by Kate Kisset
“Wonder how many Band-Aids Mom used, patching up those two.”
“I should’ve bought stock in the company.” He chuckled, and then took his first bite of lunch.
“Probably should have,” she said, catching sight of a jack rabbit in the distance. She watched the bunny pause, check out the surroundings, and then dash off into the trees. They chit chatted through lunch talking about nothing, until the suspense was killing her. “Well?” Mariah asked, closing the lid on her half-eaten meal. How was she supposed to eat with her stomach clenching in anticipation of whatever was coming next? “What’s on your mind?”
“My mind and Bob’s, you might say.” He zeroed in on her and stashed his empty lunch box back in the bag. The air around them seemed to change, signaling a warning. “I was going to ask Thomas over for dinner tomorrow night but wanted your permission first, because I’d like you to be there.”
“Dinner here, with Bob and Thomas? Sure, fine with me.” She smiled, not sure what the big deal was about. “I don’t have to have dinner at Dream Maker. Reviewing isn’t a nine-to-five job. I can come and go whenever.”
Her dad eyed her, taking an extra-long swig of water.
Thomas and Bob? This tete-a-tete in the gazebo was about hosting the Bishops? They’d been over a million times for dinner. At a loss, Mariah couldn’t come up with one reason why her dad needed to discuss this conversation privately. “I mean, if Thomas wants to come over, and you want to see him, sure, invite him.”
“But it’s not me Thomas wants to see, honey. It’s you.”
Mariah sipped her beer, analyzing her dad’s demeanor. “Hold on. You and Bob aren’t trying to set me up, are you?” Bob Bishop was her father’s best friend, and now that they’d both lost their wives, they were inseparable. “Because if you are, it isn’t going to work, and Thomas won’t appreciate being roped into some sort of matchmaking scheme either.”
“On the contrary,” Jamison shushed. “He will. Now, relax and hear me out.”
“Oh boy.” Mariah gulped her beer. “I think you need to go back to work or find a hobby. You definitely have too much time on your hands, and so does Bob, for that matter.”
“Too little time, darlin’, and that’s the problem.” His voice cracked as he dropped his head in his hands, like it was all too much. Mariah set her beer down. Her heart wrenched as her father tried to hide his pain and anguish. Jamison Walker rarely showed emotion.
“Dad.” She rushed to him, draping an arm around his shoulder. “What is it?” She squatted in front of him, gently pulling his hands away from his face. “Tell me.”
Jamison straightened. His dark brown eyes bore into hers. “Bob has cancer, honey. He got the diagnosis day before yesterday.”
“Oh God no.” Mariah stroked his arm, feeling tears well up inside. Her father had already gone through so much grief. “Do you think, maybe? I mean, did they catch it in time? Is it possible, hopefully, he’ll get better?” Afraid her father would cry, she didn’t want to press and ask what kind of cancer or what stage.
“Well, he’ll try, pumpkin. He’ll do everything he can to beat it.” Jamison sighed, running a hand through his hair. “But there’s just no getting around the fact that Bob and I are in our final season.”
She gulped, scared to breathe, bracing for another bomb to drop.
“We’re not getting any younger, and we both want to make sure our children are set for the future. Thomas is Bob’s only child. You are my only girl.”
“What are you getting at?” Mariah whispered.
Jamison pointed to the ridgeline in the distance where the Bishop and Walker properties met. “Bob has four hundred acres. Pair those with mine, and you’ve got yourself a nice piece of contiguous property no one can mess with. Not easily anyway.”
“I’m not sure I’m following you.”
“If you and Thomas were married, you could combine the land. Your brothers, of course, would keep their ranches exactly where they are now. Everything would stay pretty much as is, but you, darlin’, you’d hold the deed with Thomas jointly.”
Every drop of moisture Mariah had left in her mouth vanished. She gawked at her father, feeling the tension from her neck shoot a million daggers down her spine.
“Don’t look so surprised. It’s about time you settled down. You’ve had your fun wandering all over God’s green earth. You’re home now. Maybe it’s time for you to stay here.”
