Chapter Six
W ith a plan for how to deal with her tagalong cowboy firmly established in her mind, Peyton leaned back against the booth seat and prepared to devour the delicious-looking sandwich Meg had just set in front of her. The oversized sandwich was nestled next to crispy fries in a classic red basket lined with red and white checked paper. Perfect.
Drew said, “Thank you, Meg.”
“Anytime, Drew.” She winked at him. To Peyton, she said, “Enjoy.”
“Thank you, Meg.” She watched the waitress leave, but the luscious smell of thinly sliced corned beef, sauerkraut, melty swiss cheese, and drippy Thousand Island between toasted light and dark rye swirled bread made her mouth water and claimed her attention. She glanced up at Drew and found him watching her. She told herself the hungry look on his face was inspired by the sandwich sitting on the table in front of him.
“Just wait until you taste it.”
She grinned. “It certainly looks and smells good. Especially since I didn’t have breakfast this morning.”
“Then dig in.” He picked up half of his sandwich but just held it, continuing to watch her.
“You don’t have to tell me twice.” Having grown up with three hovering older brothers, one thing Peyton did not have trouble with was eating in front of guys. First, she mashed the overstuffed sandwich with the palm of her hand so she had at least some hope of fitting it into her mouth, then picked up half.
“Nice technique.” Drew chuckled.
Peyton paused. The deep rumble was a nice sound.
She forced her attention back to the sandwich, taking her first bite. She was pretty sure her eyes rolled back in her head from the deliciousness, and she totally didn’t care that dressing was running down her chin.
This time Drew laughed out loud, and the sound did funny things inside her chest.
“Right?”
“Mmm,” was all she could manage.
Then she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. Her first instinct was to ignore it. Nat must have noticed Peyton had slipped out of the boutique. But she most definitely would have noticed the absence of a certain tall cowboy, and if she put two and two together, she might decide to come looking for them with camera crew in tow. Maybe Peyton had better check her phone. If it was her father, or any other member of her fussy family, she’d call them back later.
With a ridiculous amount of reluctance, Peyton set her sandwich half back in the basket and grabbed for a napkin off the pile Meg had also left.
Drew paused in taking a bite, his stunning eyes intent on her every move.
Still chewing, she gave him a dismissive, everything’s fine wave with one hand while fishing out her phone from her pocket with the other. She glanced at the screen, seeing enough of the text from Sammie to swallow her bite of suddenly dry sandwich with a gulp.
“Trouble?” Drew asked.
Why did he have to be so perceptive?
She shook her head and lied, “Nope. Everything’s fine.” If fine equaled Natalie on the warpath because Peyton had disappeared with a certain very camera-worthy cowboy. It was only a matter of time before Nat or one of the guys stuck their heads in the diner and spotted them.
Granted, letting Nat film them would be a sure-fire way to show her family how she was letting Dr. Drew dog her steps, with the added benefit of undoubtedly making him uncomfortable. He really didn’t seem the reality TV star wannabe type. But the last thing Peyton wanted to do today was be the lone focus of Nat’s seemingly endless need for additional camera takes and retakes. It was time to leave.
She looked for Meg. “But I probably should get going. Any chance I can get a to-go box?” She lifted up in her seat so she could pull her credit card from her front jeans pocket, then held it up when Meg turned away from the couple in the booth across from them whose plates she’d just cleared and glanced their way.
Drew held up a staying hand. “No, I’ve got this.” He shifted and pulled his thin wallet from his pocket.
“Because you’re the guy?”
“No, because I suggested the diner and recommended the Reuben.”
Despite chaffing her sense of independence, she couldn’t come up with an argument against his logic, so she nodded.
“Are you going to rejoin the other ladies and the camera crew?” he asked, his gaze keen.
“I am not.” She checked to see if Meg was coming, but the waitress had taken the plates she’d cleared back toward the kitchen.
“Are you going back to your trailer at the rodeo grounds?” Was that hope in his voice?
“I am not,” she repeated. She mentally consulted the list of Fun Things To Do she’d been compiling since arriving in Pineville, trying to decide which activity would be the best for introducing her babysitter to her way of living. One in particular popped to the forefront, and one corner of her mouth tugged upward. Oh yeah.
“What about the meet and greet at two?”
