Rough Ride with the Grumpy Cowboy (Wrangler Creek: The Bad Boys of Iron Stallion Ranch #1)

PROLOGUE

— AVA —

“I like you.” I blurt out, professing a decade-long crush.

Zane’s dark eyes widen in surprise, caught off guard—and I don’t blame him. A love confession is the last thing he expected, but it’s not like I planned it either.

I’m about to get on stage to debut my career as a pop artist, but the moment he showed up carrying a bouquet of my favorite flowers—jasmines mixed with baby’s breath—I couldn’t hold it in anymore.

I’ve had a crush on Zane Morgan since before I even knew what having a crush was. He’s ten years older than me and also my best friend’s brother, so admitting that I have feelings for him is scary. But tonight is a big night of firsts and doing scary things, so why not?

I’ve been brave enough to tell him how I feel, and now the rest is up to him. I turn to Ella, my best friend, who encouraged me to confess in the first place, and she gives me a thumbs up.

After the initial shock wears off, Zane’s eyes soften and he opens his mouth to answer me. This is it—either a rejection or the beginning of an epic love story between us.

He lifts his hand and stretches it out toward me, exposing his tattooed arm. Hope blooms in my chest from the small smile playing at the corner of his lips. Just as he’s about to make contact, I’m yanked back, causing me to nearly lose my footing.

“T-minus five minutes before you have to be on stage,” Lou, my mother’s assistant, informs me.

“Lou, I’m in the middle of something,” I scold angrily.

“It can wait. We need to get you mic’d up,” she decrees, leaving no room for argument, just as two men from the technical team materialize out of nowhere.

I turn to Zane helplessly. He winks back at me. Is that a good or bad wink? I need to know if he shares the same feelings as me. My internal turmoil is interrupted when my mother joins us in the dressing room.

“Carino, you look wonderful,” she compliments, holding me at arm’s length and making me twirl around for her.

“Thanks, mamá.”

Thoughts of my confession to Zane are cast aside as I catch my reflection in one of the multiple mirrors.

The girl staring back at me is the farthest thing from my usual self.

My makeup is too heavy, I have highlights in my dark curls to add volume and a few red strands for personality—as mother proudly decreed—and my clothes are definitely not my usual jeans and tee comfort wear.

I feel naked, and I basically am, in a bedazzled bodysuit with a long tulle train attached at the waist and hot pink knee-length boots.

“Remember, tonight is our big night. We cannot let anything go wrong,” my mother asserts, pulling me from my thoughts.

From the day Mom discovered I could sing when I was three years old, she has been working toward this moment.

Seventeen years later, I’m about to realize that dream—for her, for me, for us.

Even though we have Hector, my stepfather, and Estevan, my stepbrother now, she still worked so hard to raise me as a single mother after my father died before I was born. I’m not going to let her down.

“The show is sold out, arena packed to the brim, so smile, shake it off, and be ready to deliver the performance of a lifetime,” she demands.

“Yes, mamá.”

She stands aside to let me finish getting mic’d up, and the whole time, I’m looking at Zane, whose eyes are fixed on me. By the time they’re done, there’s no time left to talk to him.

“I have to go on stage now. Wait for me,” I plead with him.

He surprises me by leaning in and kissing the corner of my mouth. My breath hitches when his lips brush against my ear. “I’ll be here. Good luck out there, Miss Diva. Break a leg.”

His words and that small kiss are the fuel I need to have an epic debut and deliver the best possible performance, knowing that Zane is waiting for me.

Two hours and thirty minutes later, my set is done, the crowd is happy, and I cannot get off the stage fast enough.

“You waited,” I sigh in relief when I find Zane still waiting backstage.

“I told you I would.”

Unable to resist, I launch myself at him. He chuckles and hugs me back, holding me close. He smells so good; my whole body instantly reacts to him being here.

I pull back, the biggest smile on my face, as I take a moment to take him in.

His mere presence knocks the breath out of me, reminding me once again why I have the biggest crush on him.

He looks so out of place—dangerously rugged, ripped in all the right places, with a chiseled jaw that could slice cheese, towering over everyone with his 6‘3“ frame.

His cowboy hat hides a messy bed of dark brown hair, casting a shadow over his handsome face.

“You were amazing, Ava. Definitely lived up to being Miss Diva,” he compliments with a thick Southern drawl, his accent thicker than mine, making parts of me react to him.

“You watched me?” I ask, knowing he’s not a huge fan of pop songs.

This man right here is a typical cowboy through and through, including his music tastes.

“How could I not when I had the best seat in the house?”

His words make me blush harder, so I decide to switch topics before I melt to the floor. “Where are my mom and Ella?” I inquire, surprised that they’re not all over me.

“They already left for the after-party, and I was tasked with being your chauffeur to the hotel,” he explains.

Yes! Alone time with Zane—count me in.

“Sounds like a plan. Let me get changed really quick,” I request.

He nods at me, and I quickly detach myself from him to take a quick shower and change into more comfortable clothes.

On the way out, I run into a couple of my fans, so I take time to sign a few autographs and take pictures with them. After I’m done, Zane and I are escorted to his car by security, and I’m all smiles the whole time.

As happy as I am to have him here with me, I’m also incredibly happy about tonight’s success. I love making music, I love my fans, and I’m glad that Ava Noa was finally able to have her big moment on stage—one that will hopefully propel her to an incredible music career.

Speaking of careers... How could I be so selfish?

“How was your competition today?” I ask Zane.