“Dad.” The word came out as a long breath. Instead of letting loose a string of swear words, she reminded herself to think carefully about what she said next, and then—“Are you out of your ever-lovin’ mind?” She scrambled to her feet. “What do you think this is, the dark ages? You’re trying to set me up in some kind of barbaric, arranged-marriage?”
“Please, sit down. I’m doing no such thing. I’d just like to see you settled.”
She plopped into her chair and took another long swig of her beer, but it wasn’t nearly enough to settle her nerves. “It’s like you think you can sell me off like a side of beef or something.”
“Are you finished having your tizzy fit?”
Mariah moaned, shaking her head. “This is sooo not what I expected to hear today, Dad.”
“Surprises can be good. Thomas is a fine young man. You’re already on a friendly basis with him. I’d like us to all share a meal together tomorrow night. It will give you both the chance to see if something can’t become more serious between you two. It would bring me comfort to know you tried and kept an open mind. Can you do that for me?”
Mariah thought she was going to throw up after chugging the beer so fast. What was she supposed to say? Her father was going through so much, and poor Bob.
Poor Thomas, for that matter. She had a sneaky feeling he had no idea what their fathers were planning. Who knew? Maybe they’d have a good laugh about it someday. “Sure, Dad. I’ll give it the old college try.”
“Well, you’re going to have to do better than that.” Her dad laughed. “You know damn well you never went to college.”
ON THE WAY BACK TO Dream Maker, Mariah hit speed dial in a full sweat. Aves picked up on the second ring.
“How’s it going over there?”
“I just left a few minutes ago. Can you be ready? My afternoon did not go well.”
“Is it your dad’s heart?”
Mariah shifted in her seat and rolled down the windows. “In a matter of speaking, yes, I guess.” She let out a long breath. “I mean, his heart is in the right place. But he has some kooky plan to hook me up with his best friend’s son, which is absolutely not going to work.”
Aves gasped. “Yikes. That’s bad, bad, bad.”
“I know, but Dad’s going through a lot. His friend is sick . . .” She shook her head. “I don’t want to get into it now, but it’s just dinner, so I’m going to go with the flow tomorrow night. But I am more than ready for a strong cocktail.”
“I’m in. I’ll be in front of the main building in five with my boots on.”
“I’ll pick you up and we’ll go straight to The Owl. I need to let off some steam.”
Chapter Ten
BUCKLE BUNNIES AND Kmart cowboys in Stetsons lined the dark-paneled walls of the only decent bar in Lonesome. Colt was beginning to think locals and quiet nights at The Owl were a thing of the past. So far, he didn’t recognize anyone in the place.
He scanned the packed tavern for Mariah, hearing Garth Brooks croon “Friends in Low Places” from the jukebox. Keeping his eyes peeled, he sauntered to the massive cherrywood bar. Linda Anderson, The Owl’s pretty owner, bought the building after her father died, and lived in an apartment above the bar. She was busy with a customer, so Colt kept his distance, not wanting to interrupt.
The place was a home away from home for the Becketts. Before Boone’s US tour, he’d played there for three months perfecting the show, sending Linda’s profit margins into the stratosphere.
Linda collected the money from her customer and hit a butt
on on the old-fashioned register. The drawer clanged open, and she shoved a few bucks into one of the slots and slammed the drawer shut. Linda brushed her brown bangs to the side and looked for her next customer. When she spotted Colt, she hurried over, smiling.
“How’s it going over there, Mr. Dream Maker?”
“Opening week for the press is so far, so good.” He leaned over the bar and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
“Always the charmer, Colt. You think I’d be used to you by now.” She grinned, blushing three shades of pink. “Thanks for VIP invite. I tried to make it over, but I’m just so swamped here.”
“Dream Maker will be waiting whenever you have a little free time. Just let me know, and I’ll set you up.” Feeling the weight of people behind him, Colt turned and checked the packed crowd. “Looks like everyone in Montana’s here.”
She laughed, adjusting her ponytail. “I can’t complain. People come from all over just to see the place where Harlan and Boone Beckett got their start. What can I get you, Colt? The usual?”
