Protect Me, Cowboy (78th Copper Mountain Rodeo Book 2)

by Shelli Stevens

  “No. You really don’t know me at all.” It was a fairly honest answer that she didn’t have to feel guilty about.

  He twisted her curl around his finger and then released it, moving his calloused fingers to trace down the curve of her jaw.

  The desire to turn her cheek into his palm was almost overpowering. She bit her lip to stop from doing it.

  “You’re right. I don’t know you,” he relented. “But I find myself wanting to.”

  Bad idea. She shouted the response in her head, but couldn’t seem to manage it out loud. She was frozen with the need to know what happened next. What he’d say. What he’d do.

  What he did was to let her go and turn away. “We should get back.”

  The anticipation that had been holding tension in her body released and she went lax. She closed her eyes and let out a shaky breath.

  She followed after him, determined to get back on her horse without his help this time, even if she broke her neck trying.

  Once they arrived back at the ranch she made sure to hightail it to her cabin and stay hidden this time. She skipped lunch, because she couldn’t possibly have eaten after the huge breakfast, but went up to the house for dinner.

  Any fear of running into Wyatt was demolished when she realized he wasn’t there. One of the ranch hands brought it up and Katie mentioned he was one a date.

  Claire’s stomach had clenched and she lost her appetite. Of course a man like Wyatt would have women clamoring for him. It was kind of an anomaly that he wasn’t married yet.

  She climbed into bed that night with renewed determined to just get through the weekend and keep her distance from him.

  Should be easy enough, right?

  *

  “How was your date last night?”

  Wyatt paused in the middle of filling up his coffee mug to give his sister a pointed look.

  “It wasn’t a date. We were having dinner.”

  “Oh, wasn’t it?” Katie asked with false innocence. “I think Luanne has a different impression. She’s been telling half the town you guys are probably back together.”

  He grunted. The dinner last night had gone fine. They’d gotten along all right. Talked. Laughed. But it was different from when they’d been dating. Something was missing.

  He’d realized later it was the chemistry. It had seemed more like dining with an old friend, rather than old lover. They’d ended the night without even a kiss, which she’d seemed disappointed in, even if she hadn’t said as much.

  Still, he’d been thankful for the distraction from thinking about Claire. The ride with her yesterday had messed with his head more than he’d wished. He’d resisted the urge to haul her into his arms and kiss her more than once.

  “Are you going to see her again?”

  “I’m sure I will. She’s barrel racing today.”

  “Ah, right.” Katie smirked. “Best of luck to her.”

  She’d need it, they both knew, because Luanne had always been a terrible barrel racer. He couldn’t figure out why she’d stuck with it for so long.

  “Want to bring out this eggs Benedict casserole for me?”

  “Casserole?” He set down his mug and peered over her shoulder.

  “You can thank Pinterest. Hopefully it tastes decent.”

  Katie handed him a giant cake pan full of the delicious looking concoction.

  “I’m sure it will. This looks incredible.” He carried the pan into the dining room, where the ranch hands were already seated with Claire across from them.

  “Morning, everyone,” he greeted, setting the pan down.

  Both of the ranch hands called out a greeting, but Claire had visibly stiffened, and if she responded it was inaudible.

  He sat down across from her, because it was his usual spot, and slid a glance over her. She wore a light blue t-shirt and had her curls pulled back in a ponytail. The hairstyle highlighted her face that sent another sliver of recognition through him again.

  Once again he couldn’t help but think how Claire had similar features from Sin from Vegas.

  He scooped up a hefty amount of casserole onto his plate, his brows drawn together as he got lost in his thoughts. Thinking about Sin. Thinking about Claire.

  Sinclair…

  He blinked and looked up at her again. The two names went pretty well together. Another coincidence?

  He took a bite of casserole, barely noting it was indeed amazing, as he lifted his gaze back to Claire in a steady perusal. She was ignoring him now, eating her breakfast and making small talk with Katie.

