Her Cowboy Billionaire Beast

by Liz Isaacson

  His legs felt good. He’d done a gentle, easy run with Elise yesterday. She was having a good day, and she’d gone two miles with him, and then let him do two more on his own.

  She could run four miles with him now, and there was nothing Gray loved more than running with his wife. Maybe fishing with his son. Or living with both of them in the farmhouse on the land where he’d grown up.

  Yes, he definitely liked that the best.

  He hopped up on his toes, keeping his calves warm.

  A sea of people filled his vision, and his familiar anxiety roared back to life. He reminded himself he was ready for this. He wasn’t competing against all of these people. Only those in his age group. He wouldn’t be at the front of the pack, no matter what he did.

  He hoped he would be on television at some point, because he knew his parents would be watching with Grams. Elise had been ill for the past couple of months as she dealt with morning sickness, and they’d both spent plenty of time on their knees, begging God to allow her to feel well enough to come to Boston.

  Gray hadn’t run a marathon without her in the crowd for a while now, and he didn’t want to be there by himself.

  Of course, he wasn’t here by himself. Hunter had come and had always been planning on coming. Colton and Annie had both come. Wes had brought his wife and baby. Ames and Cy were there, though Cy hadn’t brought Patsy. Apparently, she had a lot going on with the family orchard and trying to get it transferred to her name. Not only that, but Whiskey Mountain Lodge was entering the summer season, and Patsy had a lot of work to do.

  Gray didn’t mind, because it wasn’t like Cy and Patsy were married. Even if they had been, Gray understood that it wasn’t all that fun to stand around for hours watching people run by.

  He bent and stretched his back, an alarm on his watch going off as he felt the age in his spine.

  But he felt good today. Very good. He was going to give this his best effort, because he wasn’t sure he’d ever do anything like this again.

  He silenced the alarm and put his sunglasses in position, tucked beneath the elastic band of his visor.

  This was just another run. He’d done a marathon in St. George, Utah in the fall, and he’d done two more in the past six months, once on a treadmill, and once just a few weeks ago as the weather started to warm around Denver.

  He’d beaten his Colfax marathon time in St. George, but his time a few weeks ago was slower.

  Gray wasn’t going to let it bother him. Not today. Nine people had flown here to see him run, and he had many more watching for a glimpse of him.

  He was going to give them what they’d come for. He was going to start strong like he usually did, and put in a good, fast five miles. Then he’d pull back and conserve some energy. He’d push through miles seventeen to twenty, his worst stretch.

  And he’d finish strong.

  A man came over the loudspeaker, and Gray perked up. He stretched his arms again and rolled his ankles.

  He was ready.

  This needed to start.

  “The traditional gun will go off. Please don’t surge forward. Wait until the crowd in front of you starts, and then begin. Your time won’t start until you pass the sensor at the starting line, and it concludes at the finish line.”

  Gray knew all of this, and while he normally didn’t run with his cell phone, today, he’d kept his device with him. He pulled it out and took a quick selfie as the announcer finished his directions.

  Gray had mere seconds to get the picture sent, and he quickly tapped and added it to the group text. He wished he had time to tell Elise how much he loved her, and Hunter that he was so glad the boy was his son.

  Instead, they got a picture of him at the starting line of the Boston Marathon.

  The gun went off, and Gray’s pulse bounced into the back of his throat. He was ready to go.

  He was in the first third of the crowd, and he could wait until the sea thinned if he wanted. But he didn’t want to. He took a moment to tuck the phone in the waistband of his running shorts and zipped it in securely against his back.

  Up ahead, he saw people start to move, and Gray bounced one last time on his toes, and then he started moving.

  He didn’t go very fast, because he wasn’t to the starting line yet. He could use this couple hundred yards or so to find his breath and stretch his muscles one final time.

  He never came exploding out of the gate anyway. This wasn’t a sprint.

  He caught sight of the starting line up ahead, and he increased his speed. By the time he crossed it, he was moving at his top speed for the first five miles.

