Cowboy to the Core

by Maisey Yates

“On your tab?” he asked.

  She tried to force a laugh. “I don’t suppose I could put it on my brother’s tab?”

  “You could,” Lazarus said. “But I don’t really want to have to answer to why later.”

  “All right,” she said, slapping the bar top. “You can put it on mine, then.” Jamie nodded and transferred the bottles of beer to her own hand, turning and heading back toward the table, setting them down a little bit too firmly, breaking up the engagement ring conversation.

  Neither of them said a word about rings after Jamie sat down.

  “How is everything going at work?” McKenna asked.

  “Good,” she said as casually as she could. “Other than the fall. Probably going to have a mother of a bruise.”

  “What happened, anyway?” Bea asked. “Was it related to Gem?”

  “It wasn’t her fault,” Jamie insisted. “It was a squirrel.”

  Bea nodded sagely as if the fact that a squirrel might be at fault for some kind of trouble seemed eminently sensible to her. Not long after, Bea launched into a story that explained her reaction, involving Evan, her pet raccoon, and a fight that he had with a digger squirrel not that long ago.

  Jamie took a sip of beer and turned her focus across the bar, and suddenly, Bea’s voice faded into the background.

  She was about to open her mouth and say something. To complain about the weirdness of it all. Because right across the bar from her was Gabe Dalton, and what were the odds he’d be here, when she had just spent the entire day with him.

  Except the words stuck in her throat, and her eyes felt glued to the scene in front of her.

  He wasn’t alone. He was leaning against the back wall, a jukebox shining brightly between him and the woman he was talking to.

  Jamie felt like she was observing a ritual right out from another culture. Something she didn’t understand. Something she never wanted to understand, really. But for some reason right now she found herself captivated by it. The woman had big blond hair, and Jamie wondered how in the world you got your hair—especially when it was straight like that—to stand out from your head with quite that much of an effect.

  Hers certainly didn’t do that. She took it out of her braid at the end of the day and it fell limply down past her shoulders, usually one kink about an inch before the end. It certainly didn’t defy gravity and make a little frame around her face.

  And then there was her dress. The kind of thing that Jamie would never be caught dead in. It looked like she’d wrapped herself in pink tinfoil, the shiny gown clinging to her curves like another skin.

  And Gabe was looking at her.

  Intently.

  The same way that he had looked at Jamie earlier. Except... No, it wasn’t the same.

  Jamie tilted her head to the side, transfixed and unable to redirect her focus.

  Gabe chuckled, shifting and leaning in, reaching out and running his fingertips along the other woman’s jaw.

  And something inside Jamie burned.

  The place where he touched earlier tingled, and she fought the urge to reach up and touch her own face. The woman tossed back that shimmering blond mane and treated Gabe to a big smile.

  And Jamie couldn’t help but think of the way that she had reacted to him earlier. Angry and irritated and like a porcupine ready to shoot quills into him.

  Are you okay, honey?

  He’d called her honey and now he was talking to this woman.

  Said woman took a step toward Gabe, and he reached out, placing his hand on her hip this time, just the way he had touched Jamie earlier. Except this wasn’t clinical. And the expression on his face didn’t have any anger or irritation.

  And suddenly, she just felt suffocated. By this. By everything. By a crushing sense of...being lost. Being ignorant.

  Of not knowing anything about sex, just like Bea and McKenna had said.

  She’d never experienced this feeling in her entire life. It was so intense that she couldn’t breathe.

  She’d just been thinking how simple men were. How basic the interactions between men and women were. And yet right now, looking at this and comparing it to what happened earlier, it all felt anything but simple. And she didn’t feel like she understood it. Not even the tiniest bit.

  Jamie had always been confident in herself. Because that was what it took to stand on her own two feet. To make sure that she fit in with her family. That she wasn’t needy. That she wasn’t a burden. She prided herself on being no-nonsense. On being tough. On being a pragmatist, which made certain things self-evident.

  She’d been raised with brothers, with her father. She knew that men were motivated by sex, and that they often had it indiscriminately, that they went to great lengths to get it, even. She understood that with a kind of detached certainty.

  But there was a whole language here being spoken between Gabe and this woman. And suddenly, those feminine accoutrements that Jamie had always thought unnecessary seemed like an essential part of speaking in this language. Communicating in this nonverbal way that Jamie didn’t understand.

  She had never once in all her life envied another woman.

  She had always felt like she’d chosen to be what she was.

  Like the fact she was plain, the fact that she didn’t wear makeup or pay attention to clothing, was a choice she made. A skin she could shed at any moment if it ever grew too tight.

  But it was too tight now, and she couldn’t breathe. And she couldn’t change, either.

  She didn’t know how. And she felt like she was drowning in that fact.

  Like there was a piece of herself that was missing.

  Not makeup. But this innate understanding. This sense of being a woman.

  McKenna had been half-feral when she’d come to the ranch, and even she seemed to understand it. Bea was very light, delicate and tough all at once, petite and with bouncy curls that drew the attention of any man in the vicinity.

