A Cowboy State of Mind

by Jennie Marts

  Surely she’d softened a little toward him in all that time. “Let me offer you a lift.” The dirt road they were on led to both of their families’ neighboring ranches.

  “No thanks. I’d rather pedal this bike until the moon comes up than take a ride from you.”

  Yep. Still mad, all right.

  Nothing he could do if she wanted to keep the grudge fest going. Except he was tired of the grudge. Tired of them being enemies. She’d been the best friend he’d ever had. And right now, he felt like he could use a friend.

  His pride had already been wounded; what was one more hit? At least he could say he tried.

  Although he didn’t want it to seem like he was trying too hard. He did still have a little pride left, damn it.

  “Okay. Suit yourself. It’s not that hot out here.” He squinted up at the bright Colorado sun, then eased off the brake, letting the car coast forward.

  “Wait.” She shifted from one booted foot to the other, the plastic pirate sword bouncing against her curvy hip. “Fine. I’ll take a ride. But only because I’m desperate.”

  “You? Desperate? I doubt it,” he said with a chuckle. Putting the car in Park, he left the engine running and made his way around the back of the car. He reached for the bike, but she was already fitting it into the back seat of the convertible.

  “I’ve got it.” Her gaze traveled along the length of his body, coming to rest on his face, and her expression softened for the first time. “I heard about the fight and your injury.”

  He froze, heat rushing to his cheeks and anger building in his gut. Of course she’d heard about the fight. It had made the nightly news, for Pete’s sake. He was sure the whole town of Creedence had heard about it.

  Nothing flowed faster than a good piece of gossip in a small town. Especially when it’s bad news—or news about the fall of the hometown hero. Or the guy who thought he was better than everyone else and bigger than his small-town roots, depending on who you talked to and which camp they fell into. Or what day of the week it was.

  You could always count on a small town to be loyal.

  Until you let them down.

  “I’m fine,” he said, probably a little too sternly, as he opened the car door, giving her room to pass him and slide into the passenger seat. He sucked in a breath as the scent of her perfume swept over him.

  She smelled the same—a mix of vanilla, honeysuckle, and home.

  He didn’t let himself wonder if she felt the same. No, he’d blown his chances of that ever happening again a long time ago. Still, he couldn’t help but drop his gaze to her long, tanned legs or notice the way her breasts spilled over the snug, corseted vest of the pirate costume.

  “So, what’s with the outfit?” he asked as he slid into the driver’s seat and put the car in gear.

  She blew out her breath in an exaggerated sigh. A loose tendril of hair clung to her damp forehead, and he was tempted to reach across the seat to brush it back.

  “It’s Max’s birthday today,” she said, as if that explained everything.

  He didn’t say anything—didn’t know what to say.

  The subject of Max always was a bit of an awkward one between them. After he’d left, he’d heard the rumors of how Quinn had hooked up with a hick loser named Monty Hill who’d lived one town over. She’d met him at a party and it had been a rebound one-night stand, designed to make him pay for breaking things off with her, if the gossip was true.

  But she’d been the one to pay. Her impulse retaliation had ended in an unplanned pregnancy with another jerk who couldn’t be counted on to stick around for her. Hill had taken off, and Quinn had ended up staying at her family’s ranch.

  “He’s eight now.” Her voice held the steely tone of anger, but he heard the hint of pride that also crept in.

  “I know,” he mumbled, more to himself than to her. “So, you decided to dress up like a pirate for his birthday?”

  She snorted. “No. Of course not. One of Max’s favorite books is Treasure Island, and he wanted a pirate-themed party, so I hired a party company to send out a couple of actors to dress up like pirates. The outfits showed up this morning, but the actors didn’t. Evidently, there was a mix-up in the office, and the couple had been double-booked and were already en route to Denver when I called.”

  “So you decided to fill in.” He tried to hold back his grin.

  She shrugged. “What else was I going to do?”

  “That doesn’t explain the bike.”

  “The bike is his main gift. I ordered it from the hardware store in town, but it was late and we weren’t expecting it to come in today. They called about an hour ago and said it had shown up, but they didn’t have anyone to deliver it. I was already in the pirate getup, so I ran into town to get it.”

  “And decided to ride it home?”

  “Yes, smart-ass. I thought it would be fun to squeeze onto a tiny bike dressed in a cheap Halloween costume and enjoy the bright, sunny day by riding home.” She blew out another exasperated breath. “My stupid car broke down on the main road.”