  He mentally exchanged those big blonde curls for black, straight hair and imagined her bare face loaded with lots of makeup.

  They had similar faces, but it was pretty hard to imagine Claire with a more rocker look. Hell, he couldn’t even be sure he’d seen Sin all that well that night in Vegas.

  Dark bar, dark hallway, dark corner table at a steakhouse. Everywhere they’d been alone together had been in dim lighting.

  But he remembered her petite curves and had to admit they were similar to Claire’s. That tiny waist and pert bottom.

  Maybe right now he was just seeing what he wanted to see.

  “Aren’t you, Wyatt?”

  He snapped his attention away from Claire and instead to his sister.

  “What’s that, Katie?”

  “I was just telling Claire that you’d be heading out to rodeo in a bit, preliminaries are today, and she should go watch.”

  Claire didn’t even glance up from her breakfast. “Unfortunately, I can’t. I’m meeting with the band at ten to warm up and do a sound check.”

  Even if she hadn’t had plans, he sensed it was the last thing she’d want to do.

  “That’s all right. You can still come watch me win tomorrow,” he drawled, throwing down the offer like a challenging gauntlet.

  Claire’s narrowed gaze jerked up and locked with his.

  “Oh geez, Wy, really?” Katie laughed and shook her head, then turned to Claire. “Yeah, my brother’s a little confident, but he’s got every right to be. Took first place in team roping at the NFR last year.”

  “That stands for the National Finals Rodeo which is in Vegas,” he added, holding her gaze. “You ever been there?”

  She didn’t even blink. “To the NFR? No.”

  “To Vegas.”

  She gave a small shrug. “Who hasn’t?”

  “I haven’t,” Lyle volunteered cheerfully. “Sure would like to go some day. Maybe for my bachelor party if I ever get hitched.”

  “It’s fun for a few days, but a little overrated in my opinion.” Claire grabbed her coffee and took a sip.

  Wyatt nodded. “Yeah. Probably a crappy place to live.”

  Claire didn’t react, except for the slightest clenching of her hands around her coffee cup, but then maybe he was just seeing things.

  “I wouldn’t wanna live there. I’m country born and bred,” Tim inserted. “But sign me up for a weekend of fun anytime. I went for a few days when I turned twenty-one.”

  “This is delicious, Katie.” Claire’s tone was overly bright as she gestured to her plate.

  Lyle and Tim chimed in their agreement.

  “Thanks, everyone.”

  The rest of the breakfast was made discussing today’s rodeo and the dance tonight. When they finished breakfast and brought their plates to the kitchen, Katie glanced his way.

  “Oh, hey, Wyatt, since you’re heading into town would you mind dropping Claire off?” Katie asked. “I was planning on doing it, but since you’re already heading down there it would save me the trip.”

  Even though Claire was at the sink rinsing her late, there was no mistaking the way her shoulders stiffened.

  “I don’t mind at all,” he drawled. “We’ll head out after our roping lesson.”

  “Oh, we don’t have to,” Claire said quickly. “I’m sure you’ve got plenty to do before we leave—”

  “Actually, I planned to warm up with a little roping
. Would love to have you along.”

  He could practically hear Claire’s teeth clench, but she didn’t reply.

  “Well that’s nice of you, Wy.” Katie beamed, surprise in her tone. “It’s really pretty fun, Claire. I can’t lasso at all. I’m more of a barrel racer, or would be if my ankle wasn’t recovering from the last rodeo.”

  “You’ll get back into the game, Katie.” Wyatt kissed her forehead. “Thanks for breakfast. How about I meet you out by the stables in fifteen, Claire?”

  “Sure. That sounds great.”

  He chuckled and left the house. Her words had said one thing, but her tone had said another.

  Something told him he was going to enjoy the next hour or so.

  *

  Claire seethed as she strode back to her cabin.

  Her plan at avoiding Wyatt as much as possible was not going well at all. It was almost like the harder she tried, the more fate seemed determined to push them together.

  Fate or Katie.

