Bronc Riders Don’t Fall in Love (Kissing Ridge Cowboys #4)

Chapter 1

one

Diamond

If my dad can manifest a tomato the size of his head, I sure as hell can manifest the man of my dreams.

How hard can it be to send a wish to the universe for a cowboy hunk on horseback to arrive in Kissing Ridge and sweep me off my feet?

A real one, too. Not just a wannabe cowboy.

I’ve had my fair share of those. I want an honest-to-god cowboy with strong hands and a true heart.

Someone who treats me like a precious gift.

Surely, that’s not too much to ask?

“Are you sure you don’t want some of this?” Dad asks as he slices the very tomato he’s been dreaming about for weeks. Seriously, it’s a damn tomato, and you’d think he’d just won the lottery.

“Yeah, Dad. Thanks, though. You enjoy it.”

He returns to his task of slicing the mammoth tomato for his sandwich, and I scroll through my Instagram feed of hot-as-hell cowboys.

Not like Kissing Ridge has a shortage of them.

In fact, there are many I’ve had an eye on over the years.

Sadly, every single one of them was straight, taken, or too close a friend.

My finger pauses on a photo from last year’s National Rodeo Championship. A bronc rider with a stare that could melt asphalt and promised to wreck any heart in his path.

Rhett Cuglietta. The sexiest cowboy on this side of the Rocky Mountains. It’s a shame he hasn’t made a stop in Kissing Ridge yet.

With a sigh, I save the image to my growing folder of fave cowboy pics and briefly wonder if now is the time for me to consider taking my best friend Levi up on his offer to travel to a rodeo with him.

I bet he’d know which rodeos Rhett could be at.

That feels a wee stalkerish, but I’m fairly certain Rhett is meant to be mine, so wouldn’t that make it kismet or something?

“Have you ever tried a fried tomato, Dee? I hear they’re good.”

Someone please take away my dad’s cooking channel.

“Can’t say that I have, Dad. You try it and let me know.”

My dad hums as he rattles around in the kitchen, and I return to manifesting Rhett via my version of a Ouija board: Pinterest. A cowboy-themed wedding vision board seems appropriate here.

If I include sex toys, that might be too much.

Or would it? How does one conjure a living cowboy without going overboard about it?

My phone rings, pulling me from my fantasy wedding outfit and debating the pros and cons of vibrating butt plugs on a honeymoon. Something tells me a guy like Rhett might not be into that, but I’m not one to lack optimism.

“Dee! Are you sitting down? I have huge news that you’re gonna love!”

Levi has been my best friend since we met at a rodeo function and discovered we worked better as friends than anything else. If anyone knows something I’ll love, it’s him.

“I’m listening.”

“I was just at the training barn and overheard Hunter talking about the rodeo school and staffing.”

Levi’s breath comes in spurts, like he’s trying so hard to form sentences and speak at a normal volume.

“Oh? Did something happen?”

“Ohmygod Dee.” The dam breaks, and Levi gushes out the rest, unable to hold his excitement back. “A champion bronc rider is coming to teach and ride the western circuit!”

Sitting up, I grip the phone and press it to my ear.

“Is his name Rhett?”

His excitement drops a little. “How did you know that? I was hoping to surprise you.”

“Are you serious? His name is Rhett? The same guy who won the National Championship last year with a record-breaking ride?” Okay, I’ve stalked him for a while and know some of his stats. I’m thorough with my obsessions.

“Yeah, I’m serious. Hunter said Rhett is on full time to help manage things, mentor bronc riders and join the circuit with them. Well, with us since me and Hunter are the ones who do the travelling now. But like…I get to hang out and compete with two fucking rodeo champions, Dee! This is my life!”

Levi’s laughter is excited and exuberant. I’m stunned as he chatters away in my ear. He’s happy for the career aspects, and I’m definitely happy for him about that, but…did my wish to the universe actually get answered?

I rarely remain quiet. In fact, it’s almost as rare as Dad’s giant tomato. It’s not for a lack of words either. There are just too many to come out, and I don’t know which ones to say first.

“Are you doing that thing where your mouth moves and you don’t talk?” Levi laughs over the phone again, and I finally find my voice.

“Do you know what this means?” I flop back against the sofa, finally relaxing the death grip I have on my phone. “Ouija Pinterest worked. Holy shit.”

“Ouija Pinterest?”

