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

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Protect Me, Cowboy (78th Copper Mountain Rodeo Book 2) Page 15

by Shelli Stevens


  She knew he was teasing, but as she climbed beneath the spray of a hot shower a few minutes later, she wished he hadn’t been.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Wyatt had just wrapped up his meeting at the bank, pleased with the results, when he was stopped on First Street by Reverend Davis’s daughter, Bella.

  “Congrats on the rodeo win, Mr. Marshall.”

  “Thanks, Bella.”

  The girl smiled. “Hey, you and Claire are a couple right?”

  A couple? Hell, he wasn’t really sure what they were, besides sleeping together.

  “Ugh, we’re dating.” Wyatt scowled, that sounded safe enough for a reply. He knew they’d be fodder for gossip, but he hadn’t expected people to come say it to his face. Let alone one of the town’s teenagers.

  “I thought you were dating that Luanne gal, but I think Claire seems nicer. You guys are super cute together. Say, will you tell her I would love to buy a Bourbon and Boots album if they put one out?”

  So maybe this wasn’t about them, per se, but about Claire’s band. He knew the town had enjoyed her, but this was the second person he’d heard talking about Bourbon and Boots today. They must’ve left a really good impression on the folks in Marietta.

  “Sure. I’ll tell her.”

  “Or, really, it’s just that Guns and Roses song, ‘Paradise City’ that they covered. I saw the video and they really need to record it so we can buy it.”

  Video.

  It made sense then. Someone on the dinner and dance committee had probably filmed it and put it on the rodeo website.

  “I’ll be sure to let her know. Have a great day, Bella.”

  Speaking of Luanne, he was just about to climb into his truck when the redhead popped out of a nearby shop and spotted him.

  “Hey there, Wyatt.”

  Ah, hell.

  “Luanne.”

  She slid a hungry gaze over him. “Well, don’t you just look all handsome and dressed up?”

  “Just came from the bank. I need to get back to the ranch, though.” He dug for his keys in his slacks.

  “Hang on, Wyatt.”

  He sighed, and turned to face her.

  “That Claire girl isn’t one of us, you know that, right?” She looked up at him through earnest blue eyes. “I get that she’s pretty, and it’s absolutely normal that you’d be attracted to her.” Her lips thinned. “Maybe you’ve even acted on that attraction, which I understand. You’re a red-blooded man. But her type won’t stay around Marietta for long. We both know that.”

  Wyatt wanted to tell her off and argue every aggressive point she’d just made. But unfortunately her words mimicked the very fears he’d had in his own head.

  “And I just wanted you to know, I’ll wait for you. When she’s gone, and when you come to your senses, I’ll be here.”

  Before he realized what she was up to, Luanne leaned forward and kissed him. It was so quick, that before he realized what she was about she’d already lifted her head.

  “We’re good together, Wyatt. In bed and out. You know I’d be a great rancher’s wife and mama. You’d never have to worry about me running out on our kids.”

  Ouch. Low blow. His mouth thinned and he turned away, jerking open his truck.

  “You know I’m right.”

  He wasn’t even going to respond to her ridiculous attack. Because that was what it had been.

  And yet, the whole drive back to Marietta, he couldn’t get the feeling she was right out of his head. She’d tapped into his fears about Claire.

  He’d been starting to feel serious with her. Long-term. But what if she ran again? She admitted she’d do what she had to do. Maybe it wouldn’t be right away, but what if a few years down the road she did. And what if, God forbid, they had kids?

  Just the thought of it sent a wave of nausea through him.

  He needed more time with her. Time to figure out how he really felt about her. If it was like a forever thing, or something that would fizzle out by the end of the week.

  When he entered the house Katie and Claire were in the living room, curled up on opposite ends of the oversized leather couch, deep in discussion about something. Both of their heads lifted when he walked in.

  Claire’s glance roved over him from head to toe, and her lips curled into a slight smile. “Don’t you look fancy.”

  “Had to dress up for the bank.”

