A Cowboy's Luck (The McGavin Brothers Book 8)

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

“Then you might end up working on a ranch someday?”

  “Probably not, unless it’s my own mini-ranch. Being co-owner of a Western bar suits me better.”

  “So the Guzzling Grizzly must be what attracted you to this town.”

  “Didn’t know it was here until I stumbled upon it. Once I did, I fell in love with the place and knew that was where I’d apply for a job.”

  “You were a bartender in Chicago?”

  “Nope.”

  She stared at him. “You didn’t have any experience at all?”

  “Not a lick. But Lou, the former owner, took me on.”

  “When was that?”

  “About eighteen months ago.”

  “And now you’re a co-owner.” She sounded impressed. “That’s fast work.”

  “Don’t give me too much credit. I may be on the deed, but I still owe Bryce a pile of money. He’s been kind enough to let me buy in gradually.”

  “Even so, that’s quite a story, going from having no experience bartending to co-owning the bar in eighteen months. Clearly Bryce has a lot of confidence in you.”

  “I hope so, because running the place alone would be tough for him. He needs to be free to expand the musical career he and Nicole are building. That’s what I have to offer—a person he can trust with the business while he’s on the road performing.”

  “You have more than that to offer. You’re an innovator.”

  He smiled. “Yeah, I’m the guy with the crazy ideas.”

  “Setting up the VIP program for celebrations isn’t crazy. Commissioning a logo and a website redesign isn’t crazy, either. Merchandising the logo looks as if it’s going to pay big dividends. Bryce may be the one with the bigger monetary stake, but you’re an asset to the business. He’s lucky to have you.”

  “Thank you for saying that, but I’m the lucky one, getting support from a guy like Bryce McGavin. I’ve finally found a career that’s right for me. As you know, it’s a great feeling.”

  “It’s a fabulous feeling.” She lifted her champagne glass. “Here’s to doing what you love.”

  He touched his glass to hers. “And knowing when something’s right.”

  “That, too.” Her brown eyes sparkled with understanding, as if she’d caught the subtext.

  She probably had. They had so much in common it was spooky. It almost seemed as if Fate had drawn them to this little Western town. As if finding each other was meant to be.

  * * *

  Michael was full of surprises. First Roxanne had pegged him as a cowboy, then as an experienced bartender. Neither assumption had been true. The guy was inventing himself as he went along, shaping his life the way he envisioned it instead of accepting the one he’d been born into. That fascinated her.

  During their excellent steak dinner, she discovered that his mom owned a public relations firm, his dad was a dentist and his older sister was a meteorologist working for WGN TV.

  “I was supposed to pick a profession, any profession. Cowboy wasn’t on the list.”

  “Are they upset that you came out here?”

  “Bewildered is more like it, especially after I told them I was buying into the Guzzling Grizzly. Owning a bar wasn’t on the list, either. Doesn’t fit the current family dynamic. But my great-grandfather Seamus Murphy had a pub in the heart of Dublin.”

  “So you’re a throwback.”

  He laughed. “That’s how I’m spinning it. Sounds better than renegade.”

  “I think it’s terrific that you’re creating the future you want in the place that you’ve chosen.”

  “So are you.”

  “Yes, but no one in my family was shocked when I majored in graphic design. They weren’t totally surprised when I announced I was searching for a small town as my base of operations, either. I’d talked about it for years.”

  “When you say family, who’s included in that category besides your dad?”

  “Mainly my three older brothers.”

  “Oh? Where are they?”

  “Pete, the oldest, works on the ranch with Dad. Gage, the middle one, is kind of a rolling stone. Wes just got board certified as an equine vet.”

  “So you’re their baby sister.”

  “Yes.” She smiled. “And yes, they’re overprotective big brothers, especially Wes. He’s been super busy with school the past year, so I haven’t seen much of him, but we text almost every day. Now that he’s certified, he’s promised to visit.”

  “Good. I’d like to meet him.”

  “I’ll see that you do.” Wes would make sure of it if he had any inkling she was interested in Michael. She put down her knife and fork. “Fabulous meal, but I can’t finish it.”

  “Want a doggie bag? There’s enough there for a sandwich.”

  “I’ll definitely take it home. I’d hate to waste good food. Everything was yummy.”

  “I’m glad you liked it.” He glanced over at the band. “I was about to ask if you wanted to dance, but the band’s going on break, which means Bryce and Nicole will be up next.”

  “Oh, right! This will be such a treat. I haven’t heard them yet.”