“I’ll be back in time.” Or she won’t. While she was contractually obligated to Buckin’ TV to ride during the exhibitions the women were putting on at the various rodeos they were visiting, she’d made a point to have flexibility written in to her contract when it came to the other activities Nat planned. It was up to Peyton what she participated in and what she didn’t. To a point.
She abruptly asked, “Do you have wheels?”
He sat back. The red faux leather upholstery squeaked beneath his weight. “My truck is parked near the end of Main Street.”
Peyton nodded, pleased.
“Why?”
She dodged the specifics with, “My truck gets to spend this week in Pineville’s repair shop getting a new transmission.”
He opened his mouth, probably to ask her where she planned to go if not back to the rodeo grounds, but Meg arrived at their booth, and Drew instead asked for two take-out boxes and handed over his credit card.
The waitress looked at them with clear speculation but took their still full baskets of food to box up for them.
Peyton rubbed her hands together in anticipation. “That sandwich is going to be so good later.”
“Do you have a microwave in your trailer?” Drew asked.
“Yep. And a toaster oven. All the comforts of home.”
“Where is home?”
She wiped at her mouth again on the off chance she’d missed some of the delicious sauce and said, “Texas.”
“I already know that.”
“Outside of The Woodlands, Texas. My family has a ranch there.”
He nodded as if he already knew as much. “Where you learned to ride ranch saddle broncs?”
“Exactly.”
“School?”
“I went,” she quipped, but at the twitch of his eyebrow, she relented and added, “And graduated with a degree in psychology.” She’d hoped that not only would she make her family happy by completing her degree instead of simply reveling in her recovery by adventuring, but she’d also come to understand herself better. At least she’d accomplished one of those things. For a little while.
Wanting to shift Drew’s attention away from her and her family—though he probably knew more than she’d like, having been hired, or whatever, by her dad—she asked, “And you grew up on the Wright Ranch?”
“I did.”
Meg returned with their to-go boxes and Drew’s credit card and sales slip for him to sign. He thanked her, and she left with a distinct air of reluctance.
“But you went into medicine instead of rodeo rough stock ranching?” The spark of curiosity over his choice of careers flared to life.
He took the time to return his credit card to his wallet and his wallet to his pocket before answering. “Someone had to,” he answered blithely.
Despite knowing exactly how dangerous ranching life could be, she didn’t buy it. But she compressed her lips to keep her opinion to herself.
He blew out a heavy breath that let her know she’d failed at hiding her thoughts. His ability to read her was getting dangerous.
Drew said, “My oldest brother Ian runs the ranch, my second oldest brother Liam handles the broncs, and Alec—”
“Who was with you in the arena yesterday, right?”
He inclined his head. “Who was with me in the arena because he is currently pursuing a bull riding career and was attempting to take a practice ride until a couple of daredevil women decided to rile up his bull.”
Though more than a little pleased he’d called her and Sammie daredevils instead of just plain stupid, she focused on one particular part of his statement. “Currently? As in temporary?”
“I expect he’ll take over the bucking bull program from my grandfather when…well, when he’s ready.”
Peyton completely understood Drew’s hesitancy to put his grandfather’s demise to words. Her own beloved grandfather was still a force of nature who seemed impervious to his age. But she knew as well as Drew obviously did that no matter how much they might wish otherwise, even forces of nature eventually had an end.
Not wanting to dwell, she asked, “What about your sister?”
He sat back, and for a second, she feared he was about to ask Google much? And she wasn’t about to give up Sammie for her flash internet search abilities.
Instead, he said, “She is in the process of taking over her husband’s bull program.”
“Really?” Peyton couldn’t help but be impressed and gratified to hear a man would be willing to let a woman take the lead.
He shrugged as if it was a given. “She has a way with bulls. Especially when they’re calves.”
If only Peyton had a way with oil wells or pipelines.
No. She rejected the thought. She didn’t want to go into the family business. She wanted to experience life. To really live as much and as hard as she could. While she’d escaped any lingering health issues, she was definitely more aware of her mortality than most, and there was still so much that she wanted to do.
To that end, she said, “So your truck is just down the boardwalk?”
“It is. Why?”
“I need you to take me somewhere.”
“Back to the rodeo grounds?”
“Eventually.” She scooted to the end of the booth and peeked around the edge to check the front of the restaurant. She assumed she would have heard Nat and the crew if they had come through the door but better safe than sorry.
