by Melissa Keir
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
The Heartbroken Cowboy Blurb
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Epilogue
Check Out The Heartsong Cowboy
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Other Books by Melissa Keir
The Heartbroken Cowboy
Melissa Keir
The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, places, or events is coincidental and not intended by the author.
If you purchase this book without a cover you should be aware that this book may have been stolen property and reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher. In such case the author has not received any payment for this “stripped book.”
The Heartbroken Cowboy
The Cowboys of Whisper Colorado
Copyright © 2016 Melissa Keir
All rights reserved.
5764 Woodbine Ave.
Pinckney, MI 48169
Cover art By Shades of Rose Media
This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission. The copying, scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions, and do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
Love isn’t found at the bottom of a bottle…
Johnson O’Neill joined The Heartsong Ranch to escape his addiction. One night at a friend’s wedding, stress causes him to fall off the wagon and into the arms of the woman of his dreams.
Debra Donahue lost her husband to alcohol then pulled herself up by her bootstraps becoming a million-dollar selling real estate agent. One night with a sexy cowboy and a bottle of whiskey, Debra falls hard.
Can an alcoholic cowboy and a brokenhearted woman find love despite their fears? Or will the bottom of a bottle claim another happily ever after?
DEDICATION
To my friends who believed in me…
and to my family who supports me
no matter what!!
xoxo
CHAPTER ONE
“Weddings are a buzzkill.” A tall man wearing a tuxedo flopped down into the chair next to her, startling Debra Donahue who’d been silently tapping her foot to the music. Glad for the distraction from being single at a wedding, she smiled at the man.
“Most people use weddings as a reason to get their buzz on.” She studied him. The silver streaks in his hair flattered his chiseled jawline. His tugging at the neck of his shirt and the worn boots on his feet told her this man wasn’t used to big fancy shindigs. She smiled at his discomfort. Clothes make the man, and this one would be happier in jeans and a work shirt.
“I don’t drink, but could use a strong one, right now. Not this sissy stuff.” He lifted the glass to his lips, downed the contents, and shoved his now-empty champagne flute away before he leaned in toward her. The smell of alcohol on his breath hinted that he’d already had too much to drink. “Know anyone around here with some whiskey?” The dark sapphire of his eyes chilled her. This was a man used to getting what he wanted. “I’d even share.” His voice deepened and became husky with his offer and she shivered.
“I don’t drink with men I don’t know.” Debra stuck out her hand. “I’m Debra, and you are?”
The man grabbed another glass of champagne off a passing waiter’s tray and guzzled the drink in one swallow. “The name’s Johnson O’Neill. Now about that whiskey.” He reached out and drew her up to standing then tugged her in close to him. Wrapping his arm around her back, he moved her body in a slow two-step motion.
Debra gazed into his eyes. “You don’t have to seduce me for the whiskey.” She stepped out of his embrace and put her hands on her hips. She frowned.
“That’s not why I drew you into my arms. You were tapping your foot when I arrived—and I thought you might like a dance. A pretty woman like you shouldn’t be sitting alone.” He stretched his palm out again in a plea.
Not so sure, Debra shook her head before she reached out to him. A zing of hunger flew from his fingers to her hand then her shoulder. As she settled in close to his body, she felt him sigh. “I’m a friend of the bride and groom’s. I think they invited me to be nice, but you’re right. Being alone at the wedding was…what was the word you used?
“Buzzkill?”
“Yes, that’s it. I feel like a wheel on a pair of skis.”
Johnson’s gaze traveled from her toes to her head. She felt the heat of his gaze. Men didn’t usually come on to her. It wasn’t her appearance, but her attitude her husband used to say. Rattlesnake not fluffy bunny.
Scrambling out of her negative loop, she realized Johnson was talking to her. “You’re beautiful. I don’t know why you don’t have a man at your side. But his loss is my gain.” He once again pulled her into his strong arms and moved her leisurely around the dining tables in a slow dance. It didn’t matter what song was being played. He kept to the same gentle moves.
Debra loved the feel of him holding her. It’d been a while since she’d had any comfort. She’d kept everyone at a distance, needing to prove she could do it. “Flattery won’t get you anywhere either. I’ve sampled a few too many of the bride’s pastries to be considered beautiful.” She chuckled as his step faltered.
He lifted her chin and gazed into her eyes. “You’re too hard on yourself.” His fingers slid over her waist and down her hips, as if he was fitting her for a dress, before tugging her close again. “All that makes you sexier.”
She saw the truth in his eyes, felt the evidence in his pants, and blushed. “If you say so. I’ve learned to be wary about what someone wants.” Still not trusting what he wanted from her, she used her Realtor smile and decided to find out. After all, sex was out of the question. “You seem like a nice guy. So tell me what you’re doing in the monkey suit. This doesn’t seem like your element.”
“I’m Jake’s best man and his friend. But I don’t know why he decided that I needed to wear this god-awful suit.” Johnson tugged at the collar again, knocking his bow tie askew. “Torture, pure evil, torture.”