  And then there was the...this...this sex bomb that was detonating across from Gabe right now.

  She had always written these things off as silly, frivolous.

  And now she just felt like they all knew something that she didn’t. That she couldn’t even hope to understand. And worst of all, she felt envious.

  Envious of the way those too-blue eyes looked at the blonde. At the way his hand moved over her hip.

  She felt like an ache had opened up inside her, and it had nothing to do with the bruise she had sustained earlier. Nothing at all.

  But that bruise hurt. That bruise right on her hip, right where he’d touched her earlier.

  Where he was touching this other woman now.

  Gabe moved, his head turning toward Jamie, and his eyes clashed with hers. His dark brows lifted upward.

  Jamie looked away quickly, and saw that McKenna and Beatrix were looking at her intently.

  “What?” She nearly growled.

  “We lost you for a second there,” Bea said softly.

  “I just...”

  “You saw Gabe?” McKenna asked, her tone knowing. And right now the knowing was about to send her over the edge.

  “Yes,” she responded through gritted teeth. “I didn’t realize he’d be here. Kind of a buzzkill to see your boss when you’re trying to hang out and have a good time.”

  “Yeah,” McKenna said, her expression strangely tender.

  “I told you,” Jamie said, feeling itchy.

  “What did you tell us?” McKenna asked.

  “About Gabe. About the fact that he’s just like every other rodeo cowboy. She couldn’t be more of a buckle bunny if she tried.”

  She was trying. And succeeding, it appeared.

  “He seems to be looking at you now,” Bea said, her tone such a false kind of casual that Jamie didn’t even think she was trying too hard to fake i
t.

  So Jamie didn’t bother to pretend she wasn’t interested in what Gabe was doing. She glanced over again, and saw that Gabe actually was looking at her.

  The blonde was looking at him, and Jamie could see that she was a little bit irritated to have lost some of his attention.

  Something uncoiled in Jamie’s stomach that she didn’t have a name for.

  The woman grabbed hold of Gabe’s face and redirected his focus back to her. And immediately following that, pressed her lips to his.

  Jamie felt like someone had struck a match on her scalp and then thrown the lit flame into her hair.

  The kiss only lasted a moment, and when it was over, the woman looked at Jamie. Right in the eyes. And she had a little smile on her glossed lips that said she knew she’d scored a point in a game Jamie didn’t know the rules to.

  And before Jamie could even think about what she was doing, she stood up.

  “Jamie...” But Bea’s voice faded into the background as Jamie squared her shoulders and strode across the bar.

  Jamie Dodge didn’t run scared. It wasn’t in her. And she sure as hell didn’t let women in high heels think they could intimidate her with a wink and a little bit of lip gloss.

  “Hi,” Jamie said, crossing her arms and standing squarely between the two of them. “How’s Gem?” She directed the question at him, ignoring his companion completely.

  Gabe blinked twice and looked her up and down. “Good.”

  “Good,” Jamie said. “Just wanted to make sure. You know, since we haven’t talked for a couple of hours. My hip is fine, by the way. Thanks for all the...all the attention you gave it.”

  “Good to know,” Gabe said, tension biting off the end of every word. The woman was looking at Jamie now, and suddenly Jamie felt like she’d scored a point.

  A point in a game she didn’t know the rules for, but a point was a point.

  She wasn’t exactly sure what it was about what she’d said that had perturbed the other woman, but she wanted to chase that.

  “I took her temperature,” Jamie said. “Gem. Before you came down earlier. Just to let you know. I know Beatrix said she gave her a veterinary check, but I just wanted to make sure everything was good.” She nodded, mostly to herself. “It is.”

  The other woman blinked, clearly unsure of what to make of Jamie at this point. Jamie wasn’t quite sure why that comment didn’t land the same as the other one.

  “Jamie,” Gabe said, his lips curving upward. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

  “We’re talking,” Jamie said, planting her feet firmly on the wood floor and widening her stance.

  “Not here,” he said. He turned to the woman. “Crystal, can you wait just a second?” He hooked a hand around Jamie’s elbow and led her toward the front door of the bar. And right outside into the cold.

  “Hey,” Jamie said. “What are you doing?”

  “I think the question is what are you doing?”

  “I saw you over there. I thought I would come say hi.”

  “That’s not what you’re doing. You have the need for a fight written all over your face, and I don’t know what your problem is, Jamie, or why you think every encounter we have is an opportunity for you to wage war, but it’s got to end.”

  “I didn’t know there was anything wrong with coming over and saying hi to my boss,” she said.

  “You’re not that naive,” he said. “I’m not having a pleasant conversation with Crystal. I’m trying to hook up.”

  Why did that make her feel like he’d hauled off and punched her in the stomach? Like he’d knocked the wind out of her?

  “Well, I know that,” she said, admitting it to herself at the same time she did to him. “She looked at me like she had something to prove, so I figured she could prove it to my face.”

  “Why? Why do you feel the need to do that? Like you need to get in there and face everybody head-on and be right all the time.”

  His words felt sharp and strange, particularly given everything she was grappling with at the moment. Way too sharp.