  “Must’ve been an important visit,” she murmured.

  It had been, which was still a conversation he dreaded having with Katie later.

  “Dinner should be ready in about a half-hour.”

  Which gave him just enough time. “You wanna take a walk with me before we eat?”

  Her brows rose and she only hesitated a second, before nodding. “Sure, that sounds great.”

  She stood up and they walked outside together. He glanced her over, taking in the clothes she’d changed into.

  “I like your outfit. Is that one of the new ones?”

  “Yeah,” she grimaced.

  “It looks real nice on you.”

  The jeans looked sturdy, like they’d hold up on a ranch, and the light beige button-up blouse appeared soft and comfortable. She looked casual and sexy. All he could think of was how he was going to enjoy stripping her out of it tonight. He wanted to touch her again.

  Once they were down the steps and on the path toward the trees behind the cabins, he caught her hand in his.

  She glanced up at him. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you without your hat and not wearing jeans.”

  He grinned, trying to forget about the conversation with Luanne. “Had to get a little gussied up for the bank and all.”

  “I guess so. It suits you.”

  “You think I should wear it a little more often?”

  “Oh, not that often. Jeans do way more for your butt.”

  He threw his head back and laughed, his fingers tightening around hers. Resolve filled him. His blood pumped through his veins like he was a damn teenager.

  Once they were a good amount in the trees, he came to a stop and turned her to face him.

  “Don’t leave.”

  Her brows furrowed and there was a flash of panic in her gaze. “What do you mean?”

  “Don’t leave tomorrow. Why don’t you spend the rest of the week in Marietta? With me.”

  The frown disappeared. “You want me to stay the week?”

  “You said yourself you didn’t have to work. I’m not ready to let you go home yet, Claire.” His gut twisted with the fear that she would turn him down. That maybe she didn’t want to stay longer. “Are you ready to leave me?”

  She sighed and her expression softened. “No. I’m not. But I only packed for a few days. I know you bought me clothes, but there are other things. One being my laptop. I don’t have to go into work, but I still need to answer any questions that come into the bakery’s email address.”

  “Fine. No big deal, let’s go to Bozeman tomorrow and grab some of your stuff.”

  Her gaze searched his. “You’d do that for me? You want me to stay that badly, cowboy?”

  “I’d drive you to Texas if it meant you agreeing to say the rest of the week.”

  She laughed. “Yes. I’ll stay.”

  Before she could finish her sentence he hauled her against him and lifted her off the ground, crushing her mouth beneath his.

  Her legs wrapped around his waist and she kissed him back like she was starving for the taste of him.

  *

  Claire couldn’t get enough of him. She wanted this kiss to go on forever. Her heart beat in her chest like a caged bird and joy flooded her from head to toe.

  He wanted her to stay the rest of the week. It was a lifeline when they were both swimming in unknown waters.

  When she broke the kiss with to drag in a breath, he lowered her back to the ground.

  “I love the way you kiss me,” she whispered, her cheeks flaming with embarrassment.

  He laughed. �
�Good. Hey, I forgot to mention that I ran into some people in town who were all excited about your performance at the dance.”

  “Really?” Unease settled in her gut. This was just getting weird. “I’ve had a few people come up to me too. Which, I mean, it happens. But this seems a little more than normal.”

  “Yeah, I figure they put you up on the rodeo website and people are checking it out.”

  “Oh. That would make sense then.” The rodeo site was probably fairly popular with the locals. So why wasn’t that feeling of unease going away?

  “It’s a good thing,” he reassured her. “Let’s head back for dinner. Missing one meal, Katie will let slide. But two…”

  “I have no intention of skipping dinner. I worked my butt off on that whiskey cake for dessert.”

  “I can’t wait. Now that’s motivation to show up in itself.”

  He caught her hand in his and they walked back to the main house, comparing favorite cakes the whole way there.

  *

  “This is all you want to bring?”

  Claire hid a smile as she set down the bag near the front door. She knew what Wyatt must see as he glanced around.