Debra had heard of Johnson around town. Everyone mentioned his skill with the horses, not his skill with the ladies. Deciding he was probably just being nice to a lonely woman, she relaxed and enjoyed the first physical contact she’d had in years. Would he even have approached me if he hadn’t been drunk? I hate alcohol, it makes people do things they wouldn’t normally. “You want torture? You should try panty hose and five-inch heels. Women understand all about torture.” Debra could have sworn a shadow crossed Johnson’s face with her words. She reached up to adjust his bow tie. “Here, let me fix this.” Her fingers brushed his neck. With their bodies this close, her breathing deepened and her panties dampened. “You’re handsome. So why are you here alone then? A good-looking guy like you should’ve had a million women begging to be your date.”
“The ex-wife soured me on women. Ask the bride…I’m not very nice.” He turned his head to hide the hurt in his eyes.
“I don’t believe it. Maybe we’ve both g
ot to work on trusting.” She sighed and laid her head on his shoulder as they continued to dance around the reception room. Debra could hear his heart beating and let herself enjoy the moment. She carried on an argument with herself. Why are you doing this? Alcohol? This cowboy? Take a chance. Don’t analyze, Debra. Mad at herself for wanting more…wanting the love that Jake and Angela found. I’m not going to make this into something big. It’s one night. “Let it go,” she mumbled.
“What did you say?”
“Nothing. Just talking to myself.”
“Talk to yourself often? You do know they say that’s a sign of crazy.” He chuckled and held her close.
She glared at him. “Make fun of me, will you?” Debra shoved against his chest. But he kept chuckling until he tripped her up. She felt that loss of control and fear of falling on her behind. So she latched onto those logs he called arms as his face loomed in. His kiss stole her breath. It was tender yet powerful. Take a chance, Debra. If alcohol is what it takes…?
When the music ended, she reluctantly stepped out of his embrace. “Let me get that whiskey, and we can get back to our trust issues.” She stomped toward the bartender, mad at herself and unsure of the passion this man aroused in her.
Johnson had forgotten all about the whiskey. When he saw the striking blonde in the black dress, he’d been compelled to approach her. She’s intoxicating. Wow, those legs. She might complain about the heels, but they make her look like a racetrack filly. He watched her lean toward the bartender and whisper to him. Her face lit up when the bartender leaned in and kissed her cheek. The sound of her laughter floated to his ears. A growl escaped Johnson’s throat. Now where did that come from? Feeling a little possessive of her already? Must be the monkey suit. Got my brain scrambled.
Debra sashayed back to him holding a bottle of amber liquid. He fixated on her hips and the tantalizing glimpse of the top of her thigh-high stockings through the high slit on her dress. He wiped at his chin to check for drool.
“All the bartender would let me have was this bottle of fire whiskey. He said it was a little stronger than the regular stuff but that no one would miss it.” She opened the top and took a swig from the bottle then set it down on the table. “Whew!” She grimaced as she swallowed and dropped into the chair. “Your turn.” A twinkle of dare lurked in her gaze.
Johnson dragged a chair close to her, grabbed the bottle from the table, sat down, and took a mouthful. He squeezed his eyes shut. They began to water as he swallowed. “Whew-ee. That stuff’s bound to kill you. I can feel it down to my boots.” He took another swallow. “Easier the second time. Here. Your turn.” He held the bottle toward Debra.
She lifted the bottle to her lips and took a big drink. “You’re right. Second time’s easy.” She took a third and a fourth drink before passing the bottle back to Johnson. “Sure keeps your toes toasty.” Debra giggled then snorted. Her face turned red as she slapped her hand over her lips. “Shush. Don’t you say a thing.”
He laughed at her silliness. “How come I’ve never seen you around the farm if you’re friends with Angela and Jake?” he demanded, needing to find something to distract him from those legs, hips, lips…naughty thoughts. Johnson eyed her over the rim of the bottle. Fire had begun to heat his belly. The whiskey or the woman next to him…he couldn’t be sure which was affecting him more.
“I already told you about my addiction to Angela’s pastries. I’m at Café French most mornings, and sometimes in the afternoon.” Debra’s laugh had him thinking about her and powdered sugar. “Actually, I helped Jake with the paperwork when he transferred the farm. I’m your local Realtor.” She stood and did a curtsey, a little unsteady on her feet.
Johnson stood up and lifted Debra into his arms. “You’re as light as a bird.”
“What are you doing?” She squealed. “Bird, my ass. Maybe an ostrich. I’ll break your back. Put me down.”
He pinched her rear, making her squeal again. “People are starting to stare. Wouldn’t want the small town gossips to speak about our best real estate agent.” He saw her glancing around in a panic. “I don’t like that you keep putting yourself down. Don’t say another bad thing about your body or else…”
“Or else what?” Her voice hitched. “Put me down. People will talk. You’ll ruin me.”
