Sneak Peek - Rough Ride
If you enjoyed this book, you’re going to love this other Reverse Harem Romance from Cassie Cole: Rough Ride. You can click here to buy it , or keep reading for a special sneak peek!
Sophie
“The smell is definitely my least favorite part of this job.” Liz wrinkled her nose.
The scent of leather and hay drifted through the cool night air as Liz and I weaved between rows of dust-coated trailers, each one a temporary home for the cowboys participating in the Fort Worth Rodeo. Diesel trucks sat idling, their headlights casting long shadows across the gravel. Boots crunched against the dirt, spurs jingling with every step, and I caught glimpses of rodeo life in its rawest form—bronzed hands tightening saddle straps, a cowboy leaning against his rig tuning a guitar, a young rider brushing down his horse, whispering promises of a good run tomorrow. The glow of string lights outlined a makeshift corral, where a few horses shifted in the darkness, their tails swishing as if in time with the faint hum of country music spilling from an open trailer door.
I shifted my stack of fliers from one hand to the other and glanced sideways at Liz. “That’s your least favorite part? Not all the ogling?”
“I like the ogling.” We reached one trailer where a tan cowboy old enough to be my grandpa raised his wrinkled eyes to us. Liz’s voice became melodic with a thick country accent. “Howdy, cowboy! If you’re lookin’ for some fun between events, come down to Billy Bob’s!”
She handed the man a flier, but his eyes never left her cleavage. “Might do that.” I could feel his smile on us long after we continued along.
“I don’t know.” I looked down at my sleeveless plaid shirt tied at the waist to expose a few strategic inches of midriff, and the jean shorts that were a size too small. “This is my least favorite part of the job.”
“You should appreciate the stares more than me,” Liz insisted.
“I don’t mind that,” I said, which was the truth. I’d gotten used to being ogled for my bartending job. It came with the territory. I had learned to let the lustful stares of strangers roll off me like rain on a rain jacket.
I kept that metaphorical rain jacket on most of the time these days.
“It’s the outfit that I’m sick of,” I added. “My shorts are so far up my ass I can almost taste them.”
Liz barked a laugh that caused a female rider to glance up from brushing her piebald horse.
“I can ignore a little discomfort in exchange for feeling beautiful every time I leave the house,” Liz said.
I squinted over at her. “You have a newborn! And a two-year-old!”
“Exactly! I worked hard to get my body back to this.” She gestured down at herself. “I want it to be appreciated.”
“You have a husband, too!”
“He appreciates me properly, don’t worry,” Liz said with a wink. “And he doesn’t mind me being a little flirty at work. We need the tips. Do you have any idea how expensive daycare is?”
“I don’t know. A hundred bucks a week?”
Liz barked another laugh. “Stop joking around and guess.”
“That… was my guess. Is it more?”
“You’re an order of magnitude off. Every daycare place we’ve talked to is close to a thousand dollars a week.”
“Liz, oh my God!” I said in shock. “For that price, you should get a live-in nanny.”
“Absolutely not,” Liz immediately said. “I’ve read enough cheesy romance books to know what nannies really do during the day.”
“Cheesy romance novels aren’t real life,” I pointed out. “And Travis would never cheat on you.”
“Don’t care. No nannies.” She sighed. “But the point I was trying to make is that I need all the tip money I can get.”
We approached the next camp area, where two men—a brunette and a blond—were arguing. It wasn’t heated, but it looked like it might get worse in a few seconds. They were young, maybe in their twenties.
Suddenly, they realized we were watching. Both men turned to stare at us.
And they were gorgeous .
The stack of fliers slipped out of my hand and hit the ground, fluttering in all directions.
“Shit.”
I scrambled to pick up all the fliers, and suddenly the two men were on their hands and knees helping me. I muttered an apology, more embarrassed than anything.
“No worries, darlin’,” said the brunette. I would’ve told him that I wasn’t his darlin’ , but his face was warm and inviting, with brown eyes that showed a genuine kindness and lifetime of laughter. His strong jawline was covered in a bit of stubble, and his wide, easy smile made him seem like the kind of guy who always seemed ready to lend a hand or tell a joke.
The blond man extended a hand to help me up, which I took without thought. He was so beautiful I couldn’t not accept his help. He had sun-kissed, golden-blond hair that fell just short of his shoulders, and piercing blue eyes. From his square jaw to his chiseled cheekbones, he exuded that quintessential all-American charm that most cowboys tried to emulate. Except with him, it seemed genuine.