  She wasn’t sure, but she almost felt a bit like the other woman was discreetly trying to set the two of them up. Which was weird, because clearly Wyatt had another love interest.

  Hopefully she was imaging things. Claire had no intention of getting involved in a romantic relationship with anyone. Especially not with the sexy cowboy she’d left hanging in Vegas.

  Guilt slid through her and she swallowed against the lump in her throat.

  Wyatt had brought up Vegas and stared her down. Had he recognized her? Started to put it together? She’d thought she was safe on the ride yesterday. But he kept making little comments to make her panic a little. And then at breakfast those little comments had escalated to a more dangerous level.

  What was going on? He should’ve forgotten her by now. Though maybe getting blue-balled and having fifty dollars stolen imprinted on one’s long term memory.

  Still, the idea should’ve been ridiculously far-fetched in his mind. She looked nothing like the woman he’d met that night. She wasn’t that woman anymore, if she ever had been in the first place. Sin was just a character she’d played on the music stage.

  Claire stuffed her dress for tonight and makeup pouch into a small tote bag, knowing she likely wasn’t coming back before the gig.

  After the sound check she’d just have to kill time in town somewhere. Maybe back at Grey’s Saloon. Find a dark corner and play some solitaire on her phone.

  Speaking of. She checked her phone for the time and realized she needed to head back out and meet Wyatt.

  Why had she ever agreed to meet him for a roping lesson? The last thing she needed was another moment alone with him.

  Still mentally kicking herself, she left the cabin and made her way to the stables. She found Wyatt out there, leaning against the building with a coil of rope in his hand.

  She let out a sigh from between her teeth. This was really happening. She was going to learn how to rope things. What kind of things she had yet to find out.

  Wyatt saw her approach and straightened. “You ready?”

  “Sure.”

  He grinned and gestured for her to follow him. “This way. The roping dummy is set up and ready for you.”

  Roping dummy?

  He hopped over the fence into the pasture with an ease that had her shaking her head. Was she supposed to climb it?

  With a sigh, she gripped the top post and stepped up, swinging her leg up and over. Before she could step down, those increasingly familiar hands gripped her waist and lowered her to the ground.

  His touch felt like a brand and she pressed her lips together, hating that she still felt it even after he’d removed his hands.

  She turned and glanced around, curious what the roping dummy was. It turned out to be a barrel of hay with what looked like plastic horns on top.

  “I’m going to show you how to rope from the ground—you’ve got to build up to roping from a horse.”

  She couldn’t help but laugh. “Probably a good thing, when I’d probably be dumped in the kiddie class of horseback riding.”

  He grinned and started swinging the lasso. “You’re being too hard on yourself.”

  “So this is what you use to practice roping?” she asked.

  “I’ll rope just about anything and everything. Fence posts. Cattle. This dummy.”

  As she watched he released the loop and it sailed right over the horns. He tugged, and the loop tightened around them.

  “Just like that.”

  “That easy, huh?” she drawled.

  “Come here and I’ll show ya.”

  She reluctantly walked closer to him. He took the rope and arranged it so one hand held the loop and the other held the coils.

  “Now go ahead and get a little closer.”

  “Ah see, you’re already going easier on me,” she teased, but moved closer to the dummy.

  Before he could give her further instruction, she started swinging the loop above her head.

  “Just going to give it a go, huh?”

  “Yep.” She eyed the horns, thinking this couldn’t possibly be all that hard. With a grunt, she threw the loop and watched it sail right past the dummy. “Well, crap.”

  Wyatt chuckled. “How about you let me give you a quick lesson?”

  She sighed. “Fine.”

  He came up behind her, positioning both her hands. He started to describe the various parts of the lasso, which kind of blew her mind, because it seemed like it was just a rope with a loop on the end.

  “Swing from the elbow. Yeah, there you go. Now don’t just throw with your wrist, get your elbow into it, too.”

  She tried six times, getting more frustrated, and more aware of the tall, lanky cowboy standing a little too close.

