COWBOY ROMANCE: Devon (Western Contemporary Alpha Male Bride Romance) (The Steele Brothers Book 2)

by Amanda Boone

  “All right, Grace,” Taylor teased. “Get out of here and go change some lives today. They’re going to love you,” she called down the hall after Chelsea as she hurried off into the real world. Fortunately, organization was Chelsea’s forte, so she had a list of all the magazine and newspaper offices in New York City that she had not yet been to organized by geographical location.

  With a deep breath and a smile on her face, Chelsea headed off in the direction of her first stop. Even though she had already been living in the city for a few months now, she still couldn’t get accustomed to the dirty looks she got when smiling or waving at strangers. It was not that people were unfriendly here; they were just a different type of friendly. Where she grew up she would get a dirty look for not smiling at someone on the street.

  Chelsea didn’t let any of that get to her though, because today was going to be the day to make it all worth it, all the stressing she had done over not finding a job in the past few months. Today she would find exactly what she’d come here for. The few blocks between her and her first stop blurred by due to all the excited thoughts running through her head. She took a deep breath, steadying herself, and opened the door to the first office building.

  “Yes?” the receptionist behind the dusty desk called without looking up from her computer.

  “Hello. My name is Chelsea. I was wondering if you were hiring. I’m a columnist and I was really hoping for a columnist position.” The words fell from her mouth so quickly that she was unable to stop rambling on. It was a nervous habit that she had never been keen on. “But I would be grateful for any positon at all. As I wrote in my resume, I have written many short stories and—”

  “We’re not hiring,” the receptionist interrupted.

  “Oh. Well, I understand. Maybe I could still leave my resume in case something opens up?”

  “Sure,” she snapped. Still not taking her eyes off her computer, she held her hand out for Chelsea to put her resume in.

  “Thank you. I really appreciate it.”

  “Mhmm.” With that Chelsea said goodbye and let herself out. It’s okay. You’ll get the next one! Pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose, she straightened her posture and continued on.

  “Hello!” she called as she entered the second office on her stop. Her foot caught on the lip of the threshold and sent her stumbling forward, spilling the papers in her hands all over the floor. Quickly Chelsea dropped to her hands and knees to gather them all back up. The young girl behind the front desk came running around it to help Chelsea. “Oh, thank you. That’s very sweet.” Chelsea took the papers from her and gave her a gracious smile. Although she was naturally clumsy and did things like this often, she couldn’t remember the last time she had been this embarrassed. She could have cried from humiliation.

  Trying to regain her composure, she said, “I was wondering if you had any job openings? I am a columnist, but I would love to apply for anything you have available.”

  “We don’t have any openings at the moment, unfortunately,” the secretary said with empathy in her voice.

  “Could I possibly leave a resume with you in case something were to open up?”

  “Yes…” Her voice was so hesitant that it made Chelsea think twice about leaving it there.

  “If it’s not okay, that’s fine as well. I just thought I would ask.”

  “It’s just…with the recession and all, we won’t have any new positions anytime soon. I don’t want to get your hopes up.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate your honesty.” With that she headed out the door and on to her next stop, hoping to forget how much of a fool she had made of herself.

  After getting through almost her entire list, Chelsea was beginning to feel down after being told by most of them that there were no openings for her, but she hadn’t given up hope quite yet. She had one last st0p, and she just knew this would be the one. Her entire life she had believed that fate would always give her exactly what she needed, and here it was: number seventeen on her list.

  Plastering a smile on her face, she made her way into the beautiful modern lobby. “Good afternoon,” a voice called from her left.

  “Hello!”

  “Is there something I may be able to help you with?”

  “I hope so,” Chelsea said cheerfully as she made her way to the front desk. “I was wondering if you were hiring.”

  “I’m sorry, sweetie,” the woman said with a thick jersey accent. “We’re not right now, and I don’t think we will be real soon.” Chelsea’s heart sank further and further with each word she said.

  “Would it be okay if I left a resume just in case?”

  “Of course!”

