To Marry a Texas Cowboy

by Julie Benson

  “Because you know so much about the wedding industry.”

  Zane shook his head and moved back to the fence. His hands gripped the top rail. “You are the most obstinate, controlling, repressed woman I’ve ever met.”

  “You’d rather I acted like the women you date?”

  “Now you’re an expert on my type?”

  “I know it the way I know July in Texas will be hot.”

  “This I’ve got to hear.” Zane crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the fence.

  “Your most important criterion is looks. Any woman you date must be attractive. I bet a nine is your minimum. You want someone who’ll laugh at your jokes, compliment you, and fawn all over you. But she better not make demands. Basically, you want a talking Barbie doll, the traditional ones, not the new ones with different body types and careers.”

  “You’ve got a lot of nerve criticizing me over looks when you won’t have anything to do with a guy better looking than you are.”

  “I notice you didn’t say I was wrong about your type.” Her rigid posture and voice displayed her certainty.

  She couldn’t be more wrong. “Then let me straighten you out. Looks aren’t my top priority. Like George Strait says, ‘I’m not here for a long time; I’m here for a good time.’ What matters most is that a woman knows how to have fun. Which leaves you outta luck.”

  “Good.”

  Her quick dismissal shouldn’t have stung but did. How would she like being in the hot seat? “Let’s talk about you.”

  “Go right ahead. I can take constructive criticism.”

  Meaning he couldn’t?

  “You follow rules no matter what, even if one doesn’t make sense or if you don’t agree with it. As a kid, your parents never lost a minute of sleep worrying about you. Bet they still don’t. Your career is your whole life. You tell yourself when you’ve achieved enough goals, you’ll get a personal life. You don’t have a type because there’s no room for a man in your life.”

  McKenna flinched and stumbled backward. Tears glistened in her eyes, and he felt as if he’d stolen a fly from a blind spider. He’d meant to pierce her skin with his jab, but he hadn’t meant his cut to go so deep. He avoided conflict almost as much as commitments. Why was it so tough to do with McKenna? “That was uncalled for.”

  She stood spine stiff, her arms crossed over her chest, and her chin tilted upward. “There’s nothing wrong with putting career goals first.”

  “Life doesn’t stand still waiting for you, darlin’. The world keeps moving, and you’re missing out. You’ll end up like Roy Franklin. He said when he retired, he’d visit Paris, France, and go deep-sea fishing. But he waited too long and his health deteriorated. He went straight into a nursing home without ever leaving Texas.”

  “I could be a fun gal if I wanted to. It’s not hard.” McKenna pulled the clip out of her awful bun. Her long, slender fingers combed through her hair and she shook her head, sending it floating around her before the curls spilled down her back. The sunlight bounced off her hair, revealing small bits of gold.

  Having her hair around her face softened her features instead of emphasizing the angles the way yanking her hair back so tight did, making her appear more relaxed, more approachable.

  Next, she yanked off her horrid oatmeal-colored bulky cardigan and tossed it on the top fence rail. Taking off that horrible garment revealed she possessed slender curves. Definitely feminine enough for any man to notice. Why did she hide behind baggy, boxy, butt-ugly clothes his grandmother wouldn’t wear?

  She tapped her delicate index finger against her full lower lip in thought. “I’m thinking fun women show off their assets.”

  When her fingers moved to the buttons on her blouse, his heart rate jumped. She popped open the second button. His eyes widened in shock. His mouth went dry. Then she undid the third, leaving her neckline hanging open in a deep V, teasing him with a glimpse of cleavage. He grew light-headed and sweat broke out on his forehead.

  “What the hell are you doing?” And why wasn’t he stopping her?

  Admit it. You want to see how far she’ll go, and if you’ll feel something real.

  “I’m proving a point.” Then she sauntered toward him, her hips gently swaying.

  His palms itched to touch her. A shiver rippled through him. He’d lost his mind.

  The image of McKenna after the engagement party, barefoot, her skirt billowing around her as she spun around dancing with her broom, her face glowing with passion as she sang materialized before him.