  “Then that’s a serious omission. You’ll love this.”

  “I’m sure I will.” She turned her chair sideways to face the bandstand as Nicole and Bryce stepped onto it, each wearing the logo t-shirt. “They look so good in those!”

  “Just think, without you, there wouldn’t be that logo and those shirts.” He reached over and laced his fingers through hers. “Thank you.” He gave her hand a squeeze.

  She met his gaze. “I’m thrilled it worked out this well. I—” She stopped talking when Nicole spoke.

  Her red curls shone in the spotlight as she held out both hands. “How’re you feeling, Eagles Nest?”

  The crowd roared in approval.

  “What was that?” She cupped her hand to her ear. “Tell me how you really feel!”

  The noise was deafening, with energy swirling in the room on currents of devotion. Clearly everyone loved the couple on the stage.

  Bryce leaned toward the mic. “If you want t-shirts like ours, tell Jenny or Ellen, or leave your name and number at the bar.”

  “Attaboy,” Michael said in an undertone.

  Roxanne squeezed his hand. This was fun, watching two charismatic people promote an item that wouldn’t exist without her graphic design work. Creating something for a company in Singapore was lucrative, but it didn’t deliver this level of satisfaction.

  “Thanks for that info, Bryce, sweetheart,” Nicole said. “But I think these folks also want a song. Got something in mind?”

  “I do.” He gazed at her. “Let’s let them hear the tune I wrote for you, sung as a duet.”

  Nicole’s answering smile was warm. “I’m on board with that.”

  Bryce began the duet, a tender waltz. The lyrics burrowed into Roxanne’s soul. All of my dreams come true, whenever I waltz with you. Nicole picked up the refrain and they harmonized to a song that spoke of two hearts discovering a magical connection that made life worthwhile.

  Longing tugged at Roxanne’s heart. The deep love Bryce and Nicole felt for each other was rare, but not impossible. They’d found it.

  When the song ended, she was still holding Michael’s hand. She pulled free so that she could clap wildly for the performance, which had touched her more than she’d expected.

  Bryce and Nicole took their bows and left the stage. When the band returned, they launched into a lively two-step. Michael invited her out to the floor and she threw herself into the fast dance, effectively shattering the romantic mood.

  For the next couple of hours, she soaked up the lively ambiance of the GG. She laughed and chatted with Michael as they imagined what else would promote the logo—beer mugs, wine glasses, bar towels, wall plaques.

  The band’s announcement of the last number of the night surprised her because the time had passed so quickly. The song turned out to be a waltz, and a glittering disco ball descended from the ceil
ing.

  She glanced up at it and laughed. “Really?”

  “Really. Bryce loves it. If it’s too schmaltzy we don’t have to—”

  “Not at all! Let’s dance under a revolving disco ball. I never have.”

  “Then by all means.” He led her out on the floor.

  The song wasn’t Whenever I Waltz with You, but the mood from that number took hold as she glided around the floor with Michael in the flickering glow of the disco ball. He danced old-school, hand firm against her back, his gaze locked with hers, a gentle smile softening the line of his full lips.

  When the number ended, he released her slowly. “Thank you.”

  “I’ve loved every minute.” Her body hummed. Sensual. Aware. Yearning.

  “Me, too.”

  Ellen appeared at their table with their jackets and Michael’s hat. They thanked her and left, stepping into the cold air.

  He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Cold out here.”

  “Yes.” She snuggled against him, soaking up his warmth.

  After handing her into the truck, he jogged around to the driver’s side, hopped in and started the truck. He flipped on the heater immediately, but it blew cold air. “Sorry.”

  “Can’t be helped.”

  “It’s a short drive.” He backed the truck out of the parking space and started down the road to the bakery. Then he reached for her hand.

  She held it in both of hers. He would take her home, probably kiss her goodnight, and leave. She wasn’t ready to let him go.

  He pulled up in front of the bakery and stepped on the brake. “I’ll walk you to the—”

  She turned to him. “Come in with me.”

  His gaze searched hers.

  “I could pretend it’s for coffee.” Her breath hitched. “But it’s not.”

  Chapter Four

  Michael’s brain wrestled with the turn of events. Think, dude, think! He wasn’t prepared. Should he tell her? Hell, no. He’d improvise. Only a fool would refuse such a heartfelt invitation.

  After that waltz, he was a goner, anyway. Whatever Roxanne wanted from him, he’d do his level best to provide. “I’d love to come in.” Switching off the motor, he climbed out and went around to the passenger side.

