Cowboy Charming

by Dylann Crush

  “That settles it.”

  “What?”

  He held his arms out wide. “I’m your guy.”

  “Presley, stop joking.”

  “I’m not joking. I’ve been thinking about things for a long time. I want the same things you want.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “Hey, is it so hard to believe that I want to settle down?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Because…because you’re Presley Walker. You don’t have a serious bone in your body.”

  “Aw, come on. Did you know the human body has two hundred six bones? There’s got to be at least one serious one in there.”

  “See?”

  “What about this one?” He held up his pinky finger. “Think this one can be serious?”

  She shook her head. Her breasts jiggled.

  “Damn, you keep that up, and I guarantee you there’s going to be a serious boner going on.”

  “Oh my gosh. You’re horrible. My gram could walk in at any moment.”

  “Nah, she went over to Maybelle’s.” He nestled her bare feet between his boots.

  “You liar. I heard her say she was going back to the pond.”

  Presley circled his arms around her waist. “Let your gram have her little bit of fun, and maybe she’ll stay away long enough for us to have ours.”

  Her arms went around his neck. “I can’t believe I’m actually considering this.”

  He pulled back, meeting her gaze. “Give me a chance, Dixie. I want to try this.”

  “I don’t want to be a test case, some experiment you want to try out then get tired of and—”

  His lips pressed to hers, silencing her concerns. “You’re not. And you don’t have to believe me right now. But you will. Because I’m going to show you I’m serious. You’re going to get so sick of me being serious you’re going to beg me to crack a joke.”

  She smiled at that. “Okay.”

  “Okay? Really?” His hands played up and down her rib cage. The damn-thin-cotton nightshirt clung to her curves, making him wish they didn’t have a full day of work ahead of them.

  “But what about my date with Chandler tonight?”

  Presley’s gut wrenched into a knot. He’d temporarily forgotten about that. “Can you cancel?”

  “I just confirmed this morning. If it’s our best shot at getting any information we can, then I want to move forward.”

  “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea. Maybe we could send someone else instead.”

  Dixie shook her head. “I want to go. For Charlie, for the Rose, for you.”

  “Yeah”—he nodded—“you’re right. It’s our best shot. But I’m not going to be happy knowing you’re out with SoCal while I’m sitting at home.”

  “Oh, you won’t be. Remember, you said you’d take Gram and Mrs. Mitchell to bingo tonight.”

  “It was a weak moment,” Presley protested.

  “They’re looking forward to it. It’s the highlight of their week.”

  “All right. Starts at seven?”

  “That’s right. But they like to get there a little early so they can set out all of their lucky charms. I’d leave around six fifteen.”

  “Done deal. Now, back to the idea of giving us a shot. You in?”

  “I hope I don’t regret this.” She rested her forehead on his chest.

  He ran a hand over her hair, trying to convey the levity of the moment through his touch. He hadn’t seen this thing with Dixie coming—it had knocked him over like a stampede of cattle, leaving his head rattling and his brain spinning. But he knew she was the one. He’d never fallen so fast, so furious, so fearlessly for someone before. She made him want to be all the things she needed. All the things she wanted. All the things he wasn’t.

  “I promise you, Fireball. You won’t regret this.”

  Then he leaned down and cemented his promise with a kiss.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Dixie adjusted her skirt then crossed and recrossed her ankles. She’d just started examining a strand of hair for split ends when Gram sat down on the settee next to her.

  “What’s going on, Dixie Mae?” Gram set a hand on Dixie’s arm. “You’re about as jumpy as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs.”

  “I know. It’s this date with Chandler.”

  “Chandler? I thought you and Presley finally got your heads out of your butts and decided to start dating.”

  “It’s complicated. Presley thinks Chandler has some connection to the people trying to buy Kermit’s land. We’re hoping that if I can get him talking he might spill the beans so we can figure out what’s going on.”

  Gram’s brow knit together. “And how do you expect to do that?”

