Cowboy Most Wanted (Copper Creek Book 1)

by Stina Lindenblatt

  She gathers the rest of her clothes and dresses while I do the same. Then she kisses me on the goddamn cheek. “I’m taking Deacon to the county fair on Saturday. Did you want to join us? Aubrey and Sophie are also coming.”

  I grab her around the waist and haul her against me.

  “And tomorrow afternoon,” she says, “he and I are watching the movie Frozen if you’re interested.”

  “I can be convinced.” I proceed to show her exactly how to convince me. Convince me in a way that puts the kiss she just gave me to shame.

  19

  “Where to now, Deacon?” I ask the two-year-old sitting on my shoulders. We walk past a group of kids playing Whac-A-Mole. The smell of grilling meat and barbecue sauce from the annual cook-off beckons to my stomach. “You want to see animals or do you want to sample some amazing ribs?”

  He bounces on my shoulders. I take it that’s a yes—except I have no idea which he’s agreeing to.

  Violet beams at her son, my cowboy hat in her hand. She’s looking especially hot this afternoon, in her denim shorts, black tank top, cowboy boots, and the belt I gave her.

  “Why don’t we see how Uncle Austin is doing,” she says, “then we can go see the animals?”

  We’re not the only ones who’ve heeded the cook-off’s call. There’s a mob of people hanging around the tables that are offering a variety of foods: casseroles, grilled meat, potato salads, baked goods. Each dish is vying to win the fair’s most prestigious awards.

  Well, prestigious around these parts.

  Austin is at a grill, brushing on a generous helping of his infamous barbecue sauce. It’s the secret recipe he wins with year after year.

  A group of women in their twenties is swarming around his table. All look hungry. Only it’s not his beef ribs I suspect they’re hungry for. I recognize their expressions. They’re the same ones the girls who hung around the rodeo events wore. Not the girls genuinely interested in watching the events. But the girls who were interested in hooking up with the contestants. “That’s a first.”

  “What’s a first?” Violet asks.

  “You know what a buckle bunny is, right?”

  “I do. You used to hook up with them all the time.” At what is no doubt a surprised look on my face, she says, “Austin told me.”

  Of course he did—because she wasn’t around when I started hooking up with them. Austin telling her is the only way she would have known about those women.

  “Plus I overheard some girls at the rodeos I attended talking about you and comparing notes,” she adds.

  Ouch.

  Only an idiot would ask what they said about him.

  I’m no idiot.

  “I haven’t been with those kinds of women since the accident,” I point out in my defense…and then attempt to put the train back on the track. “The way those women are eyeing up your brother, I’m starting to wonder if cook-offs have their own breed of bunny.” Or if those women are badge bunnies who have sniffed him out, even though he’s not currently wearing his uniform.

  We walk around them, only to be brought up short by the sight of Miss H, my old high school teacher. Grandma Meg, Gertrude, and Tilly are also with her.

  Or rather, Gertrude is talking to her and showing her a piece of paper. Grandma Meg hands a couple of girls each a sheet of paper with what looks like a photo of someone on it.

  “The reality show Cowboy Most Wanted is coming soon to a TV near you,” Tilly shouts, gaining the attention of people passing by. She hands them a piece of paper, similar to the ones her friends are handing out. “Vote for Copper Creek’s very own hot cowboy, TJ Daniels.”

  She practically shoves a piece of paper at the chest of an elderly man. His cowboy hat prevents me from seeing who it is.

  He must have said something she didn’t agree with because she then says, loudly, “Don’t you be giving me any trouble, Gary Umbridge. Or else I’ll make sure there’s no more of Cora Lee’s cupcakes for you. Now, you make sure you vote for TJ.”

  Whatever he grumbled must have made Tilly happy. She grins and turns to the next person.

  “What’s going on?” I ask, even though I have a pretty good idea. I take the flyer from her hand and read it.

  Violet giggles next to me.

  On it is a picture of me shirtless. I recognize it from the show’s website. “You’re seriously going around telling people to vote for me?”

