Chapter 15
Chloe
Your cowboy was the scowliest I’ve ever seen him this morning. What did you do to him?
James
He’s not my cowboy. He’s my boss.
Chloe
Maybe that’s the problem. The cowboy in the streets needs a little time being a beast in your sheets.
James
I’m not going to dignify that with a response.
Chloe
Dignity, schmigity. I’m beneath that.
How could I have been so wrong?
The man had needed a hug, not a mouth mauling. But I hadn’t been able to see that through my lust-fueled glasses. Worse, it hadn’t been only lust. I had thought we were having a moment. A connection. When really, he was having a moment with his dead ex-wife.
Humiliating.
So I did what I always did when life had the audacity to screw with me. I held my chin up and focused on the horses.
And I avoided Adam like the plague.
Which proved surprisingly easy for the first two days post kiss. He did his thing, I did mine. Hell, he probably thought he was the one avoiding me. For some reason, that annoyed me. What was he so afraid of? Did he think I was going to corner him in his office again and force him into round three of humiliating mouth encounters?
Now that I had determined Belle wasn’t truly opposed to riding, per se, I narrowed my focus to her tack, starting with the saddle. Plenty of horses were less than thrilled with having the girth cinched tight around their belly. Unfortunately, that was a safety concern for the rider, so it was non-negotiable.
But that didn’t mean we couldn’t make it more comfortable for her.
I examined Belle’s saddle carefully. It was in good shape, and I could tell the fit wasn’t the issue—it had been sized appropriately for her back and shape.
“Heard you managed to stay on Belle.”
I looked up from the saddle to see Steven leaning against the doorframe of the tack room, arms crossed. “You heard right.”
“We should celebrate. You ever been to the Painted Cat?”
I shook my head.
“It’s the good bar in town.”
“As opposed to the bad bar?” I asked.
He grinned. “Now, honey, I don’t think there’s any such thing as a bad bar. So long as there’s alcohol, I ain’t picky. But it does have the benefit of being within walking distance from my house.”
If that was an invitation, I wasn’t biting. I didn’t like being called honey. I probably shouldn’t like being called buttercup, either, but somehow that felt entirely different. I suspected it had to do with the man.
Steven was plenty good-looking. He had that whole tall, dark, and handsome thing nailed down. But he reminded me of a babbling brook. Lots of noise without a whole lot going on beneath the surface. He didn’t pull me in deeper.
Unlike a certain grumpy rancher.
Maybe I was misreading the situation with Steven. It wouldn’t be the first time this week I had thought a man was into me when his mind was somewhere else. Maybe he wasn’t asking for a date. Maybe he was arranging a group outing. I wouldn’t say no to that.
“What do you say? You and me? A date?” he said.
Well, that clarified things.
“That’s not a good idea. We work together. If you ever want to get a group together and go out as friends, I’d be down.” I hated rejecting anyone, but I had learned long ago that if you weren’t blunt and quick about it, you could end up accidentally dating a meh guy for three solid months.
Steven cocked an eyebrow. “There’s no rule against us dating, honey.”
Apparently, he wasn’t good at taking hints. Shocking. “I’m not interested in dating a co-worker,” I said firmly.
“Calm down. No need to go all me too.” He laughed like he truly believed he was funny and held up his hands as if pacifying a filly having a tantrum. “If you want a group thing, I can make that happen.”
I was already regretting leaving the door open for friendship. I stared at him, eyebrows raised.
“Tonight?” he prodded.
“Not tonight,” came a voice I had been avoiding for two days now. It could not be denied that I was happier than I ought to be to hear that voice again.
Steven fell forward into the room with a little help from Adam. He caught himself and sent an annoyed look behind him. “My mama always taught me to say excuse me.”
“And my mama taught me not to stand in doorways like a jackass.”
His words were for Steven, but his gaze was on me. Scowling, of course. It did things to me, that scowl. Unfeminist, horny things.
I tossed my ponytail and smiled like the tension in the room didn’t have my insides quivering. “Steven and I were just talking about getting a group together for drinks at the Painted Cat. You want to come?”