Seeing the coast was clear, she snagged her hat from the seat and boxed sandwich from the table and stood. “Come on, let’s go.”
“Where?” Drew asked, his deep voice made deeper by suspicion. He grabbed his own hat, pushed his way from the booth, and picked up the white box holding his sandwich. His icy gaze never left hers.
“You’ll find out.” She winked.
*
With a parting wave of his hat to Meg, Drew followed Peyton Halliday, who he was pretty sure his grandfather would call a firebrand, out of the Pineville Diner. Despite his best efforts, he found himself watching her backside and how her long hair bounced in time with her stride. What was wrong with him?
Momentarily blinded by the brightness of the blazing sun once he stepped out of the dimly lit restaurant, he walked right into her back. She’d stopped dead just outside the door. At first, he assumed she was simply waiting for her eyes to adjust to the dramatically different light level, but the moment he was able to see, he realized she was peering one way, then the other, down the boardwalk on both sides of the street.
Being considerably taller and able to see over the parked cars and trucks, Drew was able to immediately spot the dark-haired producer across the street. Nat appeared to be searching the stores across the way for Peyton.
He leaned down and tilted his head so he could whisper in Peyton’s ear without knocking their hats off. “Look across the street, to your left, four cars down.”
She jolted and knocked the brim of their hats together despite his efforts. They both barely caught them before they came off even as Peyton followed his instructions and looked where he’d directed. Drew knew the moment she saw her producer because she hunched down.
Drew grinned. Pretty sure Peyton wouldn’t be able to see over the small SUV directly in front of them, he kept his eyes on the Buckin’ TV producer as he said, “Nat is heading into the silver jewelry store in three…two…one. Coast is clear.”
“Are you sure?”
Her voice came from behind him. Drew turned and saw that Peyton had ducked behind him, using his body to shield her from the view of anyone who might look their way. He’d never seen anything more adorable.
But he felt compelled to say, “You’re aware that Nat knows what I look like and why I’d be with you, right?”
“Sammie said she saw you talking with Nat, but I’d hoped she was just asking you if you wanted a chance to be on TV. You being a”—as she straightened, her gaze traveled over him, the gold in her eyes sparkling in the bright sunlight—“cowboy and all.”
He laughed and gestured for her to start making their way down the boardwalk toward his truck. “The conversation did start out that way.” Despite what he said about being recognizable by Nat, he kept Peyton between himself and the buildings. Hopefully, his body and the parked cars would be enough to block Peyton from being spotted. While he didn’t know for certain, he was pretty sure the Halliday family hadn’t basically bribed someone from the sports medicine clinic into watching over her so that she would get to be on TV as much as Natalie Polk seemed to want her to be.
She hustled to keep pace with him. It took her nearly two steps to his one, but she didn’t complain, instead holding her to-go box beneath one arm and keeping her hat tilted in an attempt to hide her identity. A laughable endeavor considering all that glorious red hair and her white T-shirt with the Dallas Cowboys football team name and logo emblazoned across her chest.
The nearly hypnotizing motion of her breasts beneath the T-shirt had him yanking his gaze away from her and redirecting it across the street to the last business he’d seen Nat enter. He reminded himself he was going to keep things between them clinical, not personal. A challenge, for sure, but Drew was confident he could handle the spitfire and remain detached just fine.
“Where’s your truck?”
He looked toward the end of the boardwalk they were quickly approaching and pointed. “It’s the black dually parked at the end, there, across the street and in front of the coffee shop.”
“Of course. The one with the Wright Ranch logo painted in gold on the doors.”
He shrugged. “It’s a hand-me-down from my brother, Liam.”
“Nice brother.”
Thinking of all the times Liam had made him eat dirt, he smirked. “Not really. But after marrying our neighbor, Amanda, he drives Sky High Ranch trucks now.”
Drew shifted his box to his other hand and stopped her with a touch on her back as they drew even with where his truck was. “Let’s cross here.”
Keeping her tucked behind him, he guided her between a dust-coated white truck and a silver sedan as he scanned the boardwalk and the business fronts across from them.
As soon as the traffic and proverbial coast was clear, he said, “Okay, go.” He walked briskly across the street, but not so fast that Peyton couldn’t keep up. He was strangely gratified when she broke into a trot to draw even with him, again using his body as cover.
