by Trejo, Erin
DIRTY COWBOY
Erin Trejo
Copyright © 2020 by Erin Trejo
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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Contents
Title
Cocky Hero World
Special thanks!
Prologue
Hope
1. Gentry
Hope
2. Gentry
Hope
3. Gentry
Hope
4. Gentry
Hope
5. Gentry
Hope
6. Gentry
Hope
7. Gentry
Hope
8. Gentry
Hope
9. Gentry
Hope
10. Gentry
Hope
11. Gentry
Hope
12. Gentry
Hope
13. Gentry
Hope
14. Gentry
Hope
15. Gentry
Hope
16. Gentry
Hope
17. Gentry
Epilogue
Hope
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Dirty Cowboy
By Erin Trejo
Edited By: Elfwerks Editing
Cover Design: Nicole Blanchard with IndieSage PR
Cover Model: Shawn Joseph
Photographer: Reggie Deanching
Dirty Cowboy is a standalone story inspired by Vi Keeland and Penelope Ward’s Mister Moneybags. It's published as part of the Cocky Hero Club world, a series of original works, written by various authors, and inspired by Keeland and Ward's New York Times bestselling series.
A special thank you:
This book is outside my normal genre. It challenged me in ways that I didn’t think it could. With that being said, I loved it all. A special thank you goes out to the amazing ladies that helped me along the way and encouraged me even when I doubted myself. In no particular order, Beverly Sheppard, Michele Del Rey, Courtnay Gray, Shelley Hanna, Liz Overby, Julie JA Lafrance, and Teresa Guthrie Lara. My readers mean everything to me, and when I needed a boost these ladies gave it. Love you ladies tons!
Prologue
Gentry
“I can barely hear you, son,” she says. I push through the crowded space and into my office quickly.
“That better?”
“Yes, much. Are you at work?”
“I am. What’s going on, Mom?” I know there’s a reason for her calling at this hour. She never calls this late unless it’s an emergency.
“It’s your dad.”
“What’s wrong with Pop? You said he was sick a couple weeks ago. Is he feeling worse?” There’s a sigh on the other end of the line. A sigh that I don’t like hearing. She called me a few weeks back to tell me he was sick and when I suggested I come home to help her out, she shot me down. She told me he was doing fine and until they knew more I should stay here in New York.
“Gentry, your dad passed away a few minutes ago.” Her sigh turns to tears that break me in two. I’m stunned.
“What?” I shake my head in disbelief. Dropping into my chair, the phone falls from my hand clattering onto the desk in front of me. He’s gone? He can’t be gone. My hearts being torn from my chest as I lean forward and rest my head in my hands. This can’t be happening. My pop is everything to me. He’s the reason I am who I am today. The reason I do what I do. He never wanted me to hang around that small town running a ranch. No, he had bigger hopes for me. He knew how much music and making people happy meant to me. I like to think that’s why he pushed me so hard to move on with the plans I had for the clubs.
Now that’s all gone. It’s been taken away from me in the blink of an eye and I wasn’t there for him. This is my fault. I should have been there for him. I should have been at his side, holding his hand. With a roar, I run my arm over my desk, swiping everything off and onto the floor. I don’t know if I’m hurt or angry. I don’t know if I should be pissed at my mom for downplaying his sickness or myself for not putting family first and just showing up. Shaking my head, I shove out of my chair and pick up my phone off the floor where it flew in my madness.
“Angela?” I rasp into the line when my assistant picks up her phone.
“Mr. Weston? Is everything alright?” I clear my throat.
“No. I need you to book me a flight to Arizona as soon as possible,” I inform her. I can hear her shifting around and I know it’s late, but I don’t think I can handle getting this together myself right now.
“I’ll email you the information.”
“Thanks, Angela.”
“Anytime, Mr. Weston,” she says before the line goes dead.
I close my eyes for a long second before dialing my friend, Dexter. Dexter Truitt is a high profiled business man himself. That’s how we met. It was accidental but turned out to be the best thing that happened to me. He helped me along in this business venture and has been a good friend ever since.
“It’s two in the morning, Weston. You better make this good,” he says groggily into the line. I can’t help but smirk a little.
“My Pop died. I’m going back to Arizona. I know you don’t need anything else on your plate right now but can you look after things while I’m gone? I don’t trust anyone else to do it.” I hear him curse under his breath before he answers.
“Of course. I’m sorry about your dad, Gentry. Let me know if I can do anything,” he adds.
“Thanks, Dex. I just need to get home and be with my mom right now.”
“I understand. Don’t worry about the clubs. I’ll handle business.”
“I appreciate it. I’ll owe you one,” I tell him as I grab my keys from the pile on the floor.
