No Cowboy Required (Biggest Little Love)

by Sky, JoAnn

  Maybe then she’d stay.

  He gentled the kiss, his hands framing her face. He ran a hand along her spine and down the curve of her butt cheek. He slid one hand under her knees and one behind her back, then lifted her up to carry her into the bedroom.

  “Noah, we can’t. JJ’s outside.”

  “Gracie, we can. JJ’s outside.”

  A smile spread across her face. “As long as we do it right. I want us to come together. The way we used to.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Grace turned in her bed and adjusted Noah’s dead-weight arm, attached to his dead-to-the-world sleeping body, across her stomach. They’d somehow managed to sneak out of the bedroom together and pull off dinner—and then Noah had snuck back in later through the bedroom window—without JJ figuring something was up. Or maybe he knew and didn’t care.

  Or cared too much to call it out and mess it up.

  Just like Noah and his what about…? She knew what he had been thinking. Us. Neon green paint on his forehead couldn’t have been louder. Good thing he hadn’t said it. Because her response would have been: there is no “us.”

  Except it wouldn’t have been true. And last night had proven it.

  She lay in bed, listening to his steady breathing, wishing his body didn’t feel so comfortable, so right, next to hers. She’d tried to keep her distance, though it’d been easier with 2,700 miles between them.

  Her in and out, easy-peasy plan had complicated itself into a knotted mess, one that now twisted in her stomach. Somehow, she’d come to love JJ. And everything about the ranch, even the stinky animals.

  And Noah.

  But it wasn’t enough. A life with Noah, in Reno, couldn’t possibly be enough. It hadn’t been seven years ago; Noah had been right back then, though initially she hadn’t agreed. But now her life was grander. Her life was more exciting. Her life was in New York.

  In New York, alone, with more squishy memories.

  But she’d managed through squishy memories before. She’d fought for everything she’d achieved in her new life. She wasn’t ready to throw it all away. Not now, not when she had more to do, more to prove. To her father. To herself. To Noah.

  Noah. How would he handle her leaving? A lump formed in her throat as she imagined the disappointment she’d soon see in his eyes.

  No, he’d be fine. He had his marketing company. He had JJ. He had a full life.

  And she had an art show to coordinate, hers and JJ’s. Combining their works would give the collection a unique twist. But from almost three thousand miles away, it would be impossible. She needed to be in New York as soon as possible. And she needed Spencer.

  He was the only person who could help pull this off. She scooted out from under Noah’s arm and grabbed her phone off the nightstand. Three o’clock. How badly would he kill her if she called him now, six a.m. his time? She snuck out of the bedroom and down the hallway and dialed the number.

  A bear answered the phone. “Whoever this is better have a damn good reason why you’re calling this fucking early.”

  Grace smiled to herself and slid into a kitchen chair. “And here I thought you missed me.”

  “Grace? It’s six in the morning. Time change, remember? Wait—it’s three a.m. in Reno.”

  “Yeah, I know. That new museum that asked you to be on the board, New Day—”

  “Damn, Grace, you want to talk business and not dirty? It’s six o’clock!”

  “Next time, I promise.” The obvious lie came out naturally and with a laugh. She’d forgotten how easy things were between them. “Did you accept? The board seat?”

  “Yeah, I did. And that’s the same answer you would’ve gotten from me at noon.”

  She ignored his crabbiness. “Is New Day still looking for its centerpiece exhibit?”

  “Yeah.” Spencer yawned. “Catch is, they’re looking to showcase underrepresented groups, minorities, movements, that sort of thing.”

  Fervor built in her stomach, her chest. Surged through her veins. “How about people with disabilities? They’re underrepresented.”

  “I’m not sure that’s what they had in mind, but, yeah, I guess it fits. Is your brother an artist or something?”

  She jumped up and started pacing the kitchen. “JJ’s not just an artist. He’s a kick-ass artist, and he draws from memory, Spence. His brain’s a freakin’ camera.” She was on to something. She knew it, had felt it deep down in her gut.