  “Damn right,” Tilly says. “It’s called marketing.”

  I shoot Violet a dark look. “Did you know about this?”

  She giggles harder, presses her hand against her mouth in an attempt to muffle the sound, and shakes her head.

  She removes her hand. “Granny asked me a few questions the other day about marketing, but I had no idea she meant this. I thought she was talking about her knitting club.”

  “Well, don’t the three of you make a handsome family?” Miss H says, eyeing Deacon, Violet, and me. Because her hearing isn’t what it used to be, she says it loud enough for Austin to overhear.

  He stops brushing the sauce on the ribs, and his expression hardens as he watches us.

  Christ, you don’t have issues with your grandmother pimping me when it comes to that show, but you have issues with Miss H’s comment?

  “We’re not together. I mean we’re friends, and we’re here together,” I say, stumbling over the words.

  “Are you forgetting that TJ is betrothed to the woman on Cowboy Most Wanted?” Gertrude says.

  “Betrothed?” I look at Violet to see if she knows what Gertrude is talking about. She just smiles back at me, her expression part naughty, part nice, and clearly entertained by all of this.

  “They haven’t even met yet,” Miss H says. “How can they be engaged if they haven’t met?”

  “That’s neither here nor there,” Gertrude says. “I’m sure it will happen. That’s why the girls and I are out here promoting TJ.”

  “What’s going on?” Austin asks, brush in hand. “Am I going to have to break up a fight?” He winks at Miss H.

  Deacon wiggles his butt on my shoulders. “Go. Go.” He says it with a near-urgent tone, like a bank robber after a heist while climbing into the getaway vehicle.

  Violet helps him down as Austin looks at the seven of us in turn, waiting for a reply.

  It’s Miss H who puts him out of his misery. “I was just saying that TJ, Violet, and your nephew make a beautiful family.”

  Austin chuckles. “Except they’re not a family. TJ’s not the kind of man to settle down with one woman, never mind have a kid with her.”

  Gertrude’s gaze shoots to mine. “But…but what about the reality show? Aren’t you planning to marry the star if she picks you during the final episode?”

  Impatient to get going, Deacon makes a break for it.

  Before he has a chance to get far, I scoop him up. “Hey, little cowboy. Where you going?”

  He giggles. “Horsie.”

  “You wanna see the animals, do you?” I ask. Then to the women, I say, “There are fifteen other cowboys on the show. And there’s a good chance I won’t be voted to the next round.” If I’m lucky. “Plus Austin’s right. Violet, Deacon, and I aren’t a family. Hell, they don’t even live in the same state as me, never mind the same town.” I turn to Austin. “We’ll be back in a bit. Save us some ribs.”

  Without giving him and the older women a chance to respond, I walk off with Deacon still in my arms. Violet quickly catches up to us.

  “Here’s your hat, cowboy.” Her mouth twitches, but it doesn’t quite turn into a full smile.

  I stop walking, bow my head so she can place the hat on it, and straighten. “Thanks.”

  My gaze drops to her lips, and for once I wish I could kiss her in public. Kiss her and not pretend that she’s just a friend to me.

  Kiss her and show the world that I’m falling for this woman, hard, even though I shouldn’t. Especially since we can’t be together. Not now. Not ever.

  At the p
etting zoo, we enter the enclosure where three little kids are stroking the piglets. Deacon and I walk over to a pink piglet with black spots. The pig’s busy snorting and sniffing the dirt.

  Kneeling, I gently pick him up and cradle him against my body. He squeals but doesn’t fuss beyond that. Deacon squats in front of me, and at my encouragement, strokes the small pig.

  Violet’s camera clicks repeatedly in the background. Ignoring it, I smile at Deacon as he inspects the animal in my arms, a grin on his cute face.

  A surge of a raw emotion I can’t explain almost knocks me back into the dirt. An emotion I have no right to feel when it comes to Deacon or Violet.

  Doesn’t that just fuck all?