  Chelsea felt a small sense of relief; finally someone was willing to see her work. The woman reached under her desk and pulled out a large bin overflowing with papers. “You can add it to the pile.”

  Chelsea knew the woman didn’t mean for it to be malicious, but she felt like it was a stab in her chest, like it was a reminder that she was no different than the other hundreds of “writers” in this city. “Thank you,” Chelsea said softly. Trying her best to fight back the tears, she placed her resume among all the others and gave the receptionist a gracious smile.

  Once outside, Chelsea began to frantically search the streets around her for a neon sign. She needed a drink; actually she needed several drinks. Seeing an open sign flashing down the block, she quickly closed the space that stood between her and a glass of wine. The bar was empty with the exception of two men playing pool in dim lighting.

  “Can I have a chardonnay, sir?” she asked the bartender before she even sat down. With a quizzical look, he nodded and went to the back to get a bottle for her. She assumed that she wasn’t the type of girl he was accustomed to seeing in here.

  “Here you go, ma’am,” he said as he sat a half full glass of wine in front of her. By the way he said the word “ma’am,” she knew he was mocking her. She was just too upset to even care. “Literally can’t remember the last time someone ordered wine here.” He let out a laugh.

  “That would explain why the bottle is so dusty.” She gestured to the dust-covered bottle in his hand. By the shortness of her voice, he picked up the hint that she didn’t want to talk to him and that she wasn’t in the mood to be teased. Without another word he let her be.

  Cloaked by the dim lighting, Chelsea allowed the tears she had been holding back to finally fall. How could she have been so stupid? She’d picked up her entire life and moved halfway across the country for this? The thought of having to go crawling back home made her feel like even more of a failure.

  But that was it; she had applied at every single magazine or newspaper in the city and had gotten nowhere. At this point her bank account was running on fumes, and she knew she couldn’t make it through another month living this way. If she was going to be a waitress or a hostess, she might as well do it back home. She felt so stupid for truly believing she was someone different. In one swift motion she chugged down the rest of her wine and raised her glass to the bartender for another.

  “Whoa. Bad day?” a voice asked from beside her.

  “The worst,” she said without looking up from her empty glass. She saw someone out of the corner of her eye slide onto the barstool beside her.

  “Sorry to hear that. But you know what’s better to cure a bad day?”

  “What?” As she turned to face him, Chelsea caught her breath. He was absolutely gorgeous. He had a perfectly chiseled jawline that was beautifully accented by his scruff. His blond hair was messy, as if he had just rolled out of bed and into a photo shoot, but the thing that really made her heart skip was his eyes. He had the most breathtaking sky blue eyes that she had ever seen.

  “Tequila.”

  “What?” Chelsea asked, having already forgotten what they were talking about.

  “Tequila. It’s a cure for any bad day.” He let out a laugh, noticing how frazzled she was, which of course made her cheeks turn bright pink with
embarrassment. “Two shots of tequila,” he called to the bartender while holding up two fingers for emphasis.

  The bartender sat two shots in front of him, and he smoothly slid one to her. “Oh, no.” She laughed. “I’m not a tequila person.”

  “No one’s a tequila person.” He laughed. “But I’ve found that it’s the only thing that mends the things inside of you that need fixin’.”

  Chelsea looked up at him over the rim of her glasses and then back at the shot glass in front of her. “Why the hell not?” Picking it up, she tapped it against the glass in his hand, tapped it to the bar, and swallowed it down. “Oh God. Now I remember why I hate it.”

  “Come on. It burns so good.” He laughed at her as she wrinkled her nose in displeasure. “Ben.”

  Taking his extended hand, she shook it lightly in her own. “I’m Chelsea.”

  “So, Chelsea. Tell me. Why such a bad day?”

  “It’s stupid,” she said, taking another sip from her glass.

  “Can’t be that stupid if it’s bothering you this much.” She couldn’t believe that he genuinely seemed like he cared to hear what she had to say. Looking into his baby blue eyes, she felt an odd sense of peace and comfort. All the loneliness that she had been denying was bothering her seemed to fade away, even if only for a little while.