  Hunter had said they’d get a spot along the lines near the beginning, so they’d know he was there. Elise had done that in Denver, and Gray had really appreciated it. Her presence early in the race had impacted him more than he’d known, and he’d asked his family to do the same here.

  The cheering on the sidelines nearly deafened him in the beginning, as did the rush of his own adrenaline.

  Then the first mile ended, and the second was easier, faster, and quieter. Gray sometimes ran with headphones in, and plenty of other people were.

  Today, Gray wanted to experience everything around him. The city. The route. The smells.

  Mile two ended, and Gray checked his watch. He was moving fast, and it felt so good. So easy. So natural.

  He didn’t think about his feet, or his legs, or the fact that by the end of the year, he’d be a father for the second time.

  He just existed in this moment, and then the next, everything he’d been training inside his body working together seamlessly.

  “Dad!”

  Gray heard Hunter’s voice, because it was ingrained in his soul. He thought he’d probably be able to hear it across great distances if Hunter cried out to him.

  He looked right and down the line a bit, and he saw Hunter jumping up and down with the sign he’d made. And then the noise of his brothers hit his eardrums, and Gray grinned at them, moving from the center of the route toward the side.

  Cy whistled between his teeth, a shrill noise that made Gray’s heart take flight. Wes whooped and clapped, and Colton’s voice seemed to be made of thunder. Ames yelled his name over and over, and Gray started laughing.

  He held out his hand, and several strangers slapped five with him as he went by. He just wanted to touch his wife.

  Elise stood at the far end of the row, her face alight with joy as she cheered for him too. He couldn’t hear her voice above his brothers, because they were so loud. But it didn’t matter. Elise’s support existed way down deep in his soul.

  His family leaned over the barrier to give him five, and Gray took strength from each of them as he raced by.

  He wouldn’t slow down for them, because he had an amazing stride going right now, and he was running in the Boston Marathon.

  A zing shot down his arm as Elise’s fingers touched his for a fraction of a second, and then Gray was past them.

  That high kept him running faster than normal until mile six, and then Gray forced himself to slow down. He couldn’t run a half-marathon at a pace of six-fifteen per mile and expect to be able to finish at all. He’d been running long enough to know what worked for him over twenty-six miles.

  He ran, and ran, and ran, not really noticing anyone else around him. He passed a lot of people, including a mother pushing three children in a triple stroller.

  He appreciated the atmosphere and camaraderie of the people on the course with him, and their effort spurred him to keep going through ten miles, and then twelve.

  A van came up beside him, and Gray ignored it. The media vans had been all over the course, and they mostly stayed out of the way. This one moved in front of him and seemed to match his pace.

  The back doors opened, and a cameraman knelt there, recording him. Gray wondered if they had isolated him because he was fairly alone on the course right now.

  “Wave to your mother,” another guy in the van yelled, and Gray did, a h
uge smile on his face. He wouldn’t put it past his father to know someone he could call to make sure Gray got filmed during the marathon.

  He kept his pace in a medium range, and he caught up to the van as it slowed. Another camera recorded him through the side door, and a woman clung to a handle and pressed into the back of the passenger seat.

  “Here we have Gray Hammond, who’s forty-three years old. He took third in the Colfax Marathon last year in Denver to qualify for Boston, and he’s our current forty-to-forty-five age range leader.”

  Gray really wanted to turn toward the reporter and ask her if she was kidding. That couldn’t be right. She just meant he was the leader right now, because the other forty-to-forty-five year olds had started behind him. They’d surely end with a faster time.

  It didn’t matter. He was on TV, and surely his mother would get to see him.

  Eventually, the van slowed, and Gray let it fall behind. He made it through the hardest miles of the race, and he let himself go as fast as his body wanted to and could go.

  The finish line was almost near when the noise level increased, and Gray couldn’t believe he’d done this.

  This was one of his major bucket list items, and he’d done it.