  Dixie laughed. “That’s the best part. Presley expects me to use my feminine wiles.”

  “No offense, sugar, but do you have a plan B?”

  Groaning, Dixie got to her feet to peer out the giant front window. “Plan B is to get Chandler drunk and hope he starts talking.”

  Gram came up behind her and put a hand on her shoulder. “I think plan B is your best shot.”

  “Thanks, Gram.” Dixie shook her head. The evening was doomed before it had begun. Even Gram knew Dixie didn’t have what it would take to sweet-talk Chandler into divulging any info.

  “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “No. Just keep Presley out of my way. The last thing I need is for him to get a wild hair and show up during my date.”

  “Maybelle and I will do our best. Why, I can’t wait to walk in for bingo on Presley Walker’s arm. The women in the guild will turn green with envy.”

  “Go easy on him, okay, Gram? I don’t think he’s ever been to bingo before in his life. You’d better go get ready. He’s supposed to be picking you up at six fifteen.”

  Gram turned away from the window and moved into the kitchen. It would take her at least fifteen minutes to gather all of her supplies. Dixie had watched her go through the routine countless times. First she’d test all of the bingo daubers she kept in the kitchen drawer. Then she’d pick the three with the best stamp. Next she’d move on to her lucky charms, which, depending on the night, might consist of a rabbit’s foot, a pressed flower from the garden, even a stuffed animal. Dixie smiled as she imagined Presley among Gram’s bingo ladies.

  Speaking of Presley, why was he pulling up in front of the house? He wasn’t supposed to be picking up Gram and Maybelle for another twenty minutes. She’d hoped she and Chandler would be long gone by the time he rolled in.

  She met him on the screened-in porch. “What are you doing here?”

  He pulled her into his arms and crushed his mouth to hers. Her knees buckled as his tongue swirled around hers, making her wish she was spending the evening doing exactly this instead of heading out on a fake date.

  Once he’d kissed her breathless, he set her back on her feet. “Just wanted to stop by and wish you good luck on your date.”

  She put a hand to his chest and pushed him away. “And how am I supposed to go out on a date now that you’ve got my brain scrambled like a pan of eggs?”

  “I didn’t want you to forget about me while you’re out with SoCal.”

  Forget about him? The idea that she’d ever let herself forget about the way he made her feel went beyond ludicrous.

  “I could never forget about you.” To prove her point she rose to her tiptoes and pressed a sweet kiss to his lips. “But now I’ve got to go fix my lipstick since you got me all smeared.”

  He followed her to the guest bathroom and leaned against the doorframe while she wiped her remaining lipstick off with a tissue.

  “You want to come over tonight after your date? I wouldn’t mind smearing your lipstick some more. Plus that would give us a chance to talk ab
out what you find out while it’s still fresh in your head.”

  She lined her lips the way Liza had shown her. Peering into the mirror and applying her makeup while Presley watched seemed intimate in a way. She liked it.

  “I’m pretty sure my date will be over long before you get home with Gram and Maybelle. We’re only going to dinner. Bingo lasts all night, especially if they talk you into staying for the final blackout session.”

  Presley’s eyes narrowed. “What exactly did I sign up for?”

  “Don’t worry. You’re going to have a good time. I can’t believe I’m saying it, but I’d rather go play bingo with you tonight than have dinner with Chandler, even if he is taking me to the Farley Inn.”

  “Make sure you order the most expensive thing on the menu. Whatever it is, get two of them. And lots of drinks. Keep the drinks coming for him. They’ll loosen his tongue.” He nodded. “I don’t suppose you want to wear a wire?”

  She laughed. “A wire? Don’t you think you’re taking this a little too far? Besides, do you even have a wire?”

  “No.” His head dipped. “But you could keep me on speakerphone all night so I could keep tabs on what’s going on.”

  She finished with her lipstick and tucked the tube back in her purse. He made a move to kiss her again, but she turned her head and gave him a peck on the cheek instead. “Don’t you dare mess up my lipstick again. Stop worrying—I’ve got this.”

