making his jeans and boots stand out, though he stood behind most of them.

  He might not belong here, but he was exultant over the purse he'd won. The prize belt buckle was stashed in the glove box of his truck, the check for his winnings burning a hole in his jeans' pocket.

  Things were finally happening for him. When he added the cash prize to the savings he'd scraped together, it was enough for a start for them. For himself and Iris. Things would be tight. They'd have to get a crappy little apartment—he'd vowed never to live in a trailer like the one he'd crawled out of—but if he kept beating the eight second clock, it was doable. He'd work whatever kind of jobs he had to between traveling to rodeos on the weekends.

  This was happening. He was going to marry Iris in one week, when she turned eighteen.

  Even riding high on his win and sick with anticipation about the next week, he was conscious of the richie-rich couple on the aisle seats closest to him, the condescending glances they kept sending him. Almost like they were thinking about fetching an usher to drag him out.

  But Iris had given him a ticket that morning before she'd kissed him for luck. He'd carried the memory of her kiss through the harrowing ride on the back of the bull he'd bested, and he carried it with him now.

  They were young, but he'd spent his whole life wanting. In those early days, wanting a roof over his head, a real family, someone who loved him. For the last two years, that want had narrowed to a person: Iris.

  He knew what he wanted, and he was going to have it.

  The problem with his ticket was that it was for a seat all the way down front, in the middle of the packed auditorium. He would have to climb over twenty folks to get to it.

  And his seat was next to Wade Tatum, Iris's dad. Who hated him. Better to watch from back here than let Wade ruin his high.

  There was a hush over the crowd, and the stage lights focused on a single ballerina at center stage. Prickles of awareness raised the hair on the nape of his neck as he recognized Iris in a frilly white tutu. The pointe shoes made her slender legs look even longer.

  He couldn't look away. As she began to dance, there was a noticeable difference between her skill and that of the other dancers that had been on stage before. This was the bigg
est, most professional dance company in the state, and she was better than everybody up there. He might be biased because he loved her so much, but he didn't think so.

  She did a long series of spins on the very tips of her toes without breaking momentum, and the crowd burst into applause, some of them standing up.

  She was amazing. He'd seen her dance before, in smaller productions and at practice several times before he'd given her a ride home, but tonight she was exceptional.

  #

  A week later, Callum still couldn't get Iris's performance out of his head. Today was Iris's eighteenth, and she'd had a dinner with her dad, her uncle, and her sister. He'd gently declined when she'd invited him. If they were leaving town together, this might be the last time she had a pleasant supper with her family. He didn't want to ruin it for her with the tension that simmered between Wade and him—no matter what he did, how much he tried to prove he was worthy of Iris.

  After her dance performance last weekend, he'd retreated to the safety of his truck and watched through the glass-walled event center as her father greeted her with an armful of blood-red roses. Cal had glanced down at the single rose lying across his passenger seat and felt again the starkness of exactly what he was asking her. The difference between what Wade could give her and what Callum could give her was like the difference between riding a bull and riding a lamb, and he hadn't done that since he was five.

  He couldn't put words to the emotion that had prompted him to leave instead of going in and congratulating her. Or the ugly things he'd felt when he'd kept it a secret that he'd attended her performance. He'd only promised to try, and she'd assumed his rodeo had kept him from attending. He'd never corrected her.

  He'd been unable to summon the same excitement for their plans all week, though he'd faked it when they'd spoken on the phone. The one night she'd been able to sneak away and see him, he'd forced himself to act like the same old Callum, so she wouldn't know.