Chapter Two
THORN
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FLORA ROWE.
What is it about Flora Rowe that has permanently entrapped me in a way I don’t understand? What is it about her that still makes my blood boil after all these years? And what is it about me that she tries her damnedest to pretend not to feel the same way?
“They teamed you up with frame freak Flora?” My younger brother’s lack of subtly borderlines obnoxious.
“Don’t be an asshole.” Although I know the request is impossible. He may have been born an asshole, but I love him regardless.
“I didn’t make up the name.”
“If it comes out of your mouth, it makes you an asshole.”
He grunts. “I guess I’d be grumpy too if I were forced to endure the boringness of all that is frame freak Flora for an entire weekend.”
“I wasn’t forced, Theo.”
“You sure as hell didn’t pick her.”
“Didn’t I?” I nod at Faye and Wilma, walking briskly in our direction with a play of success on their faces.
My brother must see it, too, because the smart-ass look on his face is quickly replaced by shock. “You didn’t.”
“I did.”
He hunches closer to me, and the smell of his thick cologne chokes me. I prefer the natural scent of the great outdoors, not some designer scent to fake it.
“You enlisted the Quylt sisters to snag frame freak Flora?” His disgusted reaction is what I expected from him. Hence the reason I didn’t involve him in the process.
I tilt my head at him. “Call her that one more time.”
“Fucking hell.” Theo yanks off his hat and runs his fingers through his medium-length dark waves. “She must have a pussy of gold.”
I’d clock him in the jaw if we weren’t in a fancy resort. My fist will probably meet his jaw the second we’re alone—just a reminder to treat women with more respect than he used to.
Still, the teenager in me agrees with him—pussy of gold. There were a lot of things I discovered and loved about Flora when we were young, but touching her, kissing her, stripping her clothes off, and making love was at the forefront of my head ten minutes ago when her breasts rubbed against me in her hurried rush to leave.
Shit.
My dick hardens.
I scold myself for my lack of control. But I’ve waited a helluva long time for this woman.
“That proved to be a little challenge.” Panting slightly, Faye exhales a deep breath. “Considering Rita wasn’t on board with fixing her niece up with likings of you.”
“The likings of him?” My brother stuffs the Stetson back on his head. “Has she met her niece? She might be bright as the sun, but she’s as strange as a moonflower.”
“Enough,” I growl; loud enough, we garner glances in our direction, including that of Flora.
Dammit, she’s gorgeous. She’s rid her glasses, but I’d love to see them highlighting her dazzling hazel eyes. Her hair is darker brown now and falls around her shoulder in loose curls. And that body—my cock twitches. Her dress teases curves for miles, and my fingers itch to travel every last inch. But first things first, having a conversation that doesn’t end in her resenting me.
I turn to my brother. “This ain’t damn high school. And I’d bet my ranch that comments like yours sent her packin’ in the first place.”
I have to bet ‘cause she sure as hell hadn’t told me she was leaving. She gave no warning before disappearing—no forwarding address or goodbye.
“From here forward, unless you have something constructive to say, you keep your fucking mouth shut. Are we understood?”
His jaw tightens like my father’s used to when he was ‘bout ready to blow a gasket—which was often. It often led to a hole in the wall or whatever material item was in his grasp, ending with a good beating.
I’ve long let the beef of our unstable upbringing go. My old man died way too young as a result of the angry life he lived. I sure wasn’t about to follow in his footsteps. He may have raised a couple of roughneck teens that the sheriff hauled in and out of jail multiple times a week, but after spending one summer with Flora, all that changed—I changed. Then she took off, and no amount of begging her aunts for an address to the college she’d enrolled in worked.
“What’s the plan here?” Theo says it just like our father.
He has no idea about the many traits they share. Including the fuck ‘em and leave ‘em attitude toward women.
“To woo her and marry her? Then what? You stayin’ in Rocky Ridge Creek or headin’ to the city at her heels.” He holds up his hands. “Those are constructive questions.”
He’s right. They are. But hell if I know the answer yet.
“I’ll get back to you on that.”
He gives an irritated huff and turns away. “I’ve got shit to do,” he grumbles. “And you’ve completely killed my mood.”
He stomps away, but the carpet absorbs the impact of his boots.
It’s better this way. I don’t need him hanging over me intentionally hindering my tactics—respectable tactics. I ain’t an asshole.
Plus, he’s clueless about anything that didn’t happen at the Walker ranch the summer he worked there and discovered his love for girls—or getting under their skirts. He’d been oblivious to the days I snuck off the ranch to find Flora and hike every path, in every thicket she dared to venture. The kids might’ve called her frame freak Flora because she always had a camera around her neck, lost in a different world than us. Still, maybe if my classmates had stopped spouting hurtful names and laughing for just a second, they’d have seen the unique way her lens focused on the world in its rawest form.
“This is our one and only shot.” Wilma’s eyes narrow sharply on me. Her grey eyebrows arch like the wings of a hawk. And I like how she says “our,” like someone is finally on my side.
“I only need one shot.” My gruff whisper holds the confidence I lack. The confidence I’d been brimming with until overhearing her masturbating success and the candy cane reference. And then envisioning her naked in the shower, the water drizzling over her breasts and beading at her nipples. Add her hands between her legs, rubbing—
Dammit, my cock is throbbing.
“It’s a big shot, and time’s a tickin’.” Faye taps her wrist, pretending she’s wearing a watch.
Right. I gotta focus.
“You’ve got one weekend to show her you’re not just whistlin’ Dixie and, instead, prove you’re in love with her.”
“It’s not my love I’ll have to work on. She knew my love the day she left. It’s proving to her that it’s safe to love me, and I won’t abandon her the way her father did to her mother. Or screw around the way Elmer does on her aunt.”