  The doorbell rang.

  “You stay here. I’ll get him out of here as quick as I can, okay?”

  Presley nodded, looking like a dejected puppy.

  “Oh stop it.” Dixie tapped on his chest. “You know I’ll be thinking about you all night.”

  His face lit up. “You sure I can’t give you one more kiss? One more thing for you to be thinking about?”

  “Behave. Now stay here in the bathroom until I’m gone, okay?”

  Presley nuzzled her neck with his mouth. “You drive a hard bargain, Ms. King.”

  Her body revved like it always did when Presley made contact with her skin. The doorbell rang again, and she reluctantly pushed him away.

  “Stay here.” She put her palm up, the universal sign for “wait and don’t screw things up.” Then she rushed to the door where Gram stood, already inviting Chandler into the living room.

  “I’m sure y’all have time for a glass of sweet tea before you go.” Gram gestured to the settee.

  “Actually, Gram, we don’t. I think Chandler made a reservation at the Farley Inn, and we don’t want to miss it.” Dixie adjusted the strap of her purse on her shoulder.

  “I’m sure I can move it back a little. They probably don’t have a huge crowd on a Monday night. You look lovely tonight.” Chandler leaned forward, and Dixie realized he was about to attempt a quick kiss. She made sure he caught her cheek.

  “Thank you, so do you.” She gave him a quick once-over. The flat-front khakis, loafers, and white polo shirt gave him that all-American vibe. “Gram, you don’t have time for a glass of tea anyway. Don’t you have to finish getting ready for bingo?”

  “That’s right. Is Presley here? I thought I heard his voice a few minutes ago.” Gram looked around, missing Dixie’s desperate silent signals to drop it.

  “That obnoxious Jeep is parked on the street.” Chandler gestured to the door.

  “Maybe he’s next door at Mrs. Mitchell’s,” Dixie said. “Why don’t you walk over and see if she’s ready to go?” She glared at Gram, trying to give a subtle nod in the direction of the bathroom.

  “Oh, all right.” Gram bustled back to the kitchen, hopefully to grab her things.

  “Ready?” Dixie asked, eager to get Chandler out of the house. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to go through with the evening if she had to deal with the two men in the same room.

  “Let’s.” Chandler moved to the front door and pulled it open.

  Gram’s voice came from down the hallway. “Well, Presley! There you are. Where have you been hiding?”

  Dixie groaned inside. She’d have to set Gram down sometime and have a conversation about reading body language. Before she could shove Chandler through the door, Gram came down the hall, toting Presley behind her by the arm.

  “Look who I found.” Gram beamed like she’d just discovered buried treasure.

  Chandler turned from the door. “Walker.”

  Presley gave a tight-lipped smile. “Bristol.”

  Dixie’s gaze bounced between them. Chandler’s head tilted a smidge. Her stomach churned as she noticed what probably brought on the confused look on his face. It had to be the perfect set of pink lip prints pasted onto Presley’s scruffy cheek. She gaped at Presley.

  “What?” He shifted his weight from foot to foot, aware something was off but not aware enough to play it off on his own.

  “Gram, did you leave lipstick on poor Presley’s cheek?” Dixie searched her purse for a tissue. Finding none, she settled for a wet wipe they handed out to customers who ordered the ribs at the Rose. She handed it to him.

  He reached for it and plastered on a smile. “Eugenia, honey, I told you if you keep that up I won’t be able to find my next girlfriend. If y’all will excuse me for a minute?”

  Gram stood there, her expression a mix of resignation and surprise. “Well, I just can’t help myself. Call me a cougar, I guess.”

  A bubble of hysterical laughter threatened to spill through Dixie’s clenched lips. She needed to get Chandler out of there, and the sooner the better. “We’d better get going.”

  “Y’all have a nice time tonight.” Gram waved as Dixie led Chandler through the door.