  “You did it, Gray!”

  “Good job, Dad!”

  “Run fast, Gray!”

  He loved that one the best, because that was Elise’s voice, and she’d said that in Colfax.

  He ran hard across the finish line, and only then did he start to slow and allow his body to tell him he needed to stop now.

  He did, sucking at the air and reaching for his phone in that back pocket. He unzipped it, but it didn’t matter. His family knew how to find him, and several minutes later, after he’d downed several gulps of Gatorade and found his normal breathing, he heard Colton call his name.

  He turned toward the sound, and the group of them engulfed him. They ended up all laughing, and Gray found the one person who always reminded him who he was and who he wanted to be.

  Elise.

  “You did it, baby,” she said, grinning up at him.

  “Thanks for coming,” he said to her, bending down to give her a quick kiss.

  “You were on the big screen,” Hunter said, turning his phone toward Gray. “I got it on video. Look, it has your name at the bottom and everything.”

  Gray took the phone and watched the clip, in complete disbelief. “This is awesome.”

  “Mom’s called three times,” Wes said. “You better call her as soon as you feel like you can.”

  “All right,” Gray said. “But I have to eat.”

  “We’ve got a reservation at Steakson’s,” Ames said. “In thirty minutes.”

  “Let’s get going then,” Gray said. “I’ll call Mom later.” He handed Hunter’s phone back to him.

  “Do you think you’ll be the leader in your age group?” Cy asked.

  “No way,” Gray said. “I just happened to start in the first third of the race.”

  “I think you’ll be wrong about that,” Wes said. “And I really like it when you’re wrong.”

  “Well, I turned in my sensy-thing, so I can find out once it’s all recorded.”

  “Doesn’t that drive you nuts?” Colton asked. “Not knowing.”

  “Not really,” Gray said, shrugging. “I ran fast today. It felt great. I know I did well. Where I place doesn’t matter after that.”

  “Oh, boy,” Cy said, rolling his eyes. “Thanks, Dad.”

  “Yeah, can you keep the lectures to a minimum while we’re on vacation?” Wes teased.

  “Vacation?” Gray practically roared. “I just ran twenty-six miles. Someone else is buying my dinner.”

  “By choice,” Ames said, joining into the ribbing. “You ran that far by choice. We’re just not as crazy as you are.”

  “Okay,” Gray said. “Okay.” He laughed again, because while running was a solitary event, he sure did like having his loved ones here with him once he finished.

  He met Cy’s eye, and something passed between them. Cy put on a good front, and Gray recognized it because he’d spent a lot of time doing the same thing. Something was going on there, and Gray determined he’d ask his brother when they were alone, or when he could text him singly.

  Then he’d get the real story about what was going on in Coral Canyon, with Cy’s new shop, his new house, and his new girlfriend.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “Okay, close your eyes and turn around.” Patsy grinned at him when Cy looked up from the computer screen. He drank in the womanly shape of her, the curve of her hips in those sexy jeans, the extra height she gained from her heeled sandals, and that short-sleeved sweater with rainbow stripes.

  “Look at you,” he said, standing. He wanted to look and touch.

  “I mean it, Cy,” she said in a stern voice. “It’s your birthday, and you can’t see what I have planned.”

  “You sure?” He swept her into his arms, and she giggled as he growled. “I want my birthday kiss.”

  She tipped her head back and kissed him, and Cy didn’t care what the rest of the day brought. With Patsy, he was complete.

  “Okay,” she said. “But seriously, Cy. I didn’t get up at the crack of dawn to kiss you.”

  “No? Too bad.” He touched his mouth to hers again. “How’d you know I’d be here?”

  “Because the house is almost done,” she said, giggling and dancing away from him. “Now, come on. I have a blindfold, and I’m not taking no for an answer.”

  Cy’s blood ran hot, but he didn’t say what was on his mind, as it probably wasn’t appropriate. “You should’ve been this assertive with your sister,” he said.