Wilma folds her arms over the front of her burgundy western shirt with flowers embroidered on the shoulders. “He won’t have a problem.”
“He might. My sister is trying to trade him off as we speak.” Dani Rowe joins our circle.
“You know?” I can’t hide my surprise.
“My aunt couldn’t have convinced her to come. She didn’t want to, to be honest. These two know exactly who needs to be involved.” Dani wraps one arm around Faye and the other around Wilma. “Right, ladies?”
“Oh, sweetie.” Faye lightly pats her cheeks. “Wait until your day comes.”
“No.” Dani’s smile drops. “We had an agreement. I help you lure my sister here, and you don’t play matchmakers with me. Ever.”
“When love calls, little one.” Wilma almost smirks.
“I hate you two. Sneaky little good for nothings.” Dani storms past me. “You better go make sure my sister doesn’t trade you for your brother. We all know he loves the chase.”
Aw, shit.
FLORA
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“JUST SWITCH THORN Slater with any other cowboy in the event.”
“Flora, we can’t just switch people around.” Mayor Thomas passes me a printout. “This is the sheet for the setup hours. Make sure if you’re the last one leaving, you lock up behind.”
“Thomas, I wouldn’t ordinarily ask, but—”
He hands me another sheet. “This has the wifi password and phone numbers for all us hosts if you need anything.”
“I need something right now.”
He ignores me to study the next pile in the line-up of stacks before him. Rocky Ridge Creek hasn’t caught up to email packages.
Another sheet is thrust my way. “This is a map of the room and pinpoints the booths designated for each month. You’re December. Your names and chosen month are in your booth space.”
My Aunt Rita clears her throat. “Listen, Thomas. We’re going to switch her cowboy.” Thank goodness someone is on my side.
“Food passes get you, Mr. Slater, and your assistant Dani inclusive meals. Don’t lose these.” Mayor Thomas hands me three pass cards on lanyards, and I want to throw them back at him. “Where is Thorn?”
“Here, sir.” The deep sound of his voice does all kinds of wonderful things to my insides.
“Thorn, is there a reason you’d like to be switched?” Why on God’s green earth is the mayor asking Thorn? He didn’t request the change. Typical.
“No, sir. I quite look forward to working with Miss Rowe.”
“That settles it.” Mayor Thomas smiles through his red cheeks. “Feel free to reach out if you need anything else or have issues. Next!”
“Thanks, Thomas,” I mutter, stepping out of the lineup.
My Aunt Rita meets me at the end of the table. “Here, you’ll need this.”
She unveils a hidden tap at the side of her purse and fills a plastic cup with a rich red liquid within seconds. I told you, she’s a drinker.
She slides the cup into my hand. “I think you’ve bargained for more than you realize. Drink up.” She tips the glass at my mouth, forcing a mouthful of spicy red wine down my throat. The velvety texture dances on my tongue and bursts with flavor.
“Thanks.” I barely swallow, and she’s trying to dump more. “That’s plenty. I have to drive to the town hall for decorations.”
“I’ll drive us in my pickup.” Every one of his words is smooth and warm, wrapping around me like a cozy wool blanket, perfect for chilly December evenings.
I hate that about his voice.
“Great,” I force out.
“Great.” His tone sounds upbeat.
“Take another sip, sweetheart.” My aunt tips the glass into my mouth again.
I swallow the hints of cinnamon and cloves before pushing the glass away. “Aunt Rita, I’m good.”
She dangles keys in my hand. “Watch out for this one. He has an ulterior motive.”
“I suspected as much.”
Thorn leans back on one leg in a sexy stance that I can’t ignore. Time has sculpted this cowboy into a timeless beauty. His boyish charm has been replaced with a commanding presence and a body honed by years of hard work.
He narrows his eyes on me. “I made my motives as clear as a blue sky.”
Is that what he thinks? Planning to make me fall in love with him? That’s not as clear as a blue sky.
“Let’s do a recap. Tell me, exactly what are your intentions this weekend?”
He takes one stride and stops straight in front of me. The delicious smell of woodsy cedar steals my breath. When his rough and calloused hand cups the side of my face, I don’t move away like I should—like my brain screams. His warmth pools into my skin. It feels like an eternity before he speaks. As we stand there, lost in each other’s eyes the way we used to down by the creek on a warm summer day, I could stay lost in his copper-colored eyes forever.
“I’ve missed you, Flora.” There he goes, being all sultry and sensual. “Have you missed me?”
Yes.
No.
A hard yes.
But a solid, hell no.
My lips part, but the lines I’ve practiced if I ever bumped into him again don’t come out.
“Every moment we’ve spent apart these past years has made me realize how much I miss you.”
I’ve played out this conversation in my head more times than I’d like to admit. None of the scenarios included him touching me. And absolutely all of them included my hand across his face. Yet, my hand remains firmly at my side, as foolish as all those days I spent with him.
“And the second I saw you in the elevator, it’s like the world stopped turnin’, and everything else faded away.”
I wish he’d take his hand off my cheek. All my body craves is for him to explore my body further.
“You’ve got this way of lightin’ up a space, and I can’t help but feel like I’m the luckiest cowboy alive just bein’ near you.”
“I’m not that same girl.” I’m thankful my tone carries a rough edge.
“I want to discover the woman you’ve become.”
I scoff and break our connection. That’s when a movement to my side catches my attention, and the room sinks in. The lineup of photographers and cowboys watching us, listening, and judging. The matchmakers are fully invested beside the entrance, and my sister holds onto our every word.
My eyes flicker back to his, and suddenly, his touch burns my skin with embarrassment. The very thing I didn’t want to happen is playing out in front of the gossipiest townsfolk and all eyes are on me.