  “Well, it gets better. New Day has upped the ante. They’re offering a twenty-thousand dollar New York starving artist award. Part of some big grant they got.”

  She sat up, her pulse pumping. “Twenty grand, are you serious?” She could put together a display that would win the Starving Artist award. Ten for JJ, and ten for her. It wasn’t enough, but it was a start.

  “And the publicity,” Spencer added, “which is worth a hell of a lot more.”

  Spencer was right. The publicity would be huge. Winning the award would prove she was good, good enough to partner with Ricky and start their own company.

  A weight lifted from her shoulders as she realized what this all meant. She would give Noah the entire coin collection. And it wasn’t because she wanted to take care of JJ, though she did. She was doing it for herself. It’d been so long since she’d allowed herself to trust anyone. She was done with that. She would begin trusting today, starting with herself.

  “So what do you think?” Spencer yawned. “You want to present New Day with his portfolio?”

  “Larger.” Her voice bubbled with excitement. “I want to put on an art show at your opening a week from tomorrow. I’ve seen your club’s foyer. It’s huge—”

  “Let me guess. You want me to extend some invitations to the opening.”

  “Yep.” Her mind rolled back to the storyboard she’d laid out on the table the evening before. “And I want to tell your guests a story.”

  …

  Noah reached out his arm to pull Gracie closer and found an empty bed.

  Muffled voices carried through the walls. “Are you really gonna show my drawings at an art show? A real art show?”

  Art show? Yesterday it had been a sprout of an idea. One they had barely talked about. Noah sprang out of bed and threw on some jeans. He glanced from the door to the window and back again. If he went out the door, JJ would see him.

  “Yep, right next to my photos,” Gracie said. “The exhibition is me and you, no one else. And if we sell anything, we’ll split it, okay?”

  The hell with it. Noah whipped open the bedroom door and rushed down the hall.

  “Like partners?” JJ asked.

  “Like partners.”

  Noah arrived just in time to witness the partners shake hands. “What’s all this?”

  JJ’s face broke out into a jack-o-lantern smile when he saw Noah. “Good morning, sleepyhead.”

  “You knew I was in there sleeping?”

  JJ shrugged and moved on to the important stuff. “Me and Gracie are partners. She’s bringing my drawings to New York and putting them in an art show, a real one.”

  Noah’s stomach soured. He leaned against the kitchen archway for support.

  “Good morning.” Gracie flashed a too-bright smile. He tensed. “I’m glad you’re up,” she said. “I didn’t want to wake you, but I have to get into the room.” She paused. “To pack.”

  Even though Noah had known those words were coming, they shuddered through him. He crossed his arms and pinned his eyes on Gracie. “You’re leaving.”

  “My flight leaves in a couple hours. It cost me a fortune in miles.”

  “You’re leaving.” He tried to deny it even as he repeated the words.

  “I have to. The art show is a week from tomorrow,” she rushed. “Would you get in touch with Mr. Lincoln, tell him something came up and I’ll call him as soon as I can?”

  “Sure.” He searched her eyes, hoping for a glimpse of something that would tell him he’d succeeded, something that would tell him
that last night had changed her mind. Something that would tell him she was coming back.

  “You’re coming back afterward, right?” asked JJ. The kid was better than a cue card.

  The beat of silence dragged into eternity.

  After last night, how could she leave and not come back? She’d wanted him to come back to the bedroom after dinner. She’d invited him. Hell, she’d helped pull him in through the window. That wasn’t his manipulation. That was her, changing her mind. They’d save her father’s property, her home, and build it back to its former glory together.

  “Of course. Real soon.” Her voice, and Noah’s heart, cracked on the lie. “You’re in charge of the chickens, and Kiddo, until I do. In the meantime, you keep drawing, promise?”

  JJ nodded.

  Gracie bent down in front of JJ. “Your drawings are amazing. They’re going to love them in New York.”

  “I got one more for you. Finished it this morning.” He picked up a piece of paper that was facedown on the kitchen table and handed it to Gracie. “But you gotta promise to keep it for yourself.”

