The Cowboy Meets His Match

by Sarah Mayberry

  It wasn’t until afterward that he’d let himself think about what she’d said to him before walking away. How would you feel if one of your buddies made you the same offer?

  He’d fobbed her off at the time, but the truth was he’d be majorly pissed off if one of his buddies offered to step aside so Jesse could have a clear shot at winning an event. To do so would imply Jesse couldn’t get there on his own, something that wouldn’t sit well with any competitive athlete.

  He’d never want a win he hadn’t earned—but that was exactly what he’d offered CJ.

  He’d wanted to kick something when it finally sank in what he’d done. He’d been so intent on helping her, he hadn’t stopped to think about the message his offer would send. He’d just…waded in, intent on fixing things, because for some reason he’d felt like it was his place to right the wrongs in her world.

  No one had asked that of him, especially not CJ. In fact, she’d explicitly asked him to butt out.

  Even now, a good hour after their fight, the memory of his dumbass, blundering offer made him want to squirm. Was it any wonder CJ had ripped him a new one?

  “Hey. You okay?” Sierra asked, and he realized he hadn’t responded to her question.

  “Yeah, of course.”

  “You’re not upset about not winning, are you?” Sierra asked, lowering her voice a little.

  He gave her a hard look, genuinely offended. “To CJ, with that ride? She earned that prize ten times over and I’m glad she won.”

  Sierra held up a hand to ward off his anger. “Geez, sorry. You just seem…not yourself.”

  “Didn’t get much sleep last night,” he said without thinking.

  His sister raised a too-innocent eyebrow. “Didn’t you? Why not?”

  He huffed out a reluctant laugh. “Do you ever stop?”

  “Hey, you dangled the bait, I just took it.”

  The stand filled with the sound of applause and cheering and he focused on the arena and saw the bull riding was done, which meant they were just minutes away from the award ceremony. Around them, people started to gather their coats and hats, which was pretty typical for a rodeo crowd. They already knew who’d won, they’d done their cheering, and now the race was on to get out of the parking lot with as little pain as possible.

  There were plenty of people staying put, however, and he was glad. He wanted CJ to hear the crowd cheering for her as she accepted her prize. He imagined how buzzed she must be as she waited for her name to be called, the moment made extra-special because her folks had made the long trip to witness her achievement.

  He was that fucking happy for her, he really was. On all counts. He just wished he had a right to celebrate her win with her, instead of being the guy who’d given her a big vote of no confidence minutes before her ride.

  Down on the arena, volunteers ran out with sponsor flags and took up position. Moments later, the MC interrupted the Garth Brooks’s song blaring over the PA to announce Travis McMahon, one of the people who’d pulled the Copper Mountain Rodeo together this year. Tall, lean and gray haired, Travis strode to the center of the arena accompanied by one of the rodeo princesses, the poor girl struggling to manage an armful of oversized checks for most of the short walk.

  Travis made a mercifully short speech praising the work of the people who’d helped fundraise to rebuild the arena, then quickly moved on to announcing the winners. Jesse clapped along with everyone else as cowboys came out one by one to collect their oversized checks and trophy buckles. Some of them were friends and he cheered for them, but when CJ’s name was announced he surged to his feet and gave an ear-piercing whistle, adding to the clamor the crowd was making.

  Down on the arena, CJ laughed and shook hands with Travis before accepting her buckle and check. Then she turned toward the stand and held her buckle hand high, silently thanking them for their support. For the second time that day Jesse’s chest got tight as he watched her stand tall and proud, totally owning the moment.

  “God, she’s like a freaking superhero,” Sierra said, and he realized she’d stood to cheer for CJ, too.

  “Yeah,” he said, because he didn’t trust himself to say any more.

  He was thinking about the way she’d talked about learning to break horses when they were tangled in bed last night, and the wild, untamed look in her eye when he’d told her to remember to have fun before her ride yesterday.