I don’t expect him to understand. Heck, most days I barely understand the things I come up with.

“You know what? I’ll explain it later. But this is very welcome news.”

“He’s totally your type, Dee. That’s why I called you.”

“You’re not my best friend for nothing.”

“I’m your best friend because we know too much about each other.”

He has a point.

“True, but also because I love you like a brother.”

A brother I kissed once, and after we both stepped away and acknowledged there wasn’t a spark, we bonded over horses, hot men, and my baking creations.

I turn my head towards the kitchen when my dad starts singing ‘That’s amore’ before biting into his sandwich. “My dad is in love with a giant tomato, Levi. It’s been a day.”

“Aww, your dad is awesome. Go try the tomato. I should get back to practice anyway. But I’ll let you know more when I can.”

“Thanks, Levi. I’ll see you later for Scrabble?

“You bet!”

After we say our goodbyes, I join my dad in the kitchen to see why he’s singing to a sandwich.

He dances across the kitchen in the way only dads can. It’s lame but amusing with his sandwich, and honestly, if anyone needs to find a partner, it’s him. He’s singing and dancing with a sandwich for god sakes. I love him, but there are limits.

“Dad…”

“Try it, son. I promise it’s so good. Like sex but edible.”

“Dad.” I raise an eyebrow in warning. We can only compare sweets to sex in this house. He slices off a piece of the fleshy tomato and sprinkles a tiny amount of salt on it, motioning for me to try it.

I prefer my tomatoes accompanied by bacon, but I try it for him anyway.

“Wow,” I say as I chew. “This is great, Dad. Is it one of Jackson’s?”

Jackson is a former steer wrestler who owns a hydroponic greenhouse in town. He’s mostly known for his strawberries, but he’s been branching out to other things.

“It is.” Dad beams. “It’s called a sweet William. After me.”

My dad blushes a little, and it’s sweet that he’s thrilled he has a tomato named after him.

“I’ll leave you to your tomato then. I’m heading into the coffee shop. There’s a new recipe I want to try.”

“Make sure you let me taste test.”

“I will.”

After grabbing my keys and stowing my phone and tablet in my bag, I skip down the porch steps, whistling the wedding march. I didn’t get to where I am today by sitting on my ass and waiting for things to happen.

No. Diamond Ward pursues and gets what he wants.

And I want Rhett Cuglietta.

“For me?”

Jamieson grins as I place the slice of blueberry pie in front of him. “Just for you. Blueberries aren’t in season, but I saw these at the grocery store and thought it would make you happy.”

“You can’t be sad eating blueberries.” He immediately brings a forkful to his mouth and wiggles in his seat. “It’s amazing, as always. Thank you, Dee. You spoil me.”

That’s true. I spoil all my friends, but Jamieson is easy to please and I love to bake. I could feed him blueberry paste on a shoe and he’d be happy.

“How come you’re here alone? Is Griff working?

” Jamieson’s husband is a social worker at the addiction facility nearby, and with Jamieson working as a high school teacher now, they don’t always show up with the rodeo gang.

Although Jamieson still works in the summers at the rodeo school with Hunter, it’s not quite the same when he’s here as a former bull rider instead of a current one.

He misses riding. That much is clear, but he’s smart enough to not sacrifice his body for too much longer. Secretly, I think he wants kids and to horse around with them without needing painkillers every night. Leaving a sport behind because of injury has to be hard, but Jamieson makes it look easy.

“He’s out with his dad right now. He’ll be at Scrabble night, though.”

Our random game nights at Hunter and Gabe’s playing Scrabble was something we all fell into by accident one night here.

Hunter, of course, had to challenge me with a word puzzle.

When I beat him, handily I might add, it led to a marathon game of Scrabble at his place.

The others all dropped in and before long, it was a fairly regular thing when schedules allowed for it.

“I’m trying a new dessert to bring to the next gathering. Figured I should try something a little more flashy. Something to really grab your attention, you know?”

Jamieson has inhaled the slice of pie while we’ve talked and sits back in his chair at my coffee shop and bakery, The Thirsty Cow.

“Why?”

“Why, what?”

Jamieson wags a finger at me. “Don’t do that. You know what I’m asking. Why are you changing things when we all love your brownies?”

“Can’t a guy bring some variety to his friends’ taste buds? Why always have the same thing?”

Jamieson smirks, like he caught me in a lie, and in a way, he sort of did.

