Curvy Girl and the Ex-Military Cowboy (Cedar Falls: Cowboys #2)

Chapter 1 - Aaron

I pace the length of my bedroom, boots wearing a path in the hardwood floor that's probably been there since my grandfather's time. My watch says she's due at the ranch in two hours, but I've been ready since dawn, unable to sleep, unable to sit still.

I haven't been this nervous since that night outside Fallujah, waiting for the signal to move in. At least then I knew what I was doing. I had training, experience, brothers-in-arms beside me. This? This is uncharted territory.

"This is insane," I mutter to myself, running a hand through my hair for probably the hundredth time today.

The mirror above my dresser reflects a stranger. I barely recognize myself in the crisp blue button-down and dark jeans. I've even polished my boots. For what? A woman I've never met, who I somehow convinced to come to Covington Ranch based on a few emails and video calls.

A mail order bride. The phrase itself makes me cringe a little.

Through the window, I catch sight of Vincent pushing his five-year-old daughter Lily on the tire swing by the old oak. His nanny—well, girlfriend now—Charlotte joins them, and Vincent pulls her close, planting a kiss on her forehead while Lily giggles. The scene twists something inside my chest.

They've been officially together for three weeks, although anyone with eyes could see it coming for the past two months. The way they look at each other, like they've found something precious and unexpected. The way they've become this little family unit that seems so natural, so right.

I turn away from the window, unable to watch anymore.

It's not that I begrudge Vincent his happiness. Hell, after Lily's mother abandoned them, they deserve some joy. But watching them has stirred up something I thought I'd buried deep after my discharge—loneliness. A wanting for something I never expected to need.

"Aaron Covington, mail-order groom," I say to the empty room, testing the words. They sound ridiculous.

On my nightstand sits my phone, the website still open where I finalized everything last month. Silver Star Brides, connecting lonely hearts across borders. It had seemed so practical at the time. I need a partner, not just a date. Someone committed to building something real. Someone who knows from the start what she's getting into with me—the ranch, my brothers, my... issues.

Elena, 28, from Europe. English teacher. Loves horses and wide-open spaces. Wants children someday. Her profile seemed like it was written just for me. During our video calls, she'd been considerate, intelligent, with a quiet strength behind her smile. There was none of the awkwardness I feel around women at the town bar or church socials. Just two adults making a practical arrangement.

But now that she's actually arriving today, I'm questioning everything.

I glance at my phone, tempted to call one of my brothers. But what would I say? Hey, so I ordered a wife online, and she's arriving today. Any advice?

Ethan would laugh himself stupid. Jackson would give me that disappointed older brother look. Cole would probably start planning some elaborate welcoming party that would mortify us both. And Vincent—well, Vincent might understand, but he's wrapped up in his own happiness right now.

The Covington Cowboys, that's what folks in town call us five brothers—the wild bunch who run the largest cattle ranch in the county. But I haven't felt like a cowboy in years, not since I traded my saddle for body armor and my lasso for an M4. Even now, two years after my discharge, I sometimes feel like I'm still in the desert, isolated and on high alert.

I stop pacing and sit heavily on the edge of my bed, dropping my head into my hands.

"What the hell am I doing?" I ask the empty room.

From downstairs, I hear the front door slam and Jackson's voice calling out. "Aaron! You still hiding up there?"

Great. Just what I need.

"I'm getting dressed," I lie, standing quickly.

"Well, hurry up! Cole needs help with the new bulls, and Ethan's making some fancy lunch for everybody!"

Lunch. With everybody. Today of all days.

I'd planned to meet Elena privately, give us both a chance to adjust before introducing her to the chaos that is my family. But of course, because this is Covington Ranch and privacy is a foreign concept, that plan is shot to hell.

My phone buzzes with a text. It's from the car service I hired to pick her up from the airport.

*Flight landed early. ETA to ranch: 30 minutes.*

My heart nearly stops. Thirty minutes. Not two hours.

I take a deep breath, the way I used to before missions. Assess the situation. Adapt. Execute.

This is happening. There's no backing out now.

And despite the nerves, despite the doubts swirling in my mind, there's something else there too. Hope. A quiet, cautious hope that maybe, just maybe, this crazy plan might work. That Elena and I might find in each other what Vincent and Charlotte found unexpectedly.

But I can't tell my brothers the truth. No way. Not yet. First, I need to know if Elena and I are truly a match, if this arrangement has any chance of becoming something real. Then I'll find a way to confess to my brothers that I essentially ordered a wife online like a package from Amazon.

I tuck my shirt in one final time, take a steadying breath, and head downstairs to face the firing squad.

The kitchen is as it always is—loud, chaotic, and smelling of whatever Ethan's decided to whip up today. As the youngest of us, Ethan somehow turned out to be the one with actual culinary skills. The rest of us can grill a steak, do some pasta or rice, and not much else.

"Well, look who finally decided to join the land of the living," Cole drawls from his perch at the counter, stealing what appears to be a carrot from Ethan's cutting board.

Ethan swats his hand away. "Touch my mise en place again and you're eating leftovers."

"Your what now?" Jackson asks, leaning against the refrigerator with his perpetual cup of coffee. As the oldest, he's somehow perfected the art of looking both amused and disapproving at all times.

"His fancy chef setup," Vincent translates, walking in from the back door with Lily on his shoulders. "Where's Charlotte?"