“You always owe me one.” The line goes dead as I slip the phone into my pocket and head out of my office. The music is blasting through the speakers, people are laughing and enjoying themselves.
“This was all you, Pop.”
Hope
“No, thank you, Myra. I couldn’t have finished this one without you,” I praise my friend before pulling her into a hug. Without her, my latest article wouldn’t have even been.
“Not a problem. If you need more just call me. I think Nick really liked you,” she coos wiggling her brows at me. I laugh.
“I hardly think that’s true but he was very nice and polite for being a rock star.”
“Nice and polite aren’t really two words I’d associate with Nick, but I’m glad he played nicely for your interview.”
“That’s because she was easy to play nicely with.” His voice thunders behind me causing me to jolt slightly. Turning my head to peek over my shoulder, he stands there stoically with a smirk on his face. His thin lips tug up at the corners a little more when he notices me looking.
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I say shyly.
“Good because that’s exactly what that was. It was my pleasure,” he says as his eyes travel up and down my body. My mouth drops open as he chuckles and walks past us. Myra laughs hysterically, but I don’t think it was all that funny.
“Stop that! Did you hear what he said to me?”
“He said it was a pleasure then eyed you up and down. Now, that is typical Nick. Don’t let him fool you. He’s smart, well educated, but he is the biggest douchebag out there,” she laughs a little more.
“Maybe I should add that to his interview then. Douchebag extraordinaire,” I say, waving my hand
through the air to make an emphasis.
“I warned you, Hope,” she says giving me a wink before walking away. I stuff my notebook down into my bag, turning on my heel as I walk toward the elevator. As soon as the doors open, I step in only to be crowded by someone. A hand wraps around my waist and just as I’m about to scream, his lips come to rest on my neck.
“Did you miss me?”
That voice I know. Dropping my head back onto Lance’s shoulder, I inhale his familiar scent.
“Always. What are you doing here?” I ask when he presses a kiss to my flesh. I spin around and capture his lips with mine as we ride the elevator down to the lobby.
“Wanted to surprise you. Did it work?” he asks when he pulls away and grabs my hand in his.
“It did. I thought you were working late tonight.” My heart jumps in my chest a little. Things between Lance and I have been awkward lately. We’ve been together for two years and I think we’re happy, but there’s just something that keeps nagging at the back of my mind when it comes to his late nights. I don’t think he’s cheating but what woman wants to believe that after they’ve been together as long as we have.
With our fingers intertwined, Lance leads us off the elevator and out into the lobby. He nods at a few people when I notice the woman glaring at him.
“Do you know her?” I ask leaning into him. He follows my gaze and shakes his head.
“No. Never seen her before in my life.”
“Are you sure? She’s staring you down,” I tell him as we walk through the lobby. He drops my hand almost immediately and storms from the building. My heels click on the floor as I chase behind him wondering what just happened.
“Lance?” He finally stops and turns to look at me.
“Are you trying to accuse me of something, Hope?”
I open my mouth but what do I say? The thought has crossed my mind, but being the coward that I am, I shake my head no.
“Of course not. I was only asking because she kept staring as if she knew you. I didn’t mean anything by it, Lance.” He shakes his head as I reach up and wrap my hand around the back of his neck. His eyes slowly fall to mine and the tension seems to slowly fade from his eyes. Lowering his head, he presses his lips to mine softly. His hand moves around my waist, resting on the small of my back.
“I’m sorry. It’s just been a long day.”
“Problems at work?”
He nods slowly before blowing out a breath. “I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. Forgive me?” He looks at me with those dark brown eyes and how could I not forgive him?
“Of course I do. Now, let’s go grab some dinner.” Just as we’re about to head toward the restaurant my phone rings.
1
Gentry
I hold my mom’s hand tightly as the preacher does his thing. I’m not knocking religion but I don’t see the purpose behind this charade. My dad was a good man. He was a rancher who loved his family and everyone around him. Having a preacher say it doesn’t make it any truer. Nevertheless, I know this is what my mom wanted so I go along with it. I keep my sunglasses pulled down over my face, my hat in place. Tears burn the back of my eyes but I keep them at bay. No sense in crying over things you can’t change, right? I know that sounds bad but that’s the way my pop raised me.
The service finally ends and a few of my mom’s friends walked her back to the waiting limo. Not me. I stand here looking at the black coffin that holds the man who raised me. The man who taught me how to be a man. My chest aches as I think about him not being here anymore. I can’t call to check in, I can’t come visit. He’s gone now.
“I’m sorry, Pop. I messed up when I didn’t come home. You always taught me that family comes first. I should have been here,” I whisper the words as I rest my hand on top of the coffin. I turn on my heel and walk toward the cars when a woman approaches me.