  By the time we return to Austin almost two hours later, Deacon is asleep in my arms, his head on my shoulder. Which comes as no surprise when you think of all the things he did this afternoon: Meeting the piglets, the lambs, the chicks, the baby goats. Going on the hayride. Winning the small stuffed horse. Well, technically, I won the horse, but he was extremely excited about it.

  I kiss Deacon on the top of his head. All around us, laughter, loud country music, the mayor declaring the winner of the Best Chili category, and applause fill the air. Deacon sleeps through it.

  “Looks like they’re about to announce the winner of the best barbecued ribs.” I indicate with my head where we can get a better view without the risk of being accidentally bumped.

  We move to the side, Violet carrying Deacon’s floppy horse.

  Her hand shifts to rest on my lower back. Her thumb lightly strokes against my T-shirt. The heat from her palm seeps through the fabric, and a dizzying need to kiss her and to claim her surges through me like a tsunami.

  Her hand is only on my back for a moment before it moves away, and I’m left with an empty coldness in its place.

  Aubrey and Sophie approach us, smiling and laughing. Neither of my brothers is with them.

  “What did you do to the poor kid?” Aubrey grins at Violet and then at me. “Well, aren’t you just adorable with Deacon asleep in your arms like that?”

  “She’s right,” Sophie says. “If the fair had a contest for the hottest man with a child, you’d win it for sure.”

  Aubrey lifts her phone and shoots what I guess to be photos of Deacon and me. She shows Violet the screen.

  A sweet smile spreads on Violet’s lips, but it only lasts a handful of seconds. My chest suddenly feels two sizes too small, and I would do almost anything to bring that smile back.

  “And now for the winners of the best damn ribs in all of Beaver Ridge County.” Mayor Diane Wineberg’s friendly voice rings loud and clear through the nearby speakers.

  And still Deacon doesn’t stir.

  She announces the two runners-up. “And the winner is…our very own Sheriff Brooks.”

  An excited, heartfelt applause breaks out among the crowd. A few girls nudge their way closer to the table that separates the contestants from the eager audience.

  And for a brief moment, I wonder if this would be a good time to announce to Austin that I’m falling in love with his sister. That my goal of getting her out of my system has been a complete and utter fail.

  But what’s the point of destroying my friendship with him when Violet doesn’t feel the same way about me? She’s just passing through town. Tomorrow, she and her son will be returning to LA. Returning to the job she enjoys.

  Returning to a life that doesn’t include me.

  20

  A week after Violet returns to work, I’m about to head out to do repairs on the pasture fence when the front doorbell rings. Noah and Jake are off doing their afternoon chores.

  Which means none of us are expecting visitors.

  I open the door. Cora Lee is standing on the porch, a white cardboard box perched on her hand.

  She smiles. “I come bearing a gift. May I come in? I need to talk to you for a moment.”

  I open the door wider. “Sure. But I can’t talk for long. I’ve still got lots to do before I can call it a day.”

  She enters the house and heads for the kitchen.

  Oookay.

  I follow her with Asgard trotting beside me.

  In the kitchen, Cora Lee parks the box on the table and opens it. Three cupcakes sit inside. Two are plain—each with a big swirl of blue icing. The other one is green, with a marzipan rabbit on top.

  “You dropped by to deliver cupcakes?” That would be a first.

  “No, I came to talk to you about Cowboy Most Wanted.”

  I mentally groan at the name. “What about the show?”

  “Well, it’s not so much about the show. It’s about how I have something you don’t want the producers to hear.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Because I really have no clue.

  She removes the marzipan rabbit from the cupcake. “I know you and Violet have been screwing like bunnies since she came back to town. And from what I’ve learned, that’s against the show’s contract you signed.”

  At her last words, unease starts pumping through my veins. A small amount. At first. Growing with each subsequent word. Thump. Thump. Thump.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Cora Lee. There’s nothing going on between Violet and me.”

  “Didn’t look that way the day I saw you with your head between Violet’s legs, not far from Joe’s. If memory serves me correct—and it does—the producer and some of the camera crew were also in the bar that night.”

  Busted.