  Gracie’s forehead crinkled with confusion. “I promise.” She looked at the drawing. Noah watched as Gracie’s eyes widened, then filled with tears. “This one’s not from memory,” she whispered.

  Noah pushed himself off the wall and walked over, concern trumping his curiosity.

  “Sure it is,” JJ said with authority. “Some memories are in here.” He pointed to his chest, poked at his heart. “I can see it, Gracie. It just hasn’t happened yet.”

  Noah looked over Gracie’s shoulder and his chest squeezed. Gracie held a drawing of the three of them, with Socks in the background. They stood family-portrait style, smiling. Like a family.

  JJ flung himself into Gracie’s arms. He hugged her. Not just a sideways snuggle or a shoulder bump. This was an unsolicited, full-on bear hug. Gracie’s eyes squeezed shut, and tears streamed down her cheeks.

  She felt something. He was seeing the proof. Any second she would realize what she had here, what she was leaving behind.

  When JJ finally released her, Gracie sent him out to check on Kiddo, then turned toward Noah. Her glossy eyes glistened with hope. She was changing her mind, he knew it.

  “I’m leaving you the coins,” she said quietly, decisively. “It’s enough to get the ranch current, and then some.”

  He stared at her, stunned, bewildered. Devastated. He was getting everything he wanted.

  Except her.

  “I’m waiting for confirmation, but I’m pretty sure the collection is what we think it is.” Her face was blank, devoid of emotion. Her hard shell rebuilt and solid around her. “It should be just a matter of timing. You’ll need to find a buyer as soon as possible. I’m sure Mr. Wilds can help or perhaps even buy them himself.”

  Gracie avoided his gaze and excused herself to pack. He watched her walk to the bedroom, his mind replaying last night, their lovemaking, their conversations, over and over. What had he done wrong? What could he do, what could he say to stop this madness? He’d thought she’d decided to stay.

  Or maybe he hadn’t. Maybe that was why he hadn’t explicitly asked her. He hadn’t wanted to know the truth. Not last night. He’d wanted to enjoy the moment, enjoy her. Enjoy them.

  He’d wanted to pretend they had a future.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  As soon as Grace deplaned at JFK airport, she checked her phone. One message. Her heart skipped, hoping— No. Stop it, Grace. You don’t want it to be them. It was Mr. Wilds, after only one day. Was such a quick turnaround good or bad? She squeezed her stomach and braced for the information.

  “Good news, Ms. Harper. I met with your attorney today. The appraisal is in-line with your estimate, even the Seated Liberty. It’s the only coin you have from the Carson City Mint, which by itself would up its value because, as you may know, it was only in operation for twenty years. But 1873 is also the most difficult year to find. I can give you the details when we speak. You mentioned you might be interested in selling. Well, I have someone who might be interested in buying. Call me back when you have a moment to talk.”

  The estimate was accurate? That meant her father had recently gone through the list and researched what each piece might be worth. Like he knew she’d be finding it soon. Why had he left this for her? It still made no sense.

  Grace glanced at her watch. Just past six in Reno. She’d call Mr. Wilds tomorrow. But Mr. Lincoln always worked late, and she still needed to get in touch with him. She dialed his number as she walked through the airport terminal.

  “Grace, I was planning to call you tomorrow,” Mr. Lincoln said when his receptionist patched her through. “Good news on the coins.”

  “Yes, I heard. Thanks so much for your help.”

  “Anytime, you know that, dear. Are you ready to come by and get that guardianship paperwork done?”

  “Actually, there’s been a slight change of plans.”

  “Oh?”

  “Noah and I have discussed it.” She took a deep breath. “We’d like to share custody.”

  “Are you both certain? This isn’t something to be taken lightly.” His tone bordered on lecture. “This is a lifelong commitment on both your parts.”

  She’d expected this response and wasn’t offended. Mr. Lincoln was a friend and borderline father figure as much as an attorney. “Yes, we’re certain,” she responded without qualms, without doubt.

  “Well, that’s unexpected…and very good to hear.”

  She could almost hear his smile through the phone.