  While she wasn’t classically beautiful, there was something about her that drew him. Her honest, plain speaking. Her strength and confidence. And her voice. Whenever she got irritated, it turned husky, and all he could hear was her magnificent singing voice.

  She stopped in front of him. If he dipped his gaze a bit, he’d get a clear view of her cleavage. His gaze remained locked on her face. He longed to reach out and pull her toward him, but he shoved his hands in his pockets.

  “Why, Zane. I never imagined I’d be here like this with you. That you’d notice me.”

  He’d heard these words or similar ones so often they barely registered anymore.

  Until now. With McKenna.

  Her melodic tone again reminded him of her singing Of the passion he’d sensed in her. Why did she work so hard to deny her nature?

  Get a grip. She’s only playing pretend, and you know it.

  She placed her hands on his shoulders and massaged his taut muscles. Her gaze locked with his. “Ooh, you’re so tense. Am I bothering you?”

  “What do you think?” Hell, yes. In ways he never expected she could. His head knew she was putting on a show to teach him a lesson, but his body didn’t care, kicking into overdrive.

  What was wrong with him? He and McKenna had nothing in common. She wouldn’t know how to have a good time if the Lord gave her directions. Worse, she was a good girl. A rule follower. Women like McKenna expected what he couldn’t give.

  He stiffened and placed his hands over hers, intending to pry them off his shoulders, but froze. Instead his thumb caressed the sensitive skin on the inside of her wrist. Her sigh sent his pulse racing.

  The warm glow in McKenna’s eyes drew him in. He sucked in his breath. The apparent desire on her face, in her touch was an act. Despite that, Lord help him, he wanted to make her feel that same intensity for real. For the first time in his life, what a woman thought of him mattered.

  His hands slid down her back, caressing. Her sharp, hot breath fanned against his neck, burning his skin. Her lavender and mint scent drifted over him. Fresh and earthy, unlike the cloying scents many women wore. McKenna licked her lips, and common sense deserted him. All he could think about was making McKenna’s desire match his.

  He leaned toward her, but she closed the distance between them. Her lips covered his, startling him before excitement, raw and powerful, surged through him. He pulled her hips toward his and deepened the kiss. Passion, strong, heady, and overwhelming, flowed from McKenna into him.

  Her body molded to his, angles against slender curves. He couldn’t get close enough to her. He needed more. His tongue mated with hers as his hand drifted upward to cup her breast. Her sensual groan echoed in his ears, fueling his need.

  A ping sounded. McKenna gasped and jumped away. He couldn’t meet her gaze. What the hell had they done and how could her kiss have lit him up brighter than a Christmas tree?

  Needing time to cool off, Zane dug his phone out of his pocket and glanced at the screen, discovering AJ texted him to see if he’d be at the Horseshoe tonight.

  When he faced McKenna, she’d tamed her wild curls back into the horrid bun. “It’s not hard to be the kind of woman you like. All it takes is telling you what you want to hear, hanging on your every word, and playing up to you to keep from bruising your enormous ego. What a great basis for a relationship.”

  His hand tightened around his phone. “Yup. Superficial, temporary, and fun.
That’s how I like ’em, and I tell a woman that before we get started.”

  He couldn’t risk repeating his parents’ mistakes. He refused to put the pain he’d seen in his mother’s gaze in a woman’s eyes. After all, how could a serious relationship work when neither parent wanted him after their divorce? He was part of a past they wanted to forget.

  When he looked back at McKenna, he swore he saw pity in her eyes. Why, when it should be the other way around? She was the one who wasn’t living. He had a full life. She was the one who strangled the joy out of everything with her endless rules.

  But then she wrapped her arms around her waist and banked her emotions. Whatever he’d seen disappeared, leaving her composed and in control again. “Listen up. I’m going to tell you what I think whether you like it or not. I’m not one of those females who’ll cater to you.”

  “No worries I’ll think that.” His phone buzzed again with another text from AJ. Heads up. McKenna will be there. Something about helping with the band for the reception.