  “I must admit, that was extremely hot.” She fans herself. “I even made a recording of it. You know…just in case.” She taps on her phone and a distinctive “Oh, God, TJ. Yes. Yes. Yes.” comes from the speaker. I probably could have claimed it was someone else if I hadn’t said Violet’s name right after that.

  Which means I can’t even say it happened before the show started taping. Everyone in town knows Violet hasn’t been in Copper Creek in over three years.

  “What is it you want?”

  And why do I have a feeling it’s going to be expensive?

  “As you know, my cupcakes are popular. Right now, I’m baking and decorating them in my kitchen. It’s not the ideal situation, especially since I want to expand the business. To do that, I need to rent some space and install professional-grade ovens and equipment.”

  “And you want hush money from me?”

  “No. I’m not a villain from one of your comic books. But I need you to help me with the bank. I’m not in the position to take out a business loan. I don’t make enough money waitressing at Joe’s for the bank to do anything beyond laugh at me. So I need you to cosign the loan.”

  Shit.

  “And what happens if you default on your payments? I could be in a worse position than if the show just sues me.”

  “That’s not going to happen. For one, I don’t need to borrow that much. Twenty grand should do it. And I plan to pay it all off myself. It’s my business. You’re just cosigning the bank loan.”

  I cross my arms. “And what if I say no?” Because despite what she says, twenty grand is a lot of money. The last thing I need is to be stuck paying her payments if she defaults on them.

  “I’ll let the producers know how you violated the contract. And given that Violet is one of their employees, I’m sure the producers won’t be impressed with either of you.”

  My breath stops, my mouth goes dry, and my heart goes, Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.

  All Violet’s hard work, all her sacrifices, will be for nothing.

  “Or I could just sell the story to the tabloids. Just think of the scandal that would cause.” Cora Lee bites off the rabbit’s head. I inwardly cringe on behalf of the poor fellow.

  Despite the seriousness of the situation, my mouth slides into a smirk. The number one rule when dealing with the villain? Don’t let them see you sweat. “Is that supposed to be your version of the boiling bunny?”

  She shrugs. “Melting a marzipan rabbit in boiling water doesn�
��t have the same effect as biting off its head.” Her mouth moves into its own smirk. “Besides, I love marzipan—so no way in hell am I wasting it in boiling water. But don’t think for a second that I’m not serious about my promise.”

  “You mean your threat.”

  She shrugs again. “To-ma-to. To-mah-toe.”

  “Who else knows about Violet and me?”

  Austin clearly hasn’t heard about it yet. He would have said something to me by now.

  Or maybe he’s on his way—ready to defend his sister’s honor.

  “No one. And I’ll keep it that way as long as you help me out.” She flashes me a bright smile. The smile of someone who got the Christmas present they’ve been hoping for.

  “I’ll give you twenty-four hours to get back to me. Then I can book an appointment with the bank.” With that, she walks out of the kitchen, her heels clicking against the tile floor.

  And I’m left wondering what the hell I’m supposed to do now.

  21

  “Remember, you’re doing this for the sake of the ranch,” Jake says for what has to be the fifth time in two days.

  That’s right—the odds were not in my favor when it came to the reality show.

  I can blame Mayor Wineberg for that.

  What happened? After the show opened the phone lines for people to vote for their favorite cowboy, she took it upon herself to campaign on my behalf. With Grandma Meg, Gertrude, and Tilly as her assistants, I never stood a chance.

  Too bad “my behalf” wants nothing to do with the show.

  I just want my life to return to normal. Well, a normal involving Violet and Deacon physically in my life and not just via Skype.

  And there might have also been a few texts to Violet while she was away.

  Dirty, forbidden texts.

  The last time I saw her was six weeks ago.

  Six weeks of missing her.

  Six weeks of not kissing or touching her.

  Six weeks of not being with her as her friend, as her lover.

  But I can’t be too mad at the mayor and her cohorts. Because of them, I get to spend the next five days with Violet. Except this time, we have to be extremely careful. If I look at her the wrong way, betraying how I feel about her, her brother will be the least of my problems. For now.