At the fear and anxiety in her voice, he set her back in her chair. However, it was that bottom lip, stuck out in a pout, that drew him in. He wanted to taste it. He licked his lips and took another swig of alcohol, letting the fire settle his desire. He’d been nursing a hard-on since he’d held her in his embrace. Darn thing was uncomfortable for sitting. “Fine. Let’s take our bottle for a stroll. We’ll avoid the prying eyes. But no more negative talk.” Johnson took another large swallow of whiskey.
They walked into the coatroom, where he helped Debra with her coat.
“Thank you. You’re a gentleman.” She linked her arm through his and grabbed the bottle, drinking down the last of the liquor. Debra wobbled on her heels.
“Are you okay? Do you need help?” She’d had enough to drink. He drew her into his side. Her head settled on his shoulder. “You’re a perfect fit.” Johnson put the empty on the top shelf of the coatroom. “We killed this pint.”
“Umm. You smell good.” Debra snuggled closer. They left the reception hall and headed out into the chilly air. The stars were bright in the dark night sky. A bench stood among shrubs sparkling with white lights. “I think the booze’s gone to my head.” Her giggle echoed in the quiet. “But I’m feeling great. Let’s dance some more.” She stepped out of his embrace and swayed her hips while singing the latest song by George Strait.
Johnson admired the way her body moved. He reached out, took her hand, and twirled her around before he tugged her close in his arms then dipped her backwards. He inhaled her scent and his gut tightened. She sighed. His cock twitched at the sound. I wonder what noises she’d make in bed. He danced her over to the bench then sat and hauled her onto his lap.
“I said you didn’t have to seduce me for the liquor. I’ve never done this type of thing before. I’d love to say it’s the alcohol talking, but I think it’s you.” She leaned in and gently kissed him.
“You’re playing with fire, and I’m not talking about the whiskey.” He bent his head to hers and nibbled on her bottom lip. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you senseless since I saw you tapping your feet.”
“I’m glad you took a chance.” She drew him in for another kiss. He ran his tongue along her lip, and her mouth opened. She softly touched his tongue with her own. Their tongues twined together, teasing and joining. Debra broke away and took a deep breath. He could feel her heart beating quickly. Her face tipped up, she ran her fingers through his hair. “Wow. I see you’ve had some practice with this.” Her eyes sparkled.
He laughed. “That’s the pot calling the kettle black. You’re miraculous. I’ve not felt this way before.” He reached up and tangled his fingers in her hair, inhaling her flowery scent. “I want nothing more than to sit here with you all night.”
“We can, but I might freeze to death before the night is over.” She smiled then reached up and loosened his bow tie. Her breath warmed his neck and she kissed it. “Even with the fire whiskey heating my body, I’m still chilled. But I like having your hot hands on me.” She caressed his shoulders through his monkey suit while her lips traveled along his jawline.
He waited impatiently for her mouth to reach his. When he couldn’t wait a moment more, he grabbed hold of her face and kissed her deeply. She wiggled on his lap, causing other things to demand attention, too. Her sighs were music to his ears as he continued to plunder her mouth, nibbling on her bottom lip and playing tongue twister. He stepped back for a breath. “I want you, Debra. Please say you do, too. I don’t want to make an ass of myself but I don’t want you regretting this later. You’ve been drinking.”
“I won’t regret it. I want you.” Her glassy eyes belayed her words, even with the pout on her face
.
Johnson kissed her deeply. “I want our first time to be memorable, not a quickie in the coat closet. You deserve better.” She started to speak, but he put his finger on her lips. “Wait….You’re a feast and I want to enjoy your body, your pleasure. We’ll have time. Give me your phone.”
She dug through her coat pocket and drew out a small black mobile phone. He grabbed it and entered his number. “Call me tomorrow. If you still feel the same, we’ll meet and finish what we started.” He quickly bent his lips to hers. “But if you don’t…I’ll understand. It was just the whiskey.” She clung to him as he handed back her cell then slipped it back in her pocket. “Let’s get you a ride home.”
Johnson tucked Debra back into her coat, helped her to her feet, and strode toward the entrance of the reception hall. A white limo waited at the curb. Johnson spoke to the driver then opened the back door for Debra.
“I won’t forget to call, Johnson, and I’ll prove that it’s not the whiskey.” A pout still marred her face.
“He’ll get you home safely.” Johnson bent into and kissed her again then gently shut the door and watched the hottest woman he’d met in a while ride away. He heard a crunch and glanced down, but, unable to see anything in the dark, he turned back toward the building.
CHAPTER TWO
Johnson O’Neill felt like a man ditched at the altar. When he’d awoken that morning, he’d checked his phone just as he’d done each hour of each day since he’d put Debra into the limo. It’d been three days. Everything seemed to irritate him. Rather than head to the ranch that morning, he would take a chance that Debra was at Café French. After all, hadn’t she spoken of her addiction to the sweet pastries? He’d tried to give her time to come to him, but patience wasn’t a virtue of his.