  “I was,” Patsy said. “That’s why the orchard is passing to me in ten days.”

  Cy was just about to close his eyes, but he stalled. “Patsy,” he said slowly. “What are you saying?”

  “She gave in.” Patsy squealed, and Cy swept her right off her feet as laughter pulled through his lungs and chest.

  “You’re kidding,” he said among the chuckles. “That’s so great, sweetheart.”

  Patsy had been trying to get the ownership of the orchard given to her, and it had been a long month since she’d sat down with her father to show him her sister’s mishandling. She hadn’t wanted to hurt Betty, but she didn’t want to lose what her ancestors had invested their entire lives in.

  Patsy exuded pure joy, and Cy simply basked in it. He set her on her feet and gazed at her. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

  “You should reserve judgment on that until this day ends.” She grinned up at him. “Now, close your eyes and turn around so I can put this thing on.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Cy did what she asked, and while he didn’t normally come over to the shop this early, Patsy had been right. He’d come early because the painters had shown up at the house where he’d been squatting. His house, but he wasn’t supposed to be living in it quite yet.

  He still had the rental, and he could’ve slept there. He simply wanted to be in his house, and Cy sort of did what he wanted, when he wanted to do it.

  “Okay,” Patsy said, tying a tight knot in the blindfold at the back of his head. “Let’s go. You hold onto my hand, and I’ll get you where you need to go.”

  “Okay,” he said, taking one tentative step. He trusted Patsy, but it was still hard to walk when he couldn’t see. Painstaking step by painstaking step, she led him to her car, and then she drove him somewhere. It didn’t take very long, so they had to be somewhere nearby, and when she let him out of the car, it still smelled like pine trees.

  Up six steps, and through a door, and the scent of maple syrup met his nose. He started to chuckle at the same time his mind started telling him he did not deserve this woman.

  “Surprise,” she said, sweeping the blindfold off. “You said if your last meal was going to be breakfast, you’d want Belgian waffles with sausage.”

  A plate of sausage sat on the counter, and she quickly r
ounded it. “I’ll have waffles ready in five minutes. You sit.”

  “Patsy,” he said, still in wonder at the kindness of her heart.

  “Sit,” she said, smiling. “It’s your birthday, Cy. You get whatever you want today.”

  He didn’t sit but went to stand beside her. “Whatever I want?” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her neck.

  “Behave yourself,” she whispered, but there was absolutely no power behind her words.

  He chuckled and simply kissed her again. “I got you something for my birthday,” he whispered.

  “Cy,” she said. “That’s not how birthdays work.”

  “It is when you’re me,” he said.

  She shook her head, and he couldn’t tell if she was really upset or just trying to focus on the waffle batter.

  Cy decided to do what she said and behave himself and sit at the bar. A minute later, she served him a toasty, brown Belgian waffle, and he smothered it in butter and syrup. “There’s just a couple of things I want,” he said.

  “I know,” Patsy said. “I’ve got all the meals planned for today, so don’t ruin them for me.” She grinned at him and cut into her own waffle. “And you’re going to get your dance tonight.”

  He grinned at her. “Thank you, Patsy.”

  “I have another gift for you too,” she said. “At your house. You’ll get it when you go home tonight.”

  He nodded and stuck another bite of everything in his mouth. The waffle, the syrup, the sausage…it was a bite of heaven on a fork. After he chewed and swallowed, he asked, “When can I give you my gift?”

  “Where is it?”

  “The shop.”

  “Dinner is at the shop,” she said.

  “Dinner is at the shop?” He lifted his eyebrows. “I didn’t see that on my schedule.”

  “Marissa knows,” Patsy said with a smile. “I arranged the whole day with her. She won’t call you unless the building catches on fire or someone dies.”

  Cy burst out laughing again, and he realized what that meant. He got to spend the whole day with Patsy, the woman he was falling in love with. Or maybe he was already in love with her. He wasn’t sure.