“This is about that new bronc rider coming; Rhett, isn’t it?”

“Oh, there’s a new cowboy coming? That’s exciting.”

I feign interest and wipe down the table nearby.

Jamieson laughs at my attempt to be uninterested, but one thing about Jamieson is he’s very observant with me and the food I make.

“You wouldn’t change what you bring for no reason. You make the apple thing for Gabe on special occasions. Blueberries for me in the summer and brownies. It’s always the gooey brownies. You just gave me pie and I’m not aware of any special occasion tonight. Which means….”

Jamieson can sometimes be oblivious, but never stupid.

“I don’t even know if he’ll be there, Jamieson.” I sigh.

“Me neither.”

He raises his eyebrow, inviting me to elaborate, and I cave.

“Is it so wrong to want to impress the guy?” I take a seat across from Jamieson and lower my voice.

“He’s like…the cowboy version of Michelangelo’s David.

Or…I don’t really know art, but he’s a work of art. He’s all dark and broody and hot.”

Jamieson laughs softly.

“I guess you have a type, then.”

“Have you met him?”

Jamieson shakes his head. “Not enough to judge him or anything. He stopped by once on his way home from a rodeo to meet with Hunter when I was there. He said hello.” He shrugs.

“I don’t know about impressing people with food, Dee.

Being yourself is good enough for me. I appreciate the pie, but you’re great without it. ”

He’s such a sweetheart, and I love him to pieces.

“My charming personality might not work without a side of molten lava cupcakes. Better to be prepared.”

“Diamond,” Jamieson chastises in his soft voice. “You don’t need food to make people like you. Don’t stress. He’ll like you.”

“I know that, but a backup plan never hurts. Few people resist my charms, but I need to be ready.” I wink at Jamieson as he shakes his head. “Chocolate is a solid wingman.”

“Everyone needs your energy, Dee,” Jamieson chuckles. “I won’t deny that.”

“Thank you. I like to think I bring sun to people’s lives with good food and better company. Call it my life’s work, if you will.”

Behind the scenes, that life’s work is a little more complicated, but he doesn’t need to know that. Jamieson is the only one who comes close to matching my energy most days. I’d like him to stay that way.

A large group of people burst through the doors of The Thirsty Cow, and I pat Jamieson on the shoulder. “I’ve got sunshine to spread and caffeine habits to feed, Jay. I’ll see you later.”

Striding away from Jamieson, I smile at the fresh faces in my place of business and do what I do best. Flirt and make a wicked latte.

The group is charming enough. All of them are out-of-town businessmen who heard of The Thirsty Cow and the cute blond man with amazing legs who owns the place. Flattery will get you everywhere. There isn’t a compliment I won’t accept with a smile.

They’re a respectful group, but don’t hide the way they enjoy the view of my ass and legs from behind.

The latte machine is like a mirror, and I catch most of their perusal, unknown to them.

Do I dress in snug-fit jean shorts and cowboy boots for attention?

Of course I do, and I always like it. Knowing men still desire me is the one thing my brain needs to keep functioning.

I don’t always have to go home with them. I just need to know they wouldn’t mind it if I did.

“Well, I’m flattered you heard such kind words about me and The Thirsty Cow. I hope it lives up to the hype.” Sliding the last maple latte to the remaining man, he leans over the counter and gently grabs my wrist.

“You’re better than described, Diamond. If you don’t mind me being so forward…you’re stunningly beautiful.” The man’s gaze drops to my lips before returning to my face. “You know we’re here overnight if you wanted to show us more of your hospitality.”

The man’s voice is low, and there’s no mistaking what he’s asking me for. It’s not the first time, and it won’t be the last. While it’s the confirmation I always crave, it’s not the man I want the invitation from.

“I appreciate that, but I have plans, Sug.”

He relaxes his grip and steps back with a nod. “Our loss then.” He raises his cup. “Thank you for the experience, Diamond. Have a day as beautiful as you.” The man lingers for a beat before leaving to join the others already outside.

His words make me smile, though, and I appreciate that.

My thoughts turn back to Rhett and the cupcakes I’ve baked until I created the perfect one that might impress him.

Dad gave them a thumbs up, but what if the dark and broody cowboy doesn’t like chocolate? Is that even possible?

If so, I’m willing to overlook it.

True love can overlook flaws like that, after all.

He’ll love them. Now I just need to meet him.