  “I know Noah thinks the world of JJ,” he continued. “The boy needs a strong support system. It’s good you’re both committed to him. I’ll draw up the paperwork this week. Congratulations.”

  “Thank you.” She braced herself for the Cupid question she knew was coming.

  “Noah will be, uh, staying on at the ranch with you and JJ, then?”

  The arrow still hurt, more than she thought it would. She sank down into a random departure gate seat. “Noah’s staying, but I’m not. In fact, I’ve just landed in New York.”

  “I see.” He managed to infuse those two little words with a sermon full of disappointment.

  “It’s really for the best,” she rushed. “But like you said, we’re both committed to JJ.”

  “Of course, you are.”

  “There’s another matter I’d like your help with. I believe my father meant to leave his coin collection to Noah. Could you help me get this settled? Mr. Wilds thinks he has a buyer already.”

  “Of course, I’ll help, but it sounds like you have everything taken care of.”

  Her throat tightened. “I tried.” The hole in her heart sucked at her soul like a vortex.

  The old man sighed. “I know you did, dear.”

  She hung up the phone, lecturing herself. She’d made her choice. She had to move on—to her life in New York.

  Spencer was waiting for Grace in his BMW at Passenger Pick-up. It was a thoughtful gesture to come get her. She’d told him over the phone everything that had happened and what she’d decided. He didn’t pepper her with questions, not then and not now, though she knew he wanted to. She laid her head back on the plush leather headrest, gathering her courage to ask him for something she’d vowed never to ask. But if she was going to bet on herself, she had to trust her instincts. Her instincts told her she could trust Spencer.

  “I want to start my own business.”

  “It’s about damn time.” A grin spread across his face. “That country air did you some good.”

  “It’d be a partnership with Ricky Alvaro. I think you’ve met him. He used to work for Simon.”

  “Sure, I know Ricky. He’s a good guy.” He glanced at Grace. “But you’ll still need a proper partnership agreement. I’ll help you with it.”

  Grace smiled. “Good. I was also wondering…” Just say it, Grace. “I was wondering if you’d consider giving me a loan.”

  “Whoa. What hap
pened to you back there?”

  “Is that a no?” She felt her cheeks warm. This was a bad idea. She was stupid, stupid, stupid for considering it.

  “Of course not. I’ll give you as much as you need, you know that. It’s just that you’ve always refused to talk about striking out on your own and always gotten pissed at me when I’ve offered money.”

  “I’m not taking your money. I’m borrowing it.” She wasn’t a moocher. “I want a real loan. With a signed agreement.” She may have decided she didn’t need Simon, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t need help. And if she was going to ask for assistance, it would be on her own terms.

  His lips twitched. “Fine. Shall we go back to my place to celebrate?”

  She sucked in a breath, wishing she could say yes. She had to move on with her life in all areas. Could this mean being more than friends with Spencer someday? Maybe. But not anytime soon. She was totally worn out after traveling all day, and her restless stomach felt like it was juggling nails from thinking about the art show.

  Who was she kidding? It was more than the traveling and the art show. She couldn’t get Noah out of her mind for five minutes, let alone an entire evening. And truth was, she didn’t want to, not yet. And not just Noah. What was JJ up to? And how were Hannah and Kiddo doing? Had all the chores gotten done? Had Socks come back today? She wanted to call and check, but she couldn’t. They all needed space. She needed to move on. That wasn’t her life.

  “I’m sorry, Spence—”

  “No worries, babe.” He cut her off and squeezed her knee before she could get out her entire rejection. “It’s all good. We’ll celebrate after the show on Friday.”

  The nails jabbed her stomach lining, and Noah’s face flashed in her mind. She pushed it out and forced a smile. “You bet.”

  …

  Friday came too soon. Grace had called in every favor she could to get the prints framed in colors coordinated for each storyline. White-washed aqua for the tranquility and naturalness of Kiddo’s birth; rusts and fiery orange for the fierce power of the wild horses; a sprinkle of royal blue or muted yellow for the related but separate snapshots and drawings. They looked amazing. Now all she needed was a name.