“I won,” he beams at me.

Zane is a professional bull rider, currently ranked eighth-best in the world, but after today’s win, his ranking must have gone higher.

“And?” I prompt him.

“I now rank third in the world and will be competing for the world title next week,” he explains.

“That’s amazing. I’m very proud of you, Zane,” I praise.

“Thank you.”

I lean over the center console and kiss his cheek. I mean it to be an innocent congratulatory peck, but it somehow elevates the tension in the car to something electric. Zane stills, his dark molten eyes meeting my fiery green ones.

He doesn’t need to say the words; his eyes speak volumes, giving me the answer that I need.

“Fuck it,” he groans before he turns off the car, undoes his seatbelt, and leans over, slamming his lips against mine.

The moment our lips meet, I’m done for. His lips are soft, molding against my own perfectly. His tongue crashes fiercely against mine, his cologne giving me a heady feeling so that all my senses are completely filled by him.

He unfastens my seatbelt as well, his hand automatically going to my bare thighs since my skirt has ridden up, exposing me completely. I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him closer to me, kissing him harder.

This is everything I imagined my first kiss with Zane to be and so much more.

He’s such a good kisser that I find myself wanting more. I cup his face and deepen the kiss further so it’s like we’re both trying to swallow each other whole. I’ve never been kissed like this before, but I like it very much.

I feel Zane try to pull away, but I hold on tighter. Eventually he manages to pry me off and get me to look into his eyes.

“More,” I beg, feeling more turned on than I’ve ever felt in my life.

“Baby, wait. I really want this too, but I don’t want to fuck you in a rental car,” he expresses, looking at me with hooded eyes.

He’s horny too; he wants me as much as I want him, but he’s holding back.

“But I want this. I want you. Feel,” I moan, taking his hand and directing it to the juncture between my legs.

I didn’t put on any panties—not because I was waiting for something to happen, but I needed to feel free after all the constricting clothes I wore all night.

“Fuck, you’re wet,” he cusses as he runs his finger over my slit, making me mewl in pleasure.

It feels so good that I can’t help but close my eyes and bask in the feeling. His thumb pressed against my clit, and all that leaves my lips is a strangled sound.

“You are perfect. I can’t fuck you, but I can make you come,” he says, his voice husky as he starts rubbing my clit furiously, turning me into a blubbering, moaning mess.

“Zane, please,” I beg, unaware of what I’m asking for.

“My name sounds so sexy coming from your lips,” he groans.

I spread my legs wider, letting him do as he pleases.

He captures my lips in a deep kiss, stealing my breath before trailing his mouth down to my neck.

He sucks on it while rubbing my clit at the same time.

He adds teeth, and I realize that he’s leaving a hickey.

I don’t stop him but instead give in to the feeling.

After a while, he pulls back to admire his handiwork, a smile gracing his lips, proud of what he’s done.

He resumes the trail from my neck to my chest and lower until he reaches my breasts.

He doesn’t hesitate, wrapping his lips around my nipple and teasing it with gentle bites over my flimsy top.

I want to take it off and feel his lips on my bare skin, but I’m too far gone to bother.

My moans get louder and harsher as I feel my orgasm getting closer and closer. My whole body is overcome with pleasure, and Zane can tell I’m close.

“Come for me,” he grits out his command, and I can feel his eyes on me even if my own are closed.

He increases his pace to just the right tempo and tugs at my nipple with his teeth. I come apart in one long spurt, screaming his name as I hold his hand down to stop him from rubbing me any further. My whole body is trembling as I gasp for air, my pussy still clenched around his fingers.

I open my eyes and find him looking at me with a teasing smile. He pulls his fingers out of me and puts them in his mouth while still looking at me. My eyes widen in shock—I didn’t expect him to do that.

“You taste divine,” he says after licking every single drop from his fingers.

“Are you real? Did that just happen?” I choke out in disbelief, even though I can still feel my vagina throbbing in evidence.

“I’m real, baby,” he smirks, pecking my lips before pulling back, putting on his seatbelt, and starting the car once more.

I do the same and settle down in my seat.

As we drive through the beautiful city of Austin, I can’t help but think about how different my night has turned out. This is more than I bargained for, but I’m not complaining.

“Tell me I’m not dreaming,” I ask Zane, turning to him when we stop at a red light.

“You are wide awake, Miss Diva,” he replies, lifting my hand to his lips and kissing the back of it.

The light turns green and he drives on. Unfortunately, those are the last words I hear from Zane before our world flips upside down.

A truck appears as if pulled from thin air, a blur of metal slamming into us from Zane’s side.

The impact hurls us sideways. I scream—or I think I do—but it’s lost in the chaos.

The car spins once, twice, and all I can hear is the grind of metal and the high, keening noise of something breaking.

Maybe the axle, maybe the sky, maybe us.

When we stop, it’s quiet. Too quiet. Except for the hiss of the engine and the tick, tick, tick of something dripping. Smoke curls up from the hood. I taste blood in my mouth, copper and bitter. Then I see him.

Zane is slumped forward, his body twisted at an angle that turns my stomach.

“Zane,” I whisper. My fingers shake as I reach for him. “Zane, hey—hey.”

He groans, barely.

His face is pale, jaw clenched against the pain, and when he turns toward me, there’s something in his eyes I’ve never seen before. Fear. Real fear.

“Ava,” he rasps, reaching out to touch me, but he’s trapped.

Just when I think it’s all over, a loud explosion turns the world around us into nothing but total darkness.