  The basement was cold and concrete, with a rusty sink in the corner, and a small room that she rented. Nothing more than a squeaky bed and stained dresser in there.

  “This is it.” She smiled.

  “How do you survive in here?” he muttered, picking up her suitcase.

  “It’s cheap. But when I compare it to your charming cabin with mountains and trees literally in my backyard, well, it doesn’t really hold up well.”

  “You won’t be in the cabin anymore.”

  She glanced up at him in surprise as they made their way to his truck.

  “Where will I stay?”

  “In the big house. In my room.” He tossed the bag into the back of the truck and turned to face her, placing his hands on her hips and drawing her close. “In my bed. It’s more comfortable. It’s a California king, ya see.”

  She gave a husky laugh. “Oh yes, I get it now.”

  He dropped a soft kiss on her mouth. “How about we grab some lunch before we head back to Marietta. There’s this brewery I love to hit when I pass through here.”

  “Sounds good. I’m starving.”

  A short while later they sat on the patio of the brewery, staring at the mountains, each nursing a beer and waiting on the pizza they’d ordered.

  There’d been a fairly short, though heated, debate on whether to get a Hawaiian pizza. Wyatt believed pineapple on pizza was a crime, and she believed it was a delicious art. Eventually they’d agreed on ordering pepperoni.

  “This was my college town,” Wyatt admitted looking around. “Sometimes I miss it, but I’m not a fan of the big cities for more than a week or two now.”

  Big city? Coming from Los Angeles and then Vegas, Bozeman had felt like a small town. That was until she’d discovered Marietta, which was the epitome of a small town.

  “You must’ve come here now and then,” Wyatt said, gesturing around. “Great beer and pizza.”

  “Actually, I’ve never been here.” She grimaced. “I didn’t get out much, I just creative with Top Ramen and tuna fish.”

  “Oh yuck. That sounds kind of gross, honey.” His brows drew together is dismay. “I don’t know how you did it.”

  “It’s dirt cheap for some carbs and protein.” She took a sip of beer. “What, you never went through the Top Ramen phase? Not even when you went away to college?”

  “Hell no. I came from a ranch. Had all the beef I could ever want—dad drove it over to me personally. Rice was cheap, and so I got pretty good at cooking that up for a side dish.”

  She laughed. “And vegetables?”

  “Who needs them.” He joined her laughter. “Actually, I was a professional at opening a can of corn.”

  She arched a brow. “Regular or creamed?”

  “Creamed. Is there any other way?”

  Because she wasn’t sure if he was serious or not, she laughed harder.

  Their pizza arrived and they dug in, talking easily through the meal. They were nearly finished when a woman approached the table.

  “Sorry to bother you.” The woman, who looked to be in her fifties, wore a sheepish expression. “You aren’t Claire from Bourbon and Boots, are you?”

  She smiled hesitantly. “I am, actually.”

  Okay, this was getting weird. Claire told herself as her heart began thudding faster. Bourbon and Boots was based out of Bozeman, and they were more likely to get recognized here.

  “I thought so! I confess, I haven’t stopped watching the video since my daughter showed it to me.”

  Claire’s smile faltered. A video of the concert had made it to Bozeman?

  “Which video is that, if I could ask?” Wyatt asked.

  His tone was friendly, but Claire could tell he was a little confused now, too.

  “Oh, well, I didn’t realize there was more than one. It’s the Guns and Roses song, but country-like.”

  “Oh, right.” Claire nodded. She’d expected that response. “Hey, out of curiosity, which website did you see it on?”

  The woman shrugged. “It was on Facebook. My daughter shared it on her page.”

  So someone must’ve been at the dance, filmed it, and put it online? That made a little more sense. Somewhat. She’d deleted all her social media accounts once she’d left Vegas.

  She knew there was a Facebook page for Bourbon and Boots, though. But last she’d heard they only had a couple hundred fans on it.

  Just when she was starting to feel a little better, the woman added, “But I imagine that video is just about everywhere now. Everyone’s talking about it.”

