Dirty-Talking Cowboy--A Kinky Spurs Novel

by Stacey Kennedy

  “Now all you gotta do is not fuck up being her knight in shining armor.” Nash grinned.

  Shep ignored the comment, glancing at Chase, ready to move this conversation along so he could get to spending more time with Emma. “You said on the phone earlier that you had something to discuss.”

  Chase frowned. “That, I’m afraid, isn’t as interesting as your pretty little woman in there.”

  Shep took a deeper look at his brothers now, reading the tension in the firm set of their mouths, and the stress he saw mirrored what weighed on his chest too. “Do I even want to know?” he muttered.

  Chase placed the truck into park and turned off the ignition. The rumble of the engine silenced. “Lee Schultz called today. He wants to meet.”

  The reminder of all that had happened recently slammed into Shep like a barbell being thrown at his chest. Two weeks ago, a heart attack claimed his father’s life. Shep had begun the nitty-gritty part of dealing with his father’s estate, but he’d been avoiding his father’s longtime accountant. “Did he say when he wants to meet?”

  “Tomorrow morning,” Nash reported. “It’s not negotiable. He says the estate needs to move ahead.”

  A wave of responsibility crashed into Shep, nearly drowning him. Blackshaw Cattle was the largest cattle company in Colorado. With the butchery shop in downtown River Rock on Main Street, and the thirty thousand acres of prime Colorado land for their large herd, Shep couldn’t put this off any longer. Steps needed to be taken to ensure the company survived.

  Chase seemed to understand the weight of such a task. “Would you like us to go with you?” he asked.

  Shep shook his head and reached for the grocery bag. “I’ll handle Schultz, and whatever else comes along with it.” His father’s death had been sudden and shocking, and Shep wasn’t sure anyone had recovered from the loss, least of all his mother, Jenny. “Besides, he’s right—we need to figure out how to move forward and what that will look like.”

  The biggest problem of all: No one in the Blackshaw family wanted to be the face of Blackshaw Cattle, least of all Shep. His company was thriving with the new government contract. Chase worked the cattle, along with the other Blackshaw cowboys, but he did so to save the funds to start his long-awaited construction company. As far as Shep knew, Chase estimated he’d launch his company in six months’ time. And as for Nash, he lacked the drive for business and preferred getting his hands dirty. His father had hoped someone would follow in his footsteps but that was Rick Blackshaw’s dream, not theirs.

  “I’ve been thinking about this,” Chase said, breaking the silence. “We can give controlling interest to Colin and let him run the show.” Colin Hadgart was a longtime friend of their father’s and a top-notch businessman. When their father stepped down as the CEO of Blackshaw Cattle, Colin took over running the company, though all major decisions had remained with their father. Colin mainly handled the day-to-day business.

  Shep agreed with a nod. “That might make the most sense, as long as Colin’s on board.”

  Nash nodded, and so did Chase.

  Shep understood their agreement. No one wanted the hassle of the company. His father had been a savvy businessman in his time and had built Blackshaw Cattle into a force to be reckoned with. The only farm that could possibly compete with Blackshaw Cattle was Irish Creek Ranch, which was owned by the Harrison family, and even they couldn’t touch what his father had created with the land passed down through generations of Blackshaw men.

  “You’ll let us know how the meeting goes?” Chase asked.

  Shep nodded, slapping his hand down against the open window. “Of course.”

  He took a step back from the truck, and as Chase turned on the ignition, Nash said, “So, this Emma . . .” He grinned. “You never did answer me. Do we get to meet her?”

  Shep frowned, wondering over his brother’s intentions. Nash could be a real pain in his ass. Shep wanted—no, needed—to learn more about the woman who shot him down then melted beneath his touch in front of an audience, and without any distractions. “Another time,” he finally answered. “She needs rest.”

  “Yeah, right,” Nash said with a snort. “Letting her rest is totally what’s on your mind now, brother.”

  Chase smirked. “Even I have a hard time believing that one.”

  So did Shep.