  What she’d said had been true? “AJ texted me saying you’ll be at the Horseshoe tonight. Something about the band for their reception. You really expect me to be there? It wasn’t an excuse?”

  “That’s right. I’m meeting Grace at seven to help negotiate a contract if they like the band.”

  “You don’t need me for that.”

  “I know, but my guess is since I told Campbell you’d be at the Horseshoe, she’ll be there looking for you. If you’re not, she’ll want to know why. You’re going because I have no intention of dealing with her ticked off twice in one day.”

  “I thought you said you didn’t need my help handling Campbell.”

  “I could deal with her tonight, but I don’t want to. She’s your problem.” She walked away.

  He let her go. He’d had all he could take of dealing with women today, but first chance he got he intended to give McKenna a lesson on company hierarchy, and who was on top of the org chart.

  *

  At six-thirty, McKenna stood on Ginny’s front porch, a loaf of pumpkin bread clutched in her hands, her stomach tight, and her nerves frayed. Until Zane’s arrival, the office had been a place where she felt competent. There she could forget about her debts and focus on creating a future better than what she’d had before she was fired.

  How could she have kissed Zane? Not a friendly, quick kiss, but bodies-pressed-together-hands-exploring-each-other kissed him? Worse yet, she’d enjoyed every single nanosecond of the experience. She’d never felt anything as wild and overpowering as the desire Zane aroused in her.

  The discussion with Zane and the kiss convinced McKenna she had to change Ginny’s mind about his involvement in Lucky Stars. The aluminum tin crinkled, and McKenna loosened her grip to avoid giving her boss half smushed pumpkin bread.

  When Amber answered the door this time, McKenna asked to see Ginny.

  “It’s the perfect time. Ginny just woke from a nap.” Amber’s ponytail swished back and forth nearly smacking McKenna in the face, as she led her into the living room.

  There she discovered Ginny on the couch propped up with pillows. McKenna smiled and walked across the room to place the bread tin on the coffee table. “I know you’ve probably been inundated with food, but my mother taught me to bring something when visiting, so I made pumpkin bread.”

  “McKenna, what on earth happened to your face?”

  After settling onto the large, overstuffed chair beside the couch, she detailed the cork incident, keeping her voice light. She also insisted she was fine. Guess she’d be repeating this conversation until the bruises faded. Maybe she should print out cards to hand out to save her voice and time.

  “Did you see a doctor to make sure your nose wasn’t broken?”

  McKenna almost laughed. Nose fixations must be a family trait. “I googled treatment for a broken nose. The Mayo Clinic said unless it’s misshapen or I can’t breathe well, there’s no treatment other than over-the-counter pain meds and elevating my head when I sleep.”

  Then Ginny asked if she’d filled out an incident report, to which McKenna replied she had.

  “Thank you for bringing the pumpkin bread. You know how I love it,” Ginny said and turned to her nurse. “Amber dear, if it’s not too much trouble, would you make a pot of peach tea to go with McKenna’s wonderful bread? Be sure to help to help yourself. No one makes better pumpkin bread than McKenna.”

  After Amber left, McKenna suppressed her urge to launch into the reason for her visit. Instead, she smiled and said, “I hope you feel as good as you look.”

  “I’ll admit it was rough at first, but now I’m surprised how much I’m enjoying slowing down. I’m catching up on my reading, and I finally got to watch that series Downton Abbey that everyone raved about. If it weren’t for my physical therapist being a twenty-first century torture expert, this would be the best vacation I’ve had in years.”

  “You really do work too hard, Ginny.”

  “Here you go, Miz Logan,” Amber said as she arrived carrying a silver tray with matching Irish china teapot, cups, and plates with slices of pumpkin bread. After placing the tray on the coffee table, she asked Ginny if she wanted her to pour the tea, but Ginny replied McKenna would see to it once it steeped.

  Alone again, McKenna asked, “Is there anything I can do while I’m here? Do you need me to throw in a load of laundry?”