  “Why didn’t you call Ham or Logan to come pick you up?” he asked, referring to her dad and her older brother.

  “Because in my flustered state of panic about having to fill in as the pirate princess and the fear that the party would be ruined, I left my phone on the dresser when I ran out of the house. I was carrying the dang bike, but it got so heavy, then I tried pushing it, and that was killing my back, so I thought it would be easier and faster if I just tried to ride it the last mile back to the ranch.”

  “Makes sense to me.” He slowed the car, turning into the long driveway of Rivers Gulch. White fences lined the drive, and several head of cattle grazed on the fresh green grass of the pastures along either side of the road.

  The scent of recently mown hay skimmed the air, mixed with the familiar smells of plowed earth and cattle.

  Seeing the sprawling ranch house and the long, white barn settled something inside of him, and he let out a slow breath, helping to ease the tension in his neck. He’d practically grown up here, running around this place with Quinn and her brother, Logan.

  Their families’ ranches were within spitting distance of each other; in fact, he could see the farmhouse of the Triple J across the pasture to his left. They were separated only by prime grazing land and the pond that he’d learned to swim in during the summer and skate on in the winter.

  The two families had an ongoing feud—although he wasn’t sure any of them really knew what they were fighting about anymore, and the kids had never cared much about it anyway.

  The adults liked to bring it up, but they were the only kids around for miles, and they’d become fast friends—he and his brothers sneaking over to Rivers Gulch as often as they could.

  This place felt just as much like home as his own did. He’d missed it. In the years since he’d left, he’d been back only a handful of times.

  His life had become so busy, his hockey career taking up most of his time. And after what happened with Quinn, neither Ham nor Logan was ever too excited to see him. Her mom had died when she was in grade school, and both men had always been overprotective of her.

  He snuck a glance at her as he drove past the barn. Her wavy hair was pulled back in a ponytail, but wisps of it had come loose and fell across her neck in little curls. She looked good—really good. A thick chunk of regret settled in his gut, and he knew letting her go had been the biggest mistake of his life.

  It wasn’t the first time he’d thought it. Images of Quinn haunted his dreams, and he often wondered what it would be like now if only he’d brought her with him instead of leaving her behind. If he had her to wave to in the stands at his games or to come home to at night instead of an empty house. But he’d screwed that up, and he felt the remorse every time he returned to Rivers Gulch.

  He’d been young and a
rrogant—thought he had the world by the tail. Scouts had come sniffing around when he was in high school, inflating his head and his own self-importance. And once he started playing in the big leagues, everything about this small town—including Quinn—had just seemed…well…small. Too small for a big shot like him.

  He was just a kid—and an idiot. But by the time he’d realized his mistake and come back for her, it was too late.

  Hindsight was a mother.

  And so was Quinn.

  Easing the car in front of the house, he took in the festive balloons and streamers tied to the railings along the porch. So much of the house looked the same—the long porch that ran the length of the house, the wooden rocking chairs, and the swing hanging from the end.

  They’d spent a lot of time on that swing, talking and laughing, his arm around her as his foot slowly pushed them back and forth.

  She opened the car door, but he put a hand on her arm and offered her one of his most charming smiles. “It’s good to see you, Quinn. You look great. Even in a pirate outfit.”

  Her eyes widened, and she blinked at him, for once not having a sarcastic reply. He watched her throat shift as she swallowed, and he yearned to reach out to run his fingers along her slender neck.

  “Well, thanks for the lift.” She turned away and stepped out of the car.

  Pushing open his door, he got out and reached for the bicycle, lifting it out of the back seat before she had a chance. He carried it around and set it on the ground in front of her. “I’d like to meet him. You know, Max. If that’s okay.”

  “You would?” Her voice was soft, almost hopeful, but still held a note of suspicion. “Why?”

  He ran a hand through his hair and let out a sigh. He’d been rehearsing what he was going to say as they drove up to the ranch, but now his mouth had gone dry. The collar of his cotton T-shirt clung to his neck, and he didn’t know what to do with his hands.

  Dang. He hadn’t had sweaty palms since he was in high school. He wiped them on his jeans. He was known for his charm and usually had a way with women, but not this woman. This one had him tongue-tied and nervous as a teenager.