  As Claire’s stomach plummeted to her toes, Wyatt pulled out a wad of cash and tossed it on the table.

  “Well, we’re glad you enjoyed the song. Not meaning to be rude and all, but if you’ll excuse us, we need to head back home to Marietta soon.”

  “Oh, of course.” The woman backed away quickly. “You folks have a nice day.”

  Claire watched her sit back down at the table on the other side of the patio.

  “I don’t know what’s going on.”

  “We’ll figure it out in the truck.” He stood, caught her hand, and hurried her out of the brewery.

  Once inside the vehicle, he turned to her. “Maybe you should text your bandmates. Ask what’s going on.”

  “I left my phone in the cabin.” She twisted a curl around her finger and gave a frustrated laugh. “I rarely use it.”

  “Hang on. I’ve got an idea.”

  He pulled out his phone and opened a web browser. She watched as he searched for her band and the song that everyone kept approaching her about.

  The list of hits that came up made her stomach sink.

  She didn’t need to tell him to click the first one, because he’d already clicked it.

  The YouTube video was a fairly close up shot of the band performing their blue grass version of “Paradise City”.

  “I know who uploaded this. She’s a rodeo blogger,” he muttered. “Married to a bull rider.”

  “And a lot of people have watched it?”

  Wyatt nodded. “A lot is an understatement.

  She searched the page, trying to figure out where the amount of people who’d viewed the video was, and then she spotted it.

  Her breath locked and nausea swept through her. That was a big number. Just over five million.

  Wyatt shook his head. “Bourbon and Boots went viral.”

  *

  At first it hadn’t hit him. Wyatt couldn’t figure out why the band having a song that went viral was a bad thing. And when it finally had sunk in, he completely understood Claire’s panic.

  “It’ll be all right,” he said quietly, as they made the drive back to Marietta.

  “What if it’s not?” she asked, her words unsteady. “What if he sees it?”

  “He” being Alfredo. There was
no need to clarify.

  “You look completely different now, Claire. You’re not that same girl you were in Vegas.”

  “You recognized me.”

  True. And he’d recognized her voice the moment she’d sang—even if she’d changed the genre of music.

  He caught her hand and pulled it into his, steering with one wheel. “I don’t want you to be scared over this, honey.”

  “I don’t want to be scared. I really don’t.” Her voice wavered. “It’s why I carry a gun.”

  A gun she didn’t know how to shoot, he remembered grimly. Damn, but he’d fix that and fast.

  “It’s been a year. This asshole ex-boss of yours has probably moved on to someone else to harass.”

  “And if he hasn’t?”

  “Then he’ll have to go through me to get to you.”

  She was silent, and when he glanced at her he saw the grim set of her jaw. The conflict in her eyes.

  “And, look, this video thing will blow over soon. Everyone has their five minutes of fame, and some other viral video will replace it by morning, likely.”

  She didn’t reply and he glanced over to see she’d closed her eyes. Maybe she’d she was tuning him out now, because she certainly seemed in her own little world.

  He swore and floored it, taking them out of the mountain pass and closer to Marietta.

  *

  After dinner, Wyatt stood in the kitchen helping Katie with the dishes. Claire, whose offer to help with dishes had been turned down, had gone outside on the porch to read a book. She’d been quieter than usual tonight, and he wasn’t the only one to notice.

  “What happened in Bozeman?” Katie asked.

  Wyatt hesitated, holding back a sigh. Claire hadn’t told anyone except him about her past, and he wasn’t sure it was the right thing to do to spill her secrets.

  “Seems like one of the songs from the dance went viral, and she’s not really thrilled about it.”

  “Went viral?” Katie gave him a sideways look and handed him a potato casserole-crusted pan to wash. “You’d think that would be a good thing.”

  He shook his head. “Bourbon and Boots isn’t looking for fame. They’re a small-time band.”

  “Yeah, but any exposure is good exposure, right?”

 

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