They had just reached the back of his truck when a loud commotion came from the specialty candy store three storefronts down from where he’d parked. The Buckin’ Babes and the camera crew were leaving the shop in a laughing, jostling scrum of long hair and snug western jeans. Fortunately, they were all turning away from him and Peyton, but just to be safe, he hustled her around to the driver’s side of the truck. The dually was more than big enough to hide her from view once they reached the double cab.
He opened the rear door and she practically dove in, sliding her boxed-up sandwich across the seat but remaining crouched low behind the driver’s seat.
Shaking his head at the ridiculousness of it all, Drew shut the door behind her, opened the driver’s door, and hoisted himself in. He set his to-go box on the front passenger seat.
“Are they still headed in the other direction?” she asked behind him.
He glanced out the passenger window at the gaggle of women and the two men. One guy was balancing a large camera on his shoulder and watching the action through a viewfinder, and the sound guy held a huge, fuzzy microphone over the group as if trying to tempt a bunch of birds with a furry caterpillar.
Drew started the truck with a rumble of the engine and waited a beat to see if anyone turned their way. “No, they’re staying put, but thanks to bags of newly purchased chocolate, they’re occupied.”
“Good. Just go then.”
Drew put the gear shift into reverse but didn’t take his foot off the brake. “So back to your trailer at the rodeo grounds?” He tried again to make his job as easy as possible.
“Eventually,” she said again, probably trying to sound breezy, but considering her current position, she simply sounded a touch demented.
Drew tried to see her in the rearview mirror, but only the crown of her cowboy hat was visible. “Okay. Then where to before eventually ?”
“Just head out of town. West.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Drew backed out of the diagonal parking space and slowly made his way back down Main Street. He couldn’t help but glance at the cluster of lady bronc riders, who were now slowly making their way along the boardwalk. He locked eyes with Sammie, and she watched him intently as he drove away.
“Will Sammie tell on you?”
“What?”
“Sammie just watched me drive by. Does she know you’re with me?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, she’ll tell on you?” He tried to catch sight of Sammie in his side mirror. Though he didn’t know why he cared. He was doing exactly what her family wanted him to do. Nothing could possibly happen to her while she was with him. He wouldn’t allow it.
“No, she won’t tell on me. She’s my friend. But yes, she knows I’m with you. She’s the one who texted me that Nat was on the hunt. Can I get up now?”
He was about to say yes when he spotted Natalie standing on the corner of the boardwalk, hands planted on her hips, looking very much like the pissed-off executive producer she was as she stared out at the parking lot of Frank’s Groceries. “Give it a sec,” he answered instead.
Once he’d turned off Main Street, he said, “Okay, you can sit up now.”
She whooped, but instead of just climbing up into the backseat, she scrambled over the center console and picked up his to-go box so she could plop down in the front passenger captain’s seat.
She sent him a beaming smile that dried the spit in his mouth as she buckled herself in. “That was excellent. Thanks.”
He wasn’t about to accept her gratitude until he knew what she was up to. Any woman, hell, anyone, who gleefully climbed on the back of animals like Karen From Finance or, God help him, Red Rum was not to be trusted.
He turned his attention back to the road and again asked, “Where are we going?”
“I want to go check out the mountain.”
Drew waved a hand at the lineup of legitimate mountains in front of them as he drove out of town. “I’m afraid you need to be more specific.”
“Mt. Bachelor. I’ve heard a lot about Mt. Bachelor, like how you can drive right up to it.”
“You can do more than that. In the winter, you can ski from the very top to pretty much all over the mountain. This time of year, you can bomb down it on mountain bikes.” The second the words left his mouth, he immediately regretted them.
“Cool,” she said, then laughed at him. “Don’t worry, I don’t want to go mountain biking. Today.”
She laughed again when he shot her a look.
Hoping to dissuade her, he said, “It’s almost an hour’s drive from here.”
“Oh, I’m sure you can get us there faster in this bad boy.” She patted the dash.
He could, if he were the speeding type. Which he wasn’t. He must have looked like he was ready to turn the truck around and take her back to the rodeo, which he was, because she grew serious. “Honest, I just want to check out the view. Cross my heart.”
Drew watched her make an x over the chest he’d swore he wouldn’t think about and feared that, promise or not, he just might be in serious trouble with a certain Peyton Halliday and his ability to resist her cute and fiery appeal.