  Cassidy Jane Cooper was a one-off, and he knew in his gut she was going to do great things in rodeo. Watching her walk across to join the rest of the event winners, he made a decision: he needed to square things with her, to apologize for his inept attempt to support her. Not for a second did he think doing so would get her back into his bed—it wasn’t about that. He simply wanted the right to call her his friend, and friends apologized when they’d fucked up.

  “Hey, cool,” Sierra said, her phone in hand. “CJ texted me earlier—she says her and her folks are going to be at Grey’s celebrating this afternoon, and she wants to buy us all drinks.”

  She gave Jesse a pleased nudge in the ribs before starting to tap out her response. Jesse returned his gaze to the tall, dark-haired woman on the arena below.

  Looked like he’d be getting a chance to extract his foot from his mouth sooner rather than later.

  *

  “My goodness, I think we’d better order some food,” CJ’s mother said, lifting a hand to her forehead. “I’m feeling a little woozy.”

  CJ didn’t bother to hide her smile. She was definitely feeling a little woozy, her mother’s euphemism for drunk.

  They’d been at Grey’s for nearly an hour now, and neither she nor her parents had had to buy a single drink the entire time.

  The first round had been on the house, to celebrate her win. After that, a bunch of local women had insisted on buying them a round after raving about how awesome it had been watching CJ hold her own in the arena. Then a group of cowboys had claimed it was their turn, and so on.

  Hence CJ’s definitely woozy status.

  “I’ll get us something,” she said, already sliding out of the booth.

  “See if they have buffalo wings,” her father chimed in, earning himself an exasperated look from her mother, who fought a daily losing battle with his fondness for deep-fried food.

  CJ gave him a wink to let him know she was on it, then made her way to the bar, frowning at all the aches and pains that sprang to life the moment she moved. Tomorrow was not going to be pretty.

  And yet she didn’t regret a single bump, bruise or ache.

  She bellied up to the bar and ordered food for their table, as well as a round of Cokes. When she was done, she caught herself checking the entrance for the twentieth time that hour and gave herself a mental kick.

  Keeping watch for Jesse Carmody’s arrival was both pathetic and pointless. Either he’d come or he wouldn’t—and if he did come, it wouldn’t change anything, because they’d had their one night together and it wasn’t going to happen again.

  Also—and this was important—she was still hurt and disappointed about what had happened before her ride. She’d already acknowledged she hadn’t handled his offer well—but she really, really wished he hadn’t made it in the first place.

  But maybe it made it easier, knowing that despite what he’d said previously and the way he’d supported her up until that moment, deep down inside Jesse didn’t think she was his equal.

  It wasn’t a thought or a memory she wanted to dwell on, and she pushed it from her mind as she returned to the booth. She was sliding in beside her mother when she registered movement in her peripheral vision and turned to see the Carmodys arrive, Sierra in the lead.

  The younger woman spotted CJ immediately. “There she is, the woman of the hour,” Sierra hollered.

  CJ could feel herself going red as all heads turned their way. Trust Sierra to turn a few quiet drinks into an Event.

  “Shut up and come over here,” CJ said, waving the Carmodys over.

  “
You must be so proud,” Sierra told her parents as they arrived at the booth. “Wasn’t she amazing out there?”

  “She was. And we are,” her father said, and CJ shook her head because it was either that or get choked up all over again.

  Everyone was looking at CJ expectantly. “Oh, right. Introductions.”

  She reeled off names as the Carmodys slid into the booth, Sierra beside her, Jed, Jesse and Casey on the other side of the table. It was cozy, but bearable—except for the fact that someone’s knees were pressed against hers, and she was pretty sure they were Jesse’s.

  Either that, or she was ridiculously attuned to anyone with Carmody genes, and she was pretty sure that wasn’t the case because she was rubbing shoulders with Sierra and it wasn’t doing a thing for her.

  Glancing across the table, she met Jesse’s green eyes and knew without a doubt that it was him and that he was as aware of her as she was of him.