  “Amber and Zane have taken great care of me. I don’t know what I’d do without them, especially Zane. He means the world to me.”

  Seizing on Ginny’s opening, McKenna said, “May I ask you why you changed your mind about me managing the business during your absence and appointed him instead?”

  “I apologize for the way I handled the situation. I should’ve told you myself, but I made the decision right before my surgery. Please forgive me, dear.”

  Okay. Awkward much? What could she say other than she forgave Ginny? “There’s nothing to forgive. It’s your company, after all. I only wanted to understand your reasoning.” Needing something to occupy her hands other than wringing them, McKenna served the tea.

  As she sipped hers, she tried to decide how to proceed.

  Telling her boss she’d made a colossal mistake putting her grandson in charge didn’t seem the right way to go. What if she focused on how his presence got in the way of working with clients and could negatively impact the business?

  But before McKenna could organize her thoughts, Ginny said, “You seem like something is bothering you. Is there a problem? What do you think of my grandson?”

  McKenna tore off a corner of pumpkin bread and popped it into her mouth to buy her time. Oh dear. What a loaded question. What could she say? That they couldn’t find common ground on the roof in a flood?

  Her mother’s voice rattling off advice rang in McKenna’s head. If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything. But Mom never said what to do when remaining silent screamed the truth.

  “He seems pleasant enough.” McKenna cleared her throat. At least with everyone else. But with her he seemed determined to see how much and how often he could tick her off. “I know he loves you very much. It’s just we’re so different and…” She paused, trying to regroup, but gave up, fearing she’d dig a deeper hole.

  “Your differences are exactly why you should work well together.”

  Differences complement. Opposites attract. People who spouted sayings like those had no idea what they were talking about. Similarities provided harmony. Ginny couldn’t be more wrong. She and Zane continually got on each other’s nerves and she doubted they could agree on the time of day, much less anything else.

  But you’ve got to admit opposites attract. You two sure proved that, and goodness, the man could kiss. Set up a kissing booth and he could bank a hefty retirement fund in a day. Two tops.

  “McKenna, you’re looking about as comfortable as a blind bear in a bramble patch. How about you tell me what’s really going on?”

  This
conversation wasn’t going the way McKenna hoped. She couldn’t tell her boss how she lost control in terms of her temper and self-control with Zane. How, based on her experience with him, he brought chaos wherever he went and had no respect for marriage.

  “Part of the problem is how women react to Zane.” The fine china cup rattled against the saucer as McKenna’s hand shook.

  McKenna detailed what had happened today with Cora’s bridesmaids, careful to keep her voice level and her expression blank. She went on to explain the problems she experienced when women discovered he wasn’t in the office. “They grill me about where he is and when he’ll be back. A couple asked me to call him, and when they don’t get to see him, they whine, mope, and pout.”

  She chewed on her lip. Should she mention her meeting with Susannah and Campbell? Guilt over possibly causing a problem between Zane and his grandmother warred with McKenna’s self-interests. Stop it. This was Ginny’s livelihood. She deserved to know how bad the issue was and the possible ramifications. In Dragnet just-the-facts-ma’am style, McKenna relayed an edited version of the situation with Campbell. “It’s not entirely Zane’s fault. Women seem to lose all common sense when he’s around.”

  “The ninnies.” Ginny shook her head. “Don’t any of them have an ounce of self-respect?”

  “I’ve concluded they don’t.” How could any woman think a man she’d won over acting the way these women had was worth having? “I think if Zane wasn’t there word would get around town and the office would go back to normal.”

  Ginny shook her head. “No. I need him in the office.”

  The stern, clipped, almost final, tone in Ginny’s voice sent apprehension shooting through McKenna. Had something happened since they’d talked about her managing Lucky Stars Weddings that changed Ginny’s mind? Had something or someone made her concerned about leaving her in charge? What if Ginny had learned what happened in Houston?

  McKenna swallowed hard and forced out her question. “Are you unhappy with my work? Have I done something wrong or something that’s made you distrust me?”