  “It’s just…I uprooted my entire life, and I have nothing to show for it.” Quickly Chelsea wiped a single tear as it slid down her cheek. Embarrassed, she fumbled through the rest of her story, trying to act as if it hadn’t happened. “I moved here because I thought it would better my chances of becoming a writer, but it didn’t. It just showed me I’m no different than anyone else.”

  “Ah, come on. Don’t say that.”

  “But it’s true. You should have seen the stack of resumes they had. There are literally hundreds of other people who are just as qualified as, if not more than, I am trying to get the same job.” Chelsea began to feel herself getting worked up all over again. Raising her hand for the bartender, she shouted, “Two more shots.”

  “Atta girl.” Ben laughed. “I’m telling ya, tequila is a cure-all for internal wounds. So where’d ya move here from?”

  “A small town in Kansas.” The bartender slid the two shots in front of them, and Chelsea slid him a twenty.

  “All right, Dorothy. Bottoms up.” His eyes danced with excitement as he teased her.

  “Very original.” Clinking their glasses together, they both swallowed the liquid in one gulp. Ben found himself laughing again at the way she wrinkled her nose in disgust as it went down. “Don’t make fun of me. I’m not a big drinker, okay? Give me a break.”

  “Then you’ve got some training to do. Two more.”

  “No, no! I do not need any more,” Chelsea protested.

  “Come on. One more.” Chelsea looked between him and the two shot glasses on the bar in front of them. “Don’t make me take both of them.” Already feeling slightly tipsy, Chelsea agreed reluctantly.

  “Fine, but this is the last one.”

  “Scouts honor,” Ben said, holding up his hand in surrender. After taking the shot, they were both in fits of laughter.

  “I’m glad I ran into you,” Chelsea said. “I needed some laughter today.”

  Ben showed his bright white teeth in a beautiful smile that melted Chelsea’s heart. “I’m glad I ran into you too. This isn’t normally the outcome of me talking to a girl in a bar.”

  The innocent look in her eyes made Ben find her even more attractive. She was so sweet. “What do you mean?”

  “Normally if I meet a girl in a bar, it isn’t long before we head to one of our houses.”

  “Oh…” Not knowing what to say, Chelsea let the rest of her sentence trail off.

  “Don’t get me wrong. That’s not all I care about. That’s just normally what girls come out to bars looking for.” Ben took in a deep, steady breath and let out a sigh. “But you’re different somehow, easier to talk to.”

  Chelsea took a long drink from her glass of wine and held it up for the bartender to see that it was empty. “Probably because I came here actually looking for a drink.”

  “Exactly. That’s what drew me to you. You weren’t flaunting yourself and begging for attention. Plus, I hate to see a pretty girl cry.”

  Her stomach fluttered. Did he just call her pretty? She knew it was probably the line he used with every girl. He seemed like the dangerous type of charmer, but she couldn’t help what she was feeling for him. She could feel her cheeks burning pink, which only got worse when she noticed he was watching her closely. “What?”

  “Nothin’. You’re just even cuter when you blush.”

  “Stop it! You’re going to make me blush even more,” she said, waving her hands in front of her face.

  “Okay, okay. I’ll change the subject.” He laughed. “Are you liking the city better than small-town Kansas?”

  “Um…that’s a hard question to answer. They’re just so different that they’re incomparable. Have you ever been to the Midwest?”

  “Nope, sure haven’t.”

  “Well, it’s much friendlier. Not that it isn’t here,” she said quickly, afraid she may offend him. “It’s just different. In my hometown you know everyone and everything about everyone. There is just such a huge sense of community that you can’t get in a city of this magnitude. Here people look at you funny if you smile at them on the street. Back home people look at you funny if you don’t.”

  Ben put his hand on top of hers, which was resting on her knee, and a chill went up her spine. “We’re not all like that, I promise. Just give it little time. You’ll love it here.” His voice was so strong and yet gentle all at the same time.