  * * *

  From the bathroom window, Emma caught a flash of a black truck leaving her driveway with BLACKSHAW CATTLE CO. written on the gate, but her attention swiftly focused onto the horse. He paced the fence, unsettled, and her heart twisted. Back and forth, he didn’t stop, not for a second. She sympathized with his unrest, feeling a little like that herself. Not quite sure what steps to take forward or where to go exactly. Her life had been planned from high school. She knew she’d live in New York City with her parents. She knew she would go into marketing. Those were facts, dreams she set out. Now those dreams seemed to belong to someone else. Who was she if she wasn’t Emma Monroe, Executive Creative Director? She moved to the mirror above the bathroom sink, staring at someone she didn’t even know anymore. She now had a farm of abused animals. One of which might possibly kill her.

  Where did she go so wrong?

  Jake Cadwell. A no-good man. That’s where.

  Now she had another man, even sexier than Jake, who made her react in all types of wicked ways, waiting on her to take her out for burgers.

  She sighed, shutting her eyes a moment. How did she keep ending up in these situations? She’d always been a good girl. She’d never had a one-night stand. She wanted love. Real love. Passionate love. Love like her Grams and Gramps had. But now wasn’t the time for love.

  First, Jake wrangled her heart.

  Now, Shep roped her body.

  Both had a similar effect. She still cared for Jake. She wanted to hate him but couldn’t seem to manage to do that. If she were being honest with herself, she wanted Shep to make her forget Jake altogether, but how unfair would that be to Shep?

  Maybe she needed to talk to a professional. There had to be a good therapist in River Rock.

  To avoid the looming pity party, she grabbed her damp towel off the bathroom tile floor and hung it onto the hook behind the door, then faced the bathroom’s brass door handle. Sure, she was dressed in a white lacy blouse and a pair of blue jeans, but she felt more exposed than ever. Shep had a way of making her forget that adding a guy into the mix right now was a terrible idea. She lifted her chin, determined to keep her head on straight. No more men. That’s where the trouble all began.

  She exited the bathroom, and the moment she reached the top of the staircase, she inhaled the scents of grease and meat, and her stomach rumbled. Confused, she slowly made her way down the grand white wooden staircase. Grams had lived in this house since she was a child, and she’d raised three children there. Even though the old farmhouse had some good history behind it, the interior paint was fresh, everything spotless, like it had always been. Pictures lined the staircase’s wall, showing off the quiet life Grams lived, surrounded by all her favorite animals. One black-and-white photograph was of her and Gramps on their wedding day. She only had twenty years of marriage with him. Emma knew for her grandmother that twenty years wasn’t nearly long enough.

  All the memories. All the love. Emma’s heart clenched. She missed Grams. Her absence was an empty hole in Emma’s chest that seemed to be growing bigger ever since Emma had gotten on the plane in New York City. Everyone had that one person who seemed to understand them more than anyone else. That was Grams. Her person.

  Emotion clawed at her throat as she stepped off the last stair. She padded along the worn hardwood floors toward the kitchen. Soon, she discovered Shep standing in front of the stove, the hand towel tucked over his shoulder. She stopped in the doorway, noting a pull to him, a draw of sorts making her want to get closer to him. Maybe she was needier because of everything that she’d lost. Grams. Her job. Her life in New York City. Regardless of why she felt so sucked i
n, she was also more confused than ever. “I take it we’re not going out for cheeseburgers,” she said.

  He glanced over his shoulder, grinned. “No one makes a better burger than me.”

  She laughed softly, captivated by that undeniable heat he exuded. Dangerous warmth. The kind of thing that made women drop their panties and lose their inhibitions. But that sensation lied. It was often faked. “I don’t think you understand the challenge you’re up against. I’ve had a burger in every state from the west to the east.”

  Shep winked. “You’ve never had mine, darlin’.”

  She got the feeling whatever he served up was totally mouthwateringly delicious. Those big strong hands seemed quite capable. His muscular body was meant for hard labor. Though with this guy, it was the power in the eyes making him stand out. The way he carried himself. His confidence wasn’t arrogance but seemed natural. Almost like if a person trusted him, he wouldn’t let them down. Problem was, she didn’t trust herself anymore. She’d thought Jake cared about her. How could she get that so wrong?