  He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Listen, Quinn. I know I screwed up. I was young and stupid and a damn fool. And I’m sorrier than I could ever say. But I can’t go back and fix it. All I can do is move forward. I miss this place. I miss having you in my life. I’d like to at least be your friend.”

  She opened her mouth, and he steeled himself for her to tell him to go jump in the lake. Or worse. But she didn’t. She looked up at him, her eyes searching his face, as if trying to decide if he was serious. “Why now? After all these years?”

  He shrugged, his gaze drifting as he stared off at the distant green pastures. He’d let this go on too long, let the hurt fester. It was time to make amends—to at least try. He looked back at her, trying to express his sincerity. “Why not? Isn’t it about time?”

  She swallowed again and gave a small nod of her head.

  A tiny flicker of hope lit in his gut as he waited for her response. He could practically see her thinking—watch the emotions cross her face in the furrow of her brow and the way she chewed on her bottom lip. Oh man, he loved it when she did that; the way she sucked her bottom lip under her front teeth always did crazy things to his insides.

  “Okay. We can try being friends.” She gave him a sidelong glance, the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “On one condition.”

  Uh-oh. Conditions are never good. Although he would do just about anything to prove to her that he was serious about being in her life again.

  “What’s that?”

  “I need someone to be the other pirate for the party. I already asked Logan if he would wear the other costume, and he refused. I was planning to ask Dad, but I have a feeling I’ll get the same response.”

  He tried to imagine Hamilton Rivers in a pirate outfit and couldn’t. Ham was old-school cowboy, tough as nails and loyal to the land. He wore his boots from sunup to sundown and had more grit than a sheet of sandpaper. The only soft spot he had was for his daughter. And Rock had broken her heart.

  If there hadn’t been enough animosity between the two families over their land before, Rock had sealed the feud by walking away from Quinn.

  And now he had a chance to try to make it up to her. And to keep an eight-year-old kid from being disappointed. Even if it meant making a fool of himself.

  He squinted one eye closed and tilted his head. If he was going to do it, might as well do it right.

  Go big or go home.

  “Aye, lass,” he said in his best gruff pirate impression. “I’ll be a pirate for ye, but don’t cross me, or I’ll make ye walk the plank.”

  Her eyes widened, and she laughed before she could stop herself. An actual laugh. Well, more like a small chuckle, but it was worth it. He’d talk in a pirate accent all afternoon if it meant he could hear her laugh again.

  She took a step forward, reached out her hand as if to touch his arm, then let it drop to her side. “All right, Captain Jack, you don’t have to go that far.” She might not have touched him, but she offered him a grin—a true grin.

  Yeah, he could be a pirate. He could be whatever she needed. Or he could dang well try.

  The front door slammed open with a bang, and Quinn jumped. As if on cue, her brother stepped out on the front porch.

  Anger sparked in Logan’s eyes as he glared at Rock. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  Caught Up in a Cowboy

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  About the Author

  Jennie Marts is the USA Today bestselling author of award-winning books filled with love, laughter, and always a happily-ever-after. Readers call her books “laugh-out-loud” funny and the “perfect mix of romance, humor, and steam.” Fic Central claimed one of her books was “the most fun I’ve had reading in years.”

  She is living her own happily-ever-after in the mountains of Colorado with her husband, two dogs, and a parakeet who loves to tweet to the oldies. She’s addicted to Diet Coke, adores Cheetos, and believes you can’t have too many books, shoes, or friends.

  Her books include the contemporary western romances of the Cowboys of Creedence and the Hearts of Montana series, the cozy mysteries of the Page Turners series, the hunky hockey-playing men in the Bannister Brothers books, and the small-town romantic comedies in the Cotton Creek Romance series.

  Jennie loves to hear from readers.

  Connect online:

  jenniemarts.com

  Facebook | Twitter

  Lucky Chance Cowboy

  In Teri Anne Stanley’s Big Chance Dog Rescue series, everyone can find a forever home…

  Emma Stern is barely scraping by while working and caring for her elderly grandfather, but she’s running out of options—and hope. The last thing she has time for is Marcus Talbott and his flirting, sexy as he might be. But every time Emma thinks she’s reached the end of her rope, Marcus is there to lend a hand. Maybe there’s more to the handsome playboy after all…

  “A real page-turner with a sexy cowboy, a sassy heroine, and a dog that brings them together.”

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