  Not sure how she was going to survive the evening, Dixie linked her arm with his. She could pretend he was Presley and this was their first date. Maybe that would make things go a little smoother. But a side glance to Chandler’s baby-soft cheeks confirmed pretending would be impossible. Chandler was too clean-cut, too West Coast charm. Presley was rough and tumble and wildly inappropriate…all the things she’d never thought she’d be attracted to in a man.

  The best she could do was get the information they needed and get through dinner as quickly as possible. Then she and Presley could come up with a plan to save the Rose and hopefully start something of their own.

  * * *

  “Bingo!” Mrs. Mitchell’s hand flew into the air, clutching the flimsy sheet of bingo cards.

  Presley was still searching for O-71 on his one sheet of cards, and the caller had announced that one two numbers ago.

  One of the bingo helpers came to the table to check Mrs. Mitchell’s card. He ran his finger down each row. “That’s a good bingo. Congratulations.”

  “You’re on a roll, Maybelle.” Genie gathered the cards from the last game and slid them into the middle of the table where a huge stack of newsprint bingo cards were piled up. “How are you doing, Presley?”

  He rubbed a hand over his chin while he shook his head. “I don’t know how y’all do it. I’ve got one sheet to keep track of, and you’re both playing three.”

  Mrs. Mitchell snickered. “Don’t worry, you’ll get it. By the time we leave tonight, you’ll be a pro.”

  “I don’t think so. I’m going to sit this game out.” He pushed back from the table, his metal chair making a screeching sound on the linoleum floor. “I’ll be back in a few.”

  He wound his way through the packed hall to the front door. How was Dixie doing tonight? Had she managed to get SoCal to talk? He slid his phone out of his back pocket to send her a text.

  How’s it going?

  While he waited for a response, he took a turn around the building. It was the kind of night that promised rain. The clouds swirled overhead, and thunder rumbled off to the west. His thoughts immediately went to Kermit. Surely the old fool would be smart enough to realize he couldn’t stay up on a metal roof during
a thunderstorm.

  Presley’s phone vibrated.

  Not well. He’s had one drink and isn’t talking.

  Damn. He should have invited Chandler out for a poker night with the guys instead of sending him off with Dixie.

  Keep trying.

  The response came much faster this time.

  I AM trying.

  Presley’s shoulders sagged. If it were up to him, they had all the info they needed that SoCal was up to no good. But without physical proof, it would be hard to rally the residents of Holiday against him. Dixie had to get confirmation from Chandler. Otherwise there would always be that little bit of doubt in her mind.

  Just keep him at dinner and I’ll come up with something.

  He wondered if Mrs. Mitchell and Eugenia were up for a little investigative outing. It might be his only hope of proving to Dixie and everyone else that their little town was under attack.

  What are you going to do?

  He could almost hear her frustration through the text message.

  Not sure yet. But keep him away from the B&B.

  I’ve got to stop texting before he thinks something is up. Whatever you’re thinking about, DON’T DO IT.

  Presley laughed to himself. Heroes weren’t made by playing it safe. Hell, heroes weren’t made by doing something as stupid as what he was considering either. But somebody had to get to the bottom of SoCal’s intentions. Dixie wasn’t cut out for espionage. It didn’t suit her. That’s part of what attracted him to the woman in the first place: her trusting nature, her ability to believe the best about people, including himself. It wasn’t fair to put her in the situation in the first place.

  Presley?

  His phone vibrated again. He glanced at the screen then shoved it in his pocket. He’d have to figure out a way to get the two bingo mavens home safe and sound before he paid a visit to the B and B. Dixie would never forgive him if he pulled her grandma and Mrs. Mitchell into the illicit activities he was considering.

  He reentered the bingo hall. Eugenia stood and waved her arms in the air. “Get on over here, Presley.”

  As he slid into his seat, Dixie’s gram rubbed her hand over his arm. “You must be our lucky charm tonight. My numbers have been popping up all night, but as soon as you stepped out, my luck went downhill.”