"She had to run into town for more art supplies," Ethan says. "Lily used all the glitter on what was supposed to be my weekly menu board."

Lily giggles proudly from her perch. "I made it pretty!"

I force myself to act normal, pouring a cup of coffee like it's any other Sunday. Like I don't have a woman arriving any minute who's expecting to be my future wife.

"You're dressed up," Jackson notes, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Going somewhere?"

"Just felt like it," I mutter, taking a sip of coffee that's strong enough to peel paint.

Ethan makes it that way on purpose; says it's the only way to keep a ranch running.

Cole smirks. "Hot date in town?"

If only they knew how close to the truth that was.

"Leave him alone," Vincent says, setting Lily down. "Maybe he's just tired of looking like he's auditioning for Yellowstone all the time."

"Says the man wearing what appears to be an actual bolo tie," I retort, grateful for the distraction.

Vincent adjusts said tie defensively. "Charlotte likes it."

"Charlotte likes you, there's a difference," Ethan says, stirring something that smells like heaven. "She'd probably like you in a clown costume."

The conversation dissolves into the usual brotherly ribbing, and I start to relax. Maybe this won't be so bad. Maybe I can slip away when Elena arrives and—

The distinct sound of tires on gravel cuts through my thoughts.

"Someone coming?" Jackson asks, immediately on alert. He's always been protective of our property, more so since taking over as head of the ranch after Dad passed.

I try to sound casual. “It might be a friend of mine stopping by.”

All four brothers turn to look at me simultaneously.

"A friend," Cole repeats slowly. "Of yours."

"Yes, I have friends," I snap, more defensive than I intended.

"Name three," Ethan challenges.

Before I can respond with the handful of Army buddies I keep in touch with, the doorbell rings. My heart lodges firmly in my throat.

"I'll get it," I say quickly, but Lily is already racing toward the door.

"I'll get it, Uncle Aaron!" she calls over her shoulder, her little cowboy boots clomping across the hardwood.

"Lily, wait—" Vincent starts, but she's already yanking open the heavy front door with the determination only a five-year-old can muster.

I follow quickly, painfully aware of all my brothers trailing behind me like some bizarre parade. And there she is.

Elena stands on our porch, looking exactly like her pictures but somehow completely different in real life. Her dark hair is pulled back in a simple ponytail, and she's wearing a modest blue dress that looks both professional and pretty. A small suitcase sits beside her, and she's clutching her purse like it might float away if she lets go.

When our eyes meet, I see a flash of panic that I'm sure mirrors my own. This is not how this was supposed to go.

"Hello," Lily announces grandly before any adult can speak. "I'm Lily Covington. Who are you?"

Elena's startled expression softens as she looks down at Lily. "Hello, Lily. I'm Elena." Her accent is subtle but present, her voice softer than I remember from our calls.

I step forward, trying to ignore the feeling of four pairs of curious eyes burning into my back.

"Elena, hi. Welcome to Covington Ranch."

She gives me a small smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. "Hello, Aaron. Thank you for having me."

I can practically feel the questions forming behind me.

"Aaron," Jackson says, stepping forward with his hand extended. "Care to introduce your... friend?"

I clear my throat. "Right. Everyone, this is Elena. She's, uh, an old friend. We haven't seen each other in a long time. Elena, these are my brothers—Jackson, Cole, Ethan, and Vincent. And you've met Lily."

Elena shakes Jackson's hand politely. "Hello. It's nice to meet you all."

"An old friend," Cole repeats, not bothering to hide his skepticism. "From where exactly?"

"We met... online," I say, which isn't technically a lie. "Through a... mutual friend."

"Online," Ethan echoes, left eyebrow arched.

Vincent, bless him, seems to sense my distress. "Well, any friend of Aaron's is welcome here. Are you staying in town?"

Elena glances at me, clearly uncertain how to answer.

"She's staying here," I say firmly. "In the guest room. For a while."

The silence that follows is deafening.

Jackson crosses his arms. "Well, isn't that interesting. Aaron's never mentioned you before, Elena."

"Aaron doesn't mention a lot of things," she responds quietly, and I have to suppress a smile at her quick thinking.

Lily tugs on Elena's dress. "Do you like horses? We have lots of horses."

Elena's expression softens again. "I do like horses, very much."

"Then you should stay forever," Lily declares with the absolute certainty of childhood.

I watch Elena's cheeks flush pink, and our eyes meet again over Lily's head. There's something there—uncertainty, yes, but also a quiet determination that matches my own. We're in this strange situation together now, for better or worse.

"Why don't we all go back inside?" Vincent suggests, gently pulling Lily back. "Ethan's making lunch, and I'm sure Elena would like to get settled."

As my brothers file back inside, with Lily chattering excitedly about showing Elena all the animals, I hang back for a moment.

"I'm sorry," I say quietly. "This isn't how I planned it."

Elena adjusts her purse strap, her eyes meeting mine directly for the first time. "It's okay. We knew it wouldn't be simple."

"They don't know," I add, unnecessarily. "About the... arrangement."

She nods once. "I gathered that. Don't worry, I won't say anything until you're ready."

"Welcome to Covington Ranch," I say again, more sincerely this time.

"Thank you," she replies, and I catch a glimpse of vulnerability beneath her composed exterior. "I hope I made the right choice, coming here."

That makes two of us, I think, holding the door open for her. She steps inside, into my home, into my life, and I follow her, closing the door behind us and wondering what the hell happens next.