  She forced the thoughts from her mind and moved farther into the kitchen. “When did you get everything you needed to make burgers?” She was supposed to go shopping this morning after she’d done the morning feed. Before the devil horse decided otherwise.

  “I asked my brothers to do a grocery store run.” He gestured to the white kitchen chair.

  “Brothers?” She took a seat next to the head of the table.

  He nodded. “Nash is the youngest, then Chase, then me.”

  Sweet Jesus, that smooth sensual voice caused heat to flood between her thighs. She vividly remembered how incredible he sounded whispering in her ear when he’d roped her at the bar. She crossed her legs, squeezing them tight. “What do they do?”

  “Nash is a retired bull rider. Chase works for my father’s farm, Blackshaw Cattle.” He turned to the stove, flipping the burgers sizzling in the cast-iron pan. “I’d have grilled the burgers, but it seems Daisy wasn’t much for outdoor grilling.”

  “Grams was all about comfort food,” Emma agreed. “She doesn’t own a grill.”

  Shep flipped the burgers once more, then turned off the gas stove. “There’s some sweet tea in the fridge, if you wouldn’t mind grabbing that.”

  Emma set to fetching their drinks. By the time she had the glasses on the table, Shep had the burgers on the buns.

  “How do you like it, Emma?” Shep practically purred, all types of promise in his gaze.

  Heat pooled low in her belly that she couldn’t stop, even if she wanted to. “All the fixings, please.”

  “My kind of woman.” He winked again, then banged the palm of his hand against the glass ketchup bottle.

  Ignoring her damp panties, she returned the sweet tea to the fridge, while Shep finished up topping the burgers. Once he added the tomatoes onto the patties, he grabbed the plates and gestured down the hallway. “Why don’t we go sit out on the porch, keep an eye on that horse?”

  “Sure, sounds good.” She grabbed the glasses of sweet tea and followed him outside.

  Once on the porch, he waited until she placed the drinks down on the table in between the two rocking chairs before handing her the plate. She took her seat, watching the horse pace the fence, faster now. Even from here, she could see the sheen of sweat coating his dark coat. Her heart hurt for the horse. If only Grams were there, she’d know exactly what to do to calm him down.

  She reached for her burger, took a big bite, and her eyes shut as the smoky flavor exploded in her mouth.

  Right as she took her second bite, Shep said, “Tell me about this guy you left behind in New York City. What was his name?” He paused, then nodded. “Ah, yeah, Jake.”

  Before her mouth could drop open, she finished chewing and returned her burger to her plate, a cold unease spreading through her. “Please explain to me how you know about Jake? Because the way I’m looking at it, you’re either A, a stalker who went through my text messages to learn about him or B, I told you about Jake at some point during my accident and I will now proceed to die of horrible embarrassment.”

  Shep’s mouth twitched. “For curiosity’s sake, which of those would piss you off more?”

  She paused and considered. “B. Definitely B.”

  His brows shot up. “You’d rather I be a stalker?”

  “Yes.” She nodded, unashamed. “Because you would look like the idiot, not me.”

  He tossed his head back and gave a boisterous laugh. “I’d be more than happy, sweetheart, to take the blame for this, but I’m afraid the status of a stalker would cause too many problems professionally and personally for me.”

  She sighed, grabbed her burger, took a bite, and muttered, “Ugh, I told you about Jake.”

  “You did.”

  She couldn’t meet his eyes. God, she didn’t want anyone to know about Jake in River Rock. Wasn’t that the whole point of why she hadn’t gone home yet? She wasn’t ready to face that particular crappy music. Avoiding the shitty direction her life had taken had been working for these past three weeks. She simply needed to stick to that plan.

  A sudden tap on her forearm made her lift her head. Shep slid the strength of his touch across her forearm, drawing all her attention to the heat flooding her where his fingers grazed her flesh. It had to be a gift of his. Usually looks and personality attracted her, but Shep had this powerful energy pulsating out of him and rushing over her like erotic fire, puckering her nipples tight, causing her sex to dampen with need.