  “We need champagne,” Sierra said, twisting to face the bar. “Hey, Reese, we need bubbles. The real French stuff.”

  The bartender raised a hand in acknowledgment, and Sierra turned back to the table looking pleased with herself.

  “As you can see, Sierra’s the quiet one in the family,” Jesse said dryly.

  “Who wants to be quiet when CJ just won her first pro rodeo?” Sierra said.

  “You going to wear your buckle or mount it in a frame?” Jed asked.

  “I don’t know. I kind of want to do both.” Her gaze found Jesse’s across the table. “Is it dorky to wear it?”

  He rose from his seat, enough so she could see his belt buckle, an engraved silver nickel square with black enameled writing on it.

  “Is that your first buckle?” she asked.

  “First pro one,” he said, sinking back into his seat.

  “Where’s it from?” she asked.

  “Flint Hills Rodeo, 2011,” Jed said.

  Jesse frowned, patently surprised. He turned to look at his brother.

  “How do you know that?” he asked, the words almost an accusation.

  “It was your first win. Sierra and Casey were crowing about it for weeks.”

  Jesse studied his brother for a long beat before looking away, but CJ could see Jed’s comment had thrown him.

  “You should wear the belt,” her father said suddenly, his fist hitting the table like a king delivering an edict. “Let everyone know how good you are.”

  “Listen to your father—he’s speaking good sense,” Jesse said, a teasing light in his eyes.

  The food arrived then, along with the champagne, and their booth got rowdy as people started proposing toasts.

  “To CJ, for being a superwoman.”

  “To Jesse, for taking defeat like a man.”

  There were more, many of which made CJ blush as well as laugh, but finally she was able to get a word in edgewise.

  “I want to propose a toast—to Sierra, for making sure that justice was done. Thank you for being my avenging angel.”

  The moment the words were out her mouth she realized her parents would want to know what they meant, which meant she’d have to tell them about Dean Maynard’s harassment, something she hadn’t intended to do. Sure enough, her mother piped up straight away.

  “Why would you need to be avenged?”

  CJ pressed her lips together, annoyed at herself, then happened to catch Jesse’s eye across the table. He lifted a shoulder, the movement barely noticeable, but she understood what he was saying: Tell them. It happened. They deserve to know.

  “I had a little trouble with one of the other riders,” CJ said.

  It took ten minutes for her to fill them in and another ten to talk her father out of hunting Dean Maynard down and “beating the living snot out of him.” Sierra finally convinced him to stand down when she described in vivid detail how his infamy would follow him from rodeo to rodeo.

  “He’s going to be the gross urine bully for the rest of his rodeo career,” she said, taking a self-satisfied sip from her champagne flute. “We don’t need to do anything else, just let his reputation drag him down.”

  “From your mouth to God’s ears,” CJ’s mom said.

  “So, CJ, you going home now, or heading off to the next rodeo?” Casey asked, and CJ wanted to kiss him for the deft change of subject.

  “Next rodeo’s in the wrong direction to make it worth going home, but I’ve always wanted to check out Glacier National Park, so I figured I’d sightsee a bit, then double back to Great Falls.”

  “So you’re going to be a rodeo bum like Jesse and follow the circuit around?” Sierra asked.

  “If I can make it work,” CJ said.

  “Should look into getting a trailer, make it cheaper to live on the road in the long run,” her father said thoughtfully, a change of tune so profound CJ nearly choked on her beer. Just last week he’d greeted every mention of the rodeo with stubborn silence, and now he was thinking about the most economical way for her to follow the circuit?

  “What?” her father said, but CJ simply smiled and shook her head.

  The conversation shifted to her father’s work as a farrier then, and Sierra started talking to her mom about flying. CJ glanced over her shoulder, looking for the sign for the restroom.

  “Need me to let you out?” Sierra asked, picking up on the action.

  “You’re a true gentleman,” CJ said, and Sierra wrinkled her nose at her as she slid out of the booth.