  “I don’t need to be right all the time,” she said.

  “Yes,” he said. “You do.”

  “No, I don’t. And this isn’t me trying to be right all the time. It’s just me being right about myself.”

  He snorted. “You’re like a live firecracker waiting to go off at any minute, and damned if I know why.”

  “You’re just... You’re wrong. I don’t... I’m not challenging you. I’m not trying to make a fight. I just came over to say hi.”

  “Is that why you looked like you wanted to light Crystal on fire?”

  Jamie sputtered. Her heart was pounding so hard it was making her dizzy. A lot like when she’d fallen off her horse earlier today.

  “She started it,” Jamie said. “She kissed you. At me.”

  “I see,” he said. “Or maybe she just kissed me because she wanted to.”

  Jamie laughed. “No,” she said. “That is what she was doing. Believe me.”

  And Jamie didn’t know for the life of her why any of it mattered or why she felt invigorated to have him outside with her. To have his hand on her elbow.

  He was touching her now. Not Crystal. And why that was a victory, she didn’t know. She didn’t know what she wanted. But she knew being near him made her feel alive in a way she hadn’t known she could.

  “The way I see it,” Gabe said slowly, “you’re competing for attention.”

  Jamie leaped away from him, her heart thundering. “I’m not.”

  “If you want the kind of attention that I’m giving to Crystal, I suppose we could work something out, but you have to be prepared for what that means.”

  He took a step toward her, and this time, when those blue eyes burned into hers, she felt something different in that heat.

  She didn’t know if it was different, or if she was.

  “I don’t want that,” she said, taking a step away from him.

  “How else is a man supposed to interpret the way you’re behaving?”

  “I don’t know,” Jamie snapped. “Maybe you could quit trying to interpret me and go back to your date.”

  “Is that what you want? You want me to go back in there and close the deal?”

  She didn’t. She felt strangely and unaccountably like whatever link she had to him, whatever thing was keeping her grounded right now, would vanish if he went off with that woman.

  It was something strange and mysterious that she couldn’t get a handle on.

  It was sex.

  That was what it was.

  The strange sense of isolation that she had around her family, around her friends, and even in this interaction with Gabe and that woman, came down to the fact that she didn’t understand that kind of relationship. That she’d never had one before.

  And the not knowing made her feel so small and lost and vulnerable and weird. And she hated it.

  “Don’t,” she said.

  She felt like she’d been cracked open, and she didn’t like it. Like that admission was revealing something about herself. But it shouldn’t. Gabe was being open about the fact that he wanted sex. That he wanted sex with that woman. She knew it. He wasn’t hiding it. Why should she? Why should she hide the fact that she...?

  Did she want to have sex with Gabe?

  It was a strange thing to consider. Especially since she never even kissed him.

  She wasn’t ready to answer a definitive yes to that question. The only thing she knew was that she didn’t want him to be with that other woman.

  “Don’t what?”

  Jamie scrunched her face up. “Don’t leave with her.”

  The silence was sickening. Horrible. Jamie didn’t like being embarrassed. She supposed nobody did. But she...she just didn’t have a lot of experience with
it. Which maybe said more about her and her self-confidence than it did about the situations she’d been in before.

  But right now her need—it really felt like a need—for Gabe to not leave with that woman, to not get naked with her or touch her or kiss her, overrode everything.

  “Why not?” Gabe asked, crossing his arms.

  “I...” The words teetered on the edge of her tongue, words she’d never spoken before in her life, about an emotion she didn’t think she’d ever felt. At least, not one that she ever indulged in. “I’m jealous,” she said.

  “Jealous?”

  She clamped her teeth together, doing her best to speak around them. “I don’t know. Whatever the thing is when you don’t want someone to touch someone else. That thing.”

  “Jamie,” he said, his voice rough. “Do you have any idea what kind of invitation it seems like you’re sending out?”

  She lifted her chin, gritting her teeth, ready to stand in defiance. “I didn’t know a conversation was an invitation.”

  Then Gabe did something she didn’t expect. He reached out and cupped her chin, his eyes intent on hers. And he moved his thumb over her lower lip. A shiver went through her body, all the way down. “Don’t play games with me. Honey, this is serious.”

  Honey.

  He’d called her honey again.

  Like she might be sweet or something.

  Like she might be special.

  And...and maybe she should make it an invitation. She wasn’t...innocent. Not really. She might not have practical experience with sex but she knew what it entailed.

  Though the events of tonight made her question that.

  She had always felt surrounded by sex in the way that she was surrounded by the rodeo itself. She might not ride bulls, but she understood the sport. She’d observed the way her brothers behaved with women they were interested in. Hell, she’d seen them waving hookups off early in the morning. She was sure they’d figured they’d gotten away with it, but Jamie had known what was happening in her house.

  But suddenly it all seemed so mystifying and unknowable to her now.

  She clasped her hands behind her back and twisted them together, making a knot with her fingers. “Serious how?”

  “You need to know what you want. If you call me away from a woman I’m interested in, you better know what you’re doing.”