  He lifted an eyebrow and gave her a firm look. “Whatever you’re thinking, stop it. What you told me will never be repeated by me. Was Jake a married man?”

  “God, no.” She gasped, so very aware that he was still touching her.

  “Did you both go on a murderous rampage?”

  She laughed softly. “No.”

  “Then you have nothing to feel bad for.”

  Oh, how easy it would be to trust him.

  Slowly, like he didn’t want to, Shep removed his hand and dug back into his burger, so she did the same and moved past her embarrassment. “I’m glad to hear you say that you’ll keep Jake private,” she said. “I really want to forget him altogether.”

  Shep chewed a moment, then swallowed and asked, “What happened with him?”

  She wanted to sink down into her chair and vanish. Instead, she faced this head-on. Who knew what she told him while she was high on morphine? “What have I told you already?”

  “Not much, except that you”—he made quotation marks with his fingers—“‘banged’ the CEO, which was a huge mistake, then moved out here to River Rock.”

  She cringed. “I said ‘banged’?”

  He smiled and nodded.

  She exhaled her mortification and ate a small bite of her burger before addressing him. “Honestly, there isn’t much more to tell you beyond that. Jake’s the CEO of Cadwell Advertising, the company I worked for in New York City. It’s a prestigious ad agency that holds the accounts of some of the top Fortune 500 companies.”

  “So, he’s a big deal?” Shep asked with a grin.

  She took that to mean that maybe she had said that about Jake. Or even worse, she had said that about herself. Moving on . . . “Yes, he’s a very big deal in the advertising world. The biggest deal, in fact.”

  Shep didn’t seem to give that much thought. He took another bite of his burger, then asked with a full mouth, “You dated him?”

  “Dated?” She sighed deeply. “I mean, sort of, kind of.”

  “You slept with him, then?”

  That wasn’t right either. She shrugged. “I’d say we were somewhere in between dating and having a causal relationship.”

  Shep frowned, chewing. “I don’t follow,” he eventually said.

  She hesitated, wondering if she should even bother explaining. She didn’t know Shep at all. Fuck it, she’d already told him everything anyway. At least she could put herself in a better light. She ate another piece of her burger, p
ausing for a time to collect herself. “Because Jake was the CEO of the company, he wanted to be careful of our relationship. He was so careful that I had to sign a nondisclosure agreement saying that I wouldn’t ever disclose we’d been intimate. And yes, I realize that should have raised all the red flags, but it hadn’t.”

  “Why?”

  “As the CEO of a large company, dating an employee can be complicated,” she explained. “I understood that, and since we weren’t serious, we never dated out in public.”

  “Ever?”

  “Never. We always had dinner at our homes, or he took me away on a private plane somewhere.”

  “Sounds fancy.”

  She nodded, sucking the ketchup off her thumb. “It was incredibly fancy.” The sting in her heart reminded her that none of it was real, however. “We were together for a year, and I was happy.”

  “Then what went wrong?”

  She stared out at the horse, her mind bringing her back to when everything fell apart.

  Tears blurred Emma’s vision as the elevator raced up to the top floor. When the doors opened, she strode along the hallway lined with offices, feeling every set of eyes on her in an odd sort of way. Too examining. Too judgmental. When she rounded the corner, she heard Jake’s voice, and she stopped at the harshness in his tone. She needed him to be her hero today. News of Grams’s death had come only minutes ago, and she was on her way to tell Jake that she had to leave for the funeral. But he had trouble on his plate too. They’d been caught kissing in his office, and news of their affair had spread like wildfire through the building. And now office gossip had become whispers that Emma’s promotion fourteen months ago came from screwing the boss.

  She stopped just outside his large corner office when she heard, “Be honest with me, Jake, did you give Emma the promotion because you’re fucking her?” She recognized the voice as John, VP of Cadwell Advertising.

  “Of course not,” Jake said, a harsh bite to his low voice. “She got the promotion because she’s damn good at her job.”

  There was movement in the office, but Emma stood, silently shaking, as John added, “Still, we should transfer her to another location to avoid this getting out there more than it already has. The last thing we want is the board thinking you’re giving your mistresses promotions.”