  “I think there’s enough testosterone in the Carmody family already, don’t you?”

  “Good point,” CJ said.

  CJ followed the signs to the ladies’ room and took care of business. It was only afterward that she caught sight of herself in the restroom mirror.

  “Good Lord.”

  Her cheeks were pink from all the champagne, her hair a kinked, rumpled mess after being in a ponytail half the day. There was dust from the arena on her boots and jeans. Her shirt was a wrinkled rag…

  Not exactly her best look.

  She started to finger-comb her hair into some kind of order, then paused. Exactly who was she trying to impress right now? Jesse?

  She turned away from her own stupid face, unhappy with the answer she saw in her eyes.

  Was she really such a slave to her hormones, even after his vote of no confidence?

  It’s probably just the champagne.

  It was as good an excuse as any, and she decided to believe it. For now, anyway.

  Then she pushed open the door to the ladies’ room and came to an abrupt halt when she saw Jesse was hovering in the dimly lit corridor.

  Waiting for her, unless she was wildly mistaken.

  “Hi,” she said.

  “Got a minute?”

  “Sure.” She crossed her arms over her chest, then realized she probably looked defensive or nervous and immediately uncrossed them.

  Jesse cleared his throat. “I should never have made that dumbass offer to withdraw, and I want you to know that even though it came across as though I didn’t think you could do it on your own, that wasn’t the way I meant it. I just…I wanted to make things right for you and…” He shrugged, apparently out of words. “I fucked up,” he said simply.

  She stared at him for a long moment, a little shaken by how relieved she was that he’d apologized and that he understood where she’d been coming from.

  When had this man’s opinion come to count for so much in her world?

  “Apology accepted,” she said. “For the record, while I appreciate the noble impulse, I don’t need to be rescued.”

  “Fuck, no,” he said.

  He sounded so vehement she couldn’t help but smile.

  “Then let’s just call it water under the bridge and move on.” She offered him her hand to shake on it.

  He hesitated a moment before sliding his hand into hers, the strength and roughness of his big hand triggering a hundred sense memories of his touch in the darkness. Memories that were strong enough to send a pleasurable shiver
down her spine.

  Just as well it was going to be a week before she saw him again. She needed the time and distance to get her head straight where he was concerned.

  Belatedly she realized she was still holding his hand.

  “I’d better get back to the table,” she said, slipping her hand free.

  “Sure thing.”

  Taking a step to one side, he let her pass. Somehow she stopped herself from looking back over her shoulder as she walked away.

  Chapter Thirteen

  She’d accepted his apology. The knowledge left Jesse feeling many pounds lighter as he made use of the facilities before following her back to the booth.

  He’d been worried she’d be so pissed off with him that she wouldn’t want to hear it, but she’d listened, her gaze never leaving his, and she’d taken only a moment to gather her thoughts before letting him know he was forgiven.

  He should have guessed she wouldn’t be a grudge keeper, or the kind of person who liked to stretch out misunderstandings to wring the maximum angst from them. CJ said what had to be said as honestly as possible, then put it behind her and moved on.

  As Sierra had said, CJ was good people.

  If she wasn’t his competitor, if she didn’t have so much to prove and so much to lose by being involved with him, it hit him that he’d be moving heaven and earth to make sure this weekend was not the end of them.

  But she was, so he was going to have to cowboy up and accept it like a man.

  It wasn’t going to be easy. Sitting in the booth, watching the light play on her pretty face and dark hair, listening to her laugh, he knew with absolute certainty that he was going to be nursing a crush on her for months to come. How could it be otherwise when every new thing he learned about her only made him like and admire her more?

  Like the way she interacted with her parents. It was obvious she had huge respect for both of them as well as a lot of love. But that didn’t mean she was above teasing both of them, particularly her father.

  Watching her rib him, he understood why she’d been so wounded by his failure to support her rodeo ambitions. They were clearly close, and he suspected she’d been a regular daddy’s girl growing up.