  It almost seemed as if he were finding reasons to touch her. To put a hand on her hip to turn her, of hold her wrist between those big fingers as he showed her how to swing.

  When her loop fell over one of the horns, he hollered, “Good, now jerk the rope.”

  She tugged on the rope like she’d seen him do and then shook her head. “This is way harder than it looks, and I’m standing super close to this fake cow.”

  He laughed and took the rope back from her when she shoved it at him. Feeling flustered and a little warm, she needed to put some space between them.

  “So, hey, I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

  “Tell me what?” She smoothed her hands down the back of her jeans, wiping off any dirt.

  “That I’ve met your double.”

  With those four words her calm disappeared, and the air locked in her lungs. She stared at the ground.

  “Have you?”

  Just sound casual, Claire. Indifferent.

  “Sure have.” He walked the couple of steps that separated them. “I mean, she’s a bit different than you, but you’ve got the same eyes. She sang in some dive lounge in Vegas.”

  Oh, dear God.

  He hadn’t forgotten her.

  Chapter Five

  Wyatt had mentioned the lounge singer in Vegas just for fun and to see how she’d react. He’d expected her to laugh. To be curious. He hadn’t expected the shock in her eyes, or her hands to ball into fists.

  He blinked as his blood started to pump a little faster.

  Damn.

  That wasn’t the reaction of someone who had no idea what he was talking about.

  Claire gave what sounded like a strained laugh. “Oh, really? That’s interesting. I mean I’ve heard everyone has a twin out there.”

  Fighting shock, he reached out to touch her cheek. There was barely veiled panic in her eyes.

  Either he was right that Sin had a twin, or Sin was standing right in front of him with a half-assed country girl makeover.

  The idea momentarily stripped him of the ability to say anything. He touched her face, tracing it like he’d traced Sin’s in Vegas. Just who the hell was this woman in front of him?

  He floundered, trying to put the pieces together. It was absurd, wasn’t
it? Too far-fetched to believe. Not to mention the big question of why. Why would she do something like that and end up here in Montana? In Marietta?

  God, what he wouldn’t give for a black wig and some eyeliner right now.

  Claire stumbled away from him. “You know I should probably get ready before we head into town.”

  “Claire, wait.”

  But she didn’t. She turned on her heel and ran. So instinct had him doing the only thing he could to stop her. He swung the lasso over his head, eyed his target, and threw.

  It sailed over her head and landed above her breasts. He tugged the loop just taut enough to stop her brisk stride. She stumbled to a halt with a yelp.

  “What the—oh, my God, Wyatt. You just lassoed me.” Her eyes rounded and she struggled to free herself from the loop. “Like I’m one of your damned cows!”

  “Sorry about that.” But he wasn’t. It gave him the chance to catch up with her and stop her from running.

  She backed away from him, her bottom smacking into the fence post. He followed her.

  “I’m going to make a wild guess, Claire.”

  Guardedness flickered in her eyes. “What?”

  He curled his hands around the wooden fence post on either side of her.

  Beneath the clingy sweater, the curves of her breasts nearly brushed his chest and the scent of her, unique and sweet, teased his nose. He was all too aware of her as a woman. As the woman she might be. The woman he couldn’t decide if he wanted her to be.

  The blood in his veins heated, pounding with awareness and need.

  “Your name is Sinclair,” he began softly, “Sin is the stage name you used in Vegas, and Claire is your nickname.”

  Fight or flight. He watched the naked emotions flicker in her eyes for several seconds. Then, in the blink of her eyes, it was gone. She was eerily composed, her gaze emotionless now.

  “Well, you’re partially right. My name is Sinclair and I go by Claire, but I don’t use stage names and I’ve never sang in Vegas.”

  She was so convincing, so calm, he almost doubted himself. But she was lying, he knew it in his gut.

  “The hell you haven’t,” he cursed. Frustration mingled with his desire for her. “You owe me an explanation. Not to mention fifty bucks.”