“I’m sorry about your dad,” she says wiping her eyes. I pull my glasses off and glare at her until I realize who she is.
“Hope Birch. Never thought I’d see you again,” I say as she watches me.
“Your mom called.” I nod my head. I bet she did. I glance around but I don’t see her mom or sister anywhere in sight which is the only way I figured I’d see Hope. “They couldn’t get a flight,” she adds pulling my attention back to her.
“I appreciate you coming.” She nods but doesn’t move to walk away. What is she waiting on? Our past is just that. The past. One I’d like to forget about.
“Can I walk with you? I’d like to say bye to your mom before I leave,” she says watching me curiously.
“Free country and all that,” I say with a smirk. She smiles and steps up next to me as we walk toward the limo.
“How have you been?”
“Aside from this? I’ve been good,” I tell her. “What about you? Didn’t think you came back here after you left high school.” And I would know. I waited for her to come back.
“Honestly, I haven’t. This is the first time since I left. Since my parents sold the ranch, I really had no reason.” Hope wasn’t born and raised here. Her mom brought her and her sister here when she wanted something different for her daughters. She bought the ranch next to ours when the girls were nine. Up until that point, they were raised by both their parents in New York. From what I heard things got a little intense between the two and Hope’s mom decided it would be best if they separated for a short time. I suppose it didn’t last all that long considering a few years later Brian, their dad moved down here with them. Maybe what my mom always says is true. The heart knows what it wants.
“California, right?” I ask glancing over at her. The girl I once loved and cared about.
“Yeah. It’s nice out there. Hot.”
Nodding my head, I look back toward the car when Hope stops me.
“I miss it. Being on a ranch.” I laugh at that, taking her by surprise. She stares up at me like I’ve grown two heads as I laugh. This isn’t the time for this but Hope just shocked me.
“You miss it? Since when? You hated it when we were kids. Hated everything about it.” Crossing my arms over my chest, I gaze at her.
“We had fun times! Remember when we made mud pies when we were younger?”
“Yeah, I remember. You smashed it in my face and then told all our friends I was too dumb to walk straight and fell.” She laughs so beautifully. Hell, she looks exceptional. I know it’s my pop’s funeral and I shouldn’t be thinking the way I am, but just looking at her perky tits has my dick rising from the dead. Down boy, she isn’t here for you.
“Yeah, sorry about that.”
“It was years ago,” I remind her.
“I’d still like to make it up to you.”
I smirk and huff out a laugh. “I got something you can make it up to,” I tease her. Her cheeks flush when I hear my mom calling me. Giving her a wink, I turn and walk over the waiting limo and climb in.
“Did you talk to her?” Mom asks while I nod.
“Yeah, a little. She wants to see you before she leaves,” I tell her as the car begins to move. I grab my mom’s hand in mine and give it a squeeze.
“She’s a good girl,” she whispers under her breath.
“I wouldn’t know. I don’t know her anymore.”
“The heart never changes, Gentry.”
“What does that mean?” Glancing over at her, she shrugs her shoulders and leans into my side.
“Just what I said.”
Hope
“I’m so glad you came, honey,” Betty, Gentry’s mom, says as she holds me closely to her.
“I’m glad I could make it, too. It was a beautiful service.”
“You are coming back, right?”
I pull away from her and hold her hands in mine. I stayed at the local motel for a few days when I first came into town, but now after the service it’s time for me to get back to California.
“I’m sure I will at some point. I have a lot of work to do,” I tell her, watching the sadness in her eye
s. I hate that it’s there. I also hate leaving her. My mom was friends with the Weston’s from the time she moved us down here until she decided it was time for another change. We grew up next door to each other from the time I was nine until I moved on after high school and just being here brings up all the old memories from my childhood. Gentry was right, and now that I see his grief, I feel bad for not caring more. The ranch wasn’t for me. When I was growing up, I hated it. I didn’t want to get dirty and herd the cattle. I wanted to wear dresses and high heels, lipstick, and such.
“Well, I’m glad you came anyhow,” she says, pulling one hand away to reach up and wipe her eyes. “Gentry can take you to the airport. He has to be back to work, too.”
“I can manage.”
“She said I’d take you. Stop being so damn stubborn.”
I see his southern drawl hasn’t lost its effect on people either. It didn’t matter how old you were, when Gentry spoke you listened. You couldn’t help it, he was magnetic.
“I’m not being stubborn,” I say placing my hands on my hips and glaring at him.
“Yeah, you are. Take that little librarian skirt and get in the truck.” He walks past me while my mouth hangs open, pressing a kiss to his mom’s cheek.