“Brax wants us at Colorado Springs for the rodeo this weekend. We’re leaving in an hour.” He ripped his gaze from me and narrowed it on Steven. “Don’t you have things to do?”
Steven slid out of the room, muttering something under his breath that I doubted was very friendly.
“I’ll go pack.” I moved toward the door, but Adam’s hand shot out and lassoed my wrist.
“Wait.” I looked up at him, but he kept his gaze on that connection—his hand, my wrist—like it was a lifeline. “Has Ben said anything to you? About…stuff?”
“Stuff?” I echoed. It didn’t take me long to figure out what he meant. “Do you mean Emily?”
His fingers spasmed on my wrist at the sound of her name. I hated that. Hated that she still had this power over him all these years later. Which was stupid. Why should I care if my boss was hung up on his deceased ex-wife? I had no business kissing him anyway. That was no way to earn the respect of my co-workers.
“Yeah. I figured he’d have questions after meeting Deacon, but he hasn’t said a word. I know you’re not his nanny, okay? I know that. It’s just that—”
“I’m his friend,” I cut in softly. Because it was true.
His gaze jerked to mine. He reflected for a beat and then his lips softened, and his forehead smoothed out. “Yeah. You’re his friend. So I figured, he might have talked to you about it. He didn’t talk to me.” His voice dipped gruffly on the admission.
I had zero parenting experience, but I had enough experience as a human being to know it didn’t feel great when the person you loved most in the world kept you at arm’s length. I also knew that box was still sitting unopened in Adam’s office. Men were such cowards when it came to feelings.
“Have you tried talking to him?” I asked. Gently, because men were also sensitive about their cowardice.
He rubbed his jaw. I took that as a no.
“He didn’t say anything to me about Deacon or his mom,” I said. “But he’s thinking about it. He’s seen the box in your office. It has her name on it. He’s waiting for you.”
“Dammit.” He sighed. “I was afraid of that.”
I hesitated, not wanting to overstep. “I’m not a parent—”
“Tell me what you think. I’ll take all the advice I can get. All I care about is making things good for Ben.”
God. The way this man loved his son would kick anyone’s ovaries into baby-making mode.
“It doesn’t have to be fraught, you know,” I said. “Tell him you haven’t had time to go through the pictures with him, but you’ll do it when you get back from the rodeo. It will buy you some time to think about what you want to say—which doesn’t have to be much, you know. A story or two about her from before he was born. Something sweet or silly.” I fully realized I was avoiding saying her name again. I didn’t want a repeat of the hand flinch. Men weren’t the only cowards, apparently.
He nodded slowly. “That’s good. I can do that.”
“Of course you can.”
“Okay. I’m going to find him and then pack.” He nodded again, like he was trying to convince himself. “Meet me at the big house in an hour?”
I had a lot of questions about our rodeo trip, but what I led with was “Just you and me?” Like that was the important part.
“Just you and me. Brax wants us out there, showing people who matter that you’re at Lodestar Ranch now. Networking.” He spat the word like it tasted bad. “He had business cards made for you. We have to swing by his office in town on the way out. He booked us rooms at the Marriot.”
“Okay.” I couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across my face. “I love rodeos. This will be great.”
“Yeah. Great,” he repeated flatly.
I cocked my head, taking him in. The purple halfmoons under his eyes. The heavy down-tilt of his mouth. The way his shoulders bunched up to his ears.
The man was tired. Exhausted.
It couldn’t be easy, running a ranch, being a single dad, and taking care of his own dad on top of all that. And then Deacon showing up three days ago with a box full of ugly memories? That had to keep him up at night. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be human.
A weekend rodeo probably seemed like one more thing he had to soldier through. I hated that for him. Sure, we were going there for work, but rodeos were fun! Only a week ago, he had told me he missed the fun of ranch work, the kind he used to have before his mom died. This was a chance for us to get away from the regular grind of barn chores and have a good time. And maybe, for Adam, to get some much-needed rest.
“How long is the drive?” I asked.
“Three hours.”
His lips were already forming the next words, but I got there first.
“I’ll drive.”