“Sure. Sounds good, thanks.” Colt leaned against the bar and rested an elbow on the counter. He scanned for Mariah again but couldn’t see past the wall of plaid shirts in front of him.
“Here you go,” Linda said, placing a bottle a beer on the dark wood with a clunk. “Let me know if you need anything else, okay?”
“Will do. Thanks.” He tipped the bottle to her. She nodded with a grin and hurried to the other end of the bar.
Colt enjoyed a long swig of the cold brew, trying to remember the last time he snuck away from work. He took a moment to savor his drink then grabbed the bottle and made room for the next customer.
Wedging and angling through the crowd, he finally found a place to breathe off to the side of Linda’s new mechanical bull.
A raucous crowd surrounded it, and the low hum of the bull’s motor hummed and squeaked. The crowd of male voices hooted and hollered, letting out low, animalistic growls. Whoever was riding that thing was putting on a show.
Chase Rice’s “Ready Set Roll” kicked up on the jukebox. When the group exploded with another wild cheer, curiosity got the better of him.
Colt took another sip of beer and slid sideways through the crowd to see what was causing all the excitement. And became transfixed on the sight of Mariah. In a skirt. Aves stood to the side, shouting and giggling, egging her on
Riding that thing slow and easy, with her legs spread and back arched, Mariah held onto the horn, laughing. She seemed oblivious to the crowd.
Colt’s cock lurched. Now wide awake, it pressed against his jeans, like it wanted out for a better look. Every part of him tensed with desire.
He didn’t like losing control like this, not in public. Not when he was just one in a crowd watching from a distance, and not when it was Mariah he was watching.
He swallowed thickly and took another slug, getting a grip on his composure. The men were practically drooling over her, making no bones about the way they felt, in that overly familiar way cavemen sometimes do.
“Are her nipples hard? That’s all I want to know,” some drunk Neanderthal called out. The idiots around him laughed. “I sure would like her to ride me like that,” he shouted, “although she needs to spread her legs wider to take me.”
Colt steadied his breath as anger pulsed through his veins. He clenched his fist and gripped his bottle, threatening to break it in half.
“Oh, baby, ride that thing,” the guy jeered.
His eyes flew to Mariah, making sure she was still safe on the bull.
“Come on, baby, ride!” the idiot heckled again.
Even though it wasn’t the lewdest comment he’d heard from the caveman, Colt snapped. He set his beer down and wrestled his way through the group, finally reaching the asshole and grabbing him by the collar. “What the fuck did you say?”
“What?” The guy, who must’ve been in his late twenties, around his age, jumped back like he’d stepped on a nail. But Colt hung on to his shirt.
“You heard me,” he growled.
“She—she was putting on a show.” Reeking of beer, the dude pointed to the bull. “She likes it.”
“Really?” Colt snarled, seeing all red, hating that the slob had even looked at Mariah, never mind made such degrading comments. He adjusted his grip on the collar and started walking the man backward until they reached the wall.
Colt backed him up against it. “Did you ask her if she likes it? Did you get her permission to talk about her that way? Are you even aware of what the fuck you’re doing with that pea-sized brain of yours?”
“Well, she sho—”
“Don’t.” Colt clenched his teeth, wanting so badly to smash his face in. He simmered, waiting for the urge to pass. He’d never thrown the first punch in his life. Then again, he’d never been this pissed. “Time for you to leave.” He’d settle for getting the man out of his sight.
The guy tried to push him off, but he was weak and out of shape. By the terror in his eyes, Colt guessed he’d never been this close to being clocked. “Push me again, and I’ll flatten you.”
The man held up his hands, sneering at him with beady bloodshot eyes. “Shit, man, I was just having a little fun.”
“Did you hear what I said?”
The man raised his hands, nodding. “Okay, okay...”
“Good, now let’s move.” Colt wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “We’re going to walk out of here and you’re not going to make a scene.” The crowd that had gathered around them parted, giving them a path to the door.