And the one thing that stuck out the most about him? He had maintained polite eye contact the entire time. Same for the guy he was arguing with. Neither of them had ogled me like everyone else tonight.
“Sorry we were raising our voices,” he said in the smoothest, sexiest Texas accent I’d ever heard. “Wouldn’t have done that in front of a lady.”
Liz cleared her throat behind me.
“Sorry. Ladies .” He tipped his hat.
“It’s okay,” I said, feeling flustered. “We’re handing out fliers for—”
“Ma’am,” the blond suddenly said with grave seriousness. “Forgive me for interrupting, but you have the most striking eyes I’ve ever seen. They’re bluer than a summer sky.”
The unexpected compliment, delivered in that irresistible accent, caused a thousand butterflies to take flight in my stomach. “Thanks.” His eyes were just as blue, but I didn’t know how to say so. I certainly couldn’t match the compliment he’d given.
“Please ignore Johnny’s nauseating way of flirting,” the brunette said. He removed his brown cowboy hat with a flourish and gave me a deep bow. “I’m Elijah, but I hope you’ll call me Eli. Unlike Johnny, I won’t bore you with frivolous compliments. Words can’t possibly describe your beauty.”
And then he took hold of my wrist and kissed the back of my hand, like a Victorian gentleman. Another excited shiver ran through my body.
“I’d love to buy you a drink,” Eli added.
That knocked me out of my stupor, and I fell back on the lines I had been repeating to all the other cowboys tonight. “Come on down to Billy Bob’s and I’ll serve you one. Tap beer is half off until midnight, seven days a week.”
He accepted the flier without releasing my gaze. “Wouldn’t miss it, darlin’.”
“See you there, Sky Eyes,” the blond man—Johnny—said with a tip of his tan cowboy hat.
As soon as we were a few feet away, I heard Eli say, “Intermission is over. As I was saying, your trailer is parked over the line.”
“By only seven inches!” Johnny replied.
“Buddy,” Eli chuckled, “I know all about seven inches. You’re over the line by a foot .”
Their argument trailed off as we walked away.
“Sky eyes,” I muttered. “That might be the cheesiest thing anyone has ever called me.”
“I thought it was cute!” Liz replied. “Also, those two couldn’t keep their eyes off you the entire time.”
“They weren’t ogling me,” I argued. “They were actually very polite.”
“That’s what I mean! Their gaze was locked onto your face the entire time! That’s how you know they really like you, and not just because your tits are out. Did you see Johnny’s biceps? Those veins were practically popping off the skin! And don’t get me started on the one who kissed your hand.”
“You’re married!” I reminded her.
“I’m not looking for me! I’m looking for you . You’ve been single for what, three months?”
“I don’t date rodeo guys.”
“Who’s talking about dating? I’m saying you should ride them like a mechanical bull.”
I rolled my eyes, but couldn’t help but laugh. “I don’t want to do that either. These cowboys always come into town, thinking their hot stuff, and then they go home when the rodeo is over.”
“Maybe they live closer,” Liz suggested.
“They had Colorado plates on their trailers.”
Liz turned and stabbed a finger in my direction. “Ah hah! So you were thinking about it!”
“I’m just observant. Stop reading into things.”
“Dating someone from another state might be good for you,” Liz went on. “You’re always talking about wanting to get out of Fort Worth, move to the countryside…”
“I don’t date rodeo guys!” I repeated.
We came to the next trailer, where a man wearing all black sat on a stool repairing a piece of leather with a pair of needle-nosed pliers. I felt my heart catch in my throat as he glanced up at us from beneath the brim of his wide black cowboy hat. He had dark, deep-set eyes that revealed both quiet strength and untold experience, and a crooked nose that suggested at least a dozen bar fights.
“Howdy!” Liz said cheerfully. “You look like a man who likes to drink. When you’re done repairing that saddle, you should come on down to Billy Bob’s. Tap beer’s half off!”
The man rose, removed his hat, and placed it on the stool. His dirty-blond hair was messy and tousled, long enough to frame his rugged face. He strode toward us like a panther, with a quiet air of danger. Not danger to us specifically, I thought, but to anyone who got in his way.
Even though Liz was the one who spoke, the man walked right up to me with intense eye contact. The scent of leather oil followed him like a cloud. He took one of my fliers without looking at it.
And in a voice like a Texas rockslide, he said, “All right.”
He returned to his work without another word. Liz and I hurried on.
“Now he might be worth breaking your rule about dating rodeo guys,” Liz said.
I couldn’t disagree with her.