  “I think you’re right.” Suddenly aware of how long she had been staring into his eyes, she cleared her throat self-consciously. “If I don’t find someone who likes my work, then it won’t matter either way. I won’t be able to afford to live here, and I’ve kind of exhausted all of my options at this point.”

  “Does your boyfriend like your work?”

  Chelsea’s heart skipped a bit at his interest. “No boyfriend,” she said shyly.

  “Interesting.” She could hear his bad boy charm in every word that he spoke. She kept telling herself that this was how he got girls in bed and that he wasn’t truly interested in her. Although she knew better, she couldn’t help falling for him.

  “Is it?”

  “Yeah. That means I can do this…” Ben placed one hand gently on the side of her face and stared deep into her eyes. She caught her breath. Very slowly he leaned in and allowed his lips to ever so softly touch hers, but for only a moment before he pulled back, leaving her eager for more. “I’ve been wanting to do that since I saw you over here.”

  Her mind clouded by endorphins, Chelsea couldn’t form a sentence. She broke out in a goofy smile. “You’re so cute.” Ben’s voice was so confident and stern that for the first time in a long time, she actually believed that was true.

  “Thank you.” Her heart was beating so hard that she was sure he could hear it. It had been so long since a man had shown interest in her that she wasn’t quite sure what else to say. His eyes being so fixated on her made her uncomfortable in the most wonderful kind of way.

  The bartender cleared his throat, breaking the moment between them. He slid her a glass of wine and motioned for her to slide him the empty glass beside her. “Thank you,” Chelsea said. Once he left, she turned her attention back to Ben with a shy smile. “So, are you from here?”

  “I grew up in Harlem. Ma and I moved to Brooklyn after Dad left.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Nah, don’t be. Ma’s the strongest woman I’ve ever known. She always did everything she could to keep us living in a safe neighborhood and well taken care of. Anywhere that Dad couldn’t find us.”

  “Anywhere your dad couldn’t find you?” She was instantly embarrassed for prying. “I’m sorry. That is none of my business.”
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  Ben shook his head as he swallowed another drink of his beer. “Don’t be. He used to be a standup guy, but then we had money problems and he got more and more stressed. He turned to drugs to relax and ended up getting mixed up in some real bad stuff. That’s when he became abusive. Ma normally took the worst of it. She would always throw herself in front of me when he got mad.”

  He took a deep breath before he continued. “But then one night he got me real good on the chin, and when he fell asleep Ma packed both of us a bag. She took the emergency fund she had been saving and we never looked back. Every couple years he’d tried to find us, saying that we’d ruined his life. So Ma worked two jobs, sometimes three, to make sure we could always live in nice neighborhoods where the neighbors looked out for one another.”

  “Wow. She sounds like a great mom,” Chelsea said.

  “The best. What about your family?”

  She thought in silence for a moment as she tried to think of the best way to describe her home life.

  “Let’s see. My parents were high school sweethearts. They got married straight out of college and had me. Then two years later they had my little sister. My father is a preacher, so they’ve always been pretty strict on us.”

  Ben’s eyes doubled in size, and she thought he might spit out the beer he was drinking. “A preacher’s daughter? Ah, shit. I’m probably going to hell for liquirin’ you up and kissing you, huh?”

  She always hated sharing that part of her life with people, not because she was ashamed of her father by any means, but because it instantly made people see her differently. People automatically thought that meant she was uptight. “No, no.” Chelsea laughed, trying to make the situation lighter. “But you can imagine what a small-town preacher thought when I told him I was moving to New York City.”

  “He probably pictured you sitting in a bar with a biker,” he teased.

  “Exactly!” She laughed. “I think he was concerned that I would be corrupted by the fast-pace life, but I assured him it would take more than that for me to forget my morals.” She remembered back to the night she had told her parents her plan. Her father had told her that he didn’t think she was strong enough to handle the city. He didn’t think she would be able to make it, but she tried to convince herself that it was only because he was scared for her. She remembered how hard she had cried that night despite how much she’d tried to tell herself it was only because he cared about her.