“Christ, this town sucks,” the guy shouted.
“Then you won’t mind never coming back,” Colt barked as he escorted the thug through the packed room. He stopped by the bar and waited to catch Linda’s eye.
She hurried over as soon as she saw him. “That guy making trouble? Bobby!” she called to the front door, and her beefy bouncer meandered over. He must’ve been a new hire because Colt didn’t know him.
“Is there a problem, Miss Linda?” Bobby probably weighed three hundred pounds but sounded like a pussycat.
Linda pointed to the guy Colt still had by the shoulders.
“I’m sorry I’m not getting to escort you out myself,” he hissed, before passing the twerp to the bouncer.
“C’mon, buddy, you’re leaving.” The doorman led him out by the collar. Colt waited to see the front door open and light from the street pour into the building, making sure the idiot was really leaving. In seconds, Bobby and the caveman disappeared out the door.
“What did he do?” Linda asked, leaning over the bar. “Is there a mess I need to take care of? Broken bottles? Bashed-in furniture?” She furrowed her brows.
“No. Don’t worry, nothing’s broken, but he was being disrespectful to a lady.”
Another wave of jeers sounded from the bull area in the main room.
“Was she on the bull?”
Colt nodded, and Linda shook her head. “That thing has been nothing but trouble. Thanks for taking care of it.”
“No problem,” he said and took off to check on Mariah.
He squeezed his way back into the jammed, stuffy room and thankfully saw someone else on the bull. Colt spotted Aves dancing near the jukebox with a friend he knew from high school.
But where was Mariah? He searched the room, saw Mariah’s white hat in the corner, and found her surrounded by three guys. Red-hot jealousy raged through him. What the hell was happening to him?
Dream Maker needed support from the community. He’d just been inches away from brawling in a bar, in his hometown where everyone and their second cousin knew him. Was the next stop a ride in a police car? A mug shot? Where had Mr. Calm, Cool, and Collected gone?
He’d rarely been with Mariah outside of family events. Of course, she’d always been a beauty, and an attention-grabber since a teenager. Men couldn’t help being drawn to her. The woman was honey. Pure honey, and guys were swarming her like hornets.
He strode over, cut
ting through the crowd, making a path straight to her. Her eyes locked on his and she smiled, and nothing else in the bar existed.
“You made it!” she said, apparently unaware of what transpired with the thug.
“Did you miss me?” He possessively came in close, cutting her off from anyone else. One of the men who’d been talking to her looked like he wanted to argue. Colt gave him a firm, she’s-mine-back-off sneer.
“I did,” she whispered. Getting up on tiptoes, she skimmed his ear with her lips, sending sparks undulating through him.
He wrapped an arm around her, bringing her closer, feeling her breasts rub against his chest.
“You want to dance?” She gave him a sizzling, seductive grin.
“It’ll do for a start.”
He checked around them for anyone he knew. Lonesome was loaded with gossips. If he didn’t play his cards right, word about them being together would get out. By the time Pearl served up her pecan waffles at breakfast, they’d be the talk of the town at the diner. Positive everyone around them was a stranger and most likely from out of town, he walked her to a dark corner of the dance floor.
She melted against him, relaxed and languid as her intoxicating scent washed over him. Colt held her, rocking her and closed his eyes. “You feel so good,” he whispered, nuzzling behind her ear.
Mariah pressed a kiss to his cheek. Her lips were like embers and he smoldered under the touch, keenly tuned in to her every move. One hand was on his shoulder the other was running up and down his thigh, setting off a chain of no-going-back reactions.
“I take it you’re not afraid of Wyatt seeing us?”
“He’s at your dad’s tonight. He’ll never know. Besides, I’m behaving myself. We’re enjoying a perfectly respectable friendly dance.”
“With your hand sliding up my skirt?”
“Okay, an extra-friendly dance. You’re so beautiful, Mariah, I can’t keep my hands off you.” He stroked her silky leg just where the fabric of her skirt ended, dying to inch up into her panties. “What were you doing riding that bull in this skirt out there? You trying to cause a fire?”