  When he opened the door, she slid down and right into his arms. “Kiss me, Michael.”

  With a groan, he pulled her hard against him. “It’s cold out here.”

  “I don’t care.” Her breath fogged the air.

  “I don’t, either.” Shoving back his hat, he lowered his head. Tempting as it was to claim her mouth with an urgency that matched her words, he slowed down and feathered a kiss over her lips. Then he drew back as color bloomed in her cheeks.

  Her red lipstick was nearly gone. Her mouth was the soft pink color he was used to, the shade he’d dreamed of in his fantasies of holding her like this. Her lips were velvet, moist, heaven. He touched down again, exploring, tasting, savoring.

  She whimpered. “More.”

  “You drive me crazy.”

  “I want crazy. I want—”

  He covered her mouth and settled in, delving deep with his tongue. His brain checked out, overheated by the sensual slide of her tongue against his and her low, throaty sound of encouragement when he pulled her tight against his aching groin.

  Lifting his head, he gulped for air. “Keys.”

  “Here.” She tucked them in his hand.

  Returning to the warm promise of her mouth, he maneuvered them toward the door and somehow managed to fit the right key in the lock. They tumbled through the doorway together.

  Once inside, he backed her against the door, pushing it closed and plundering her mouth as he twisted the lock into position. He couldn’t get enough of her, needed—

  She wriggled out of his grasp. “Upstairs.” Grabbing his hand, she started up the steps.

  He followed right behind, his jeans pinching his privates, his heart galloping. Her door was the closest one. Thank God.

  She went right in. No key. He didn’t question it. His hat sailed in one direction, his jacket another. One lamp. Just enough light. By the time he pulled her close, her jacket lay on the floor.

  He seized the hem of her shirt and peeled it upward. It caught on her earrings.

  “Wait.” Breathing fast, she took them out and tucked them in her jeans pocket. “Now.”

  After dispensing with the shirt, he wrapped his arm around her waist. The contact made him shudder with anticipation. Drawn to the wellspring of her kiss, he reached for the back catch of her bra.

  She eased away from his hungry mouth. “Let…me.” She arched into his lust-driven body, reached for the hook and flipped it open. Then she stepped away and let the straps slide down her arms.

  Beautiful. Stunned into silence by the sweet curve of her rosy-tipped breasts, he drew in a shaky breath.

  “My turn.” She moved in close, her nipples brushing his chest as she gazed into his eyes. She tugged his shirt from his jeans. Shoving the material up, she pressed her hot body against his.

  Swear to God she left an imprint before she eased back again, her breasts trembling with each labored breath. He almost came. Stripping off his shirt, he flung it aside and tugged her against his heaving chest so he could kiss her some more. And unfasten her tooled leather belt and unzip her jeans.

  She gave him room to do it and moaned when he reached under the lace of her panties. His body tightened. She was so ready. Sliding his fingers deep into her richness, he ached as he’d never ached before.

  She quivered as he slowly caressed her, found her sweet spot, increased the pace. Panting, she broke away from his kiss.

  He put his lips close to her ear. “Let go,” he murmured. “Come for me, Roxanne.”

  With a soft cry, she gripped his shoulders and surrendered to his touch. Her body grew taut, bowed, and shook as a climax rolled through her, leaving her skin rosy and moist. Gradually her breath slowed and she relaxed, leaning into him.

  He dropped a kiss on her parted lips as he eased his hand free. “Where’s your bed?”

  “Down…down the hall.” She took a quick breath. “On the right.”

  He lifted her into his arms.

  “Hey, you don’t have to—”

  “Shh.” He carried her down the dark hallway. The bedroom was even darker. He paused to let his eyes adjust before moving to the bed and lowering her onto it.

  “That was crazy.”

  He pulled off her boots and set them on the floor. “You wanted crazy.”

  “That doesn’t include hauling me around.” She still sounded breathless. “I’m not a small woman.”

  “I’m not a small man.” Tugging off her jeans and panties, he laid them over her boots.

  Then he stripped off the rest of his clothes.

  “Definitely not small.” Her low, suggestive tone indicated where her attention was.

  He smiled. “It’s dark.”

  “Not that dark.”

  He crawled onto the bed and wrapped her in his arms. “I didn’t bring anything. We’ll have to be creative.”

  She cupped his face in both hands. “That’s my middle name.” Her kiss was open-mouthed and full of promise as she snuggled against him.

  Her soft body pressing on his cock brought pleasure and pain. Sliding his hands down to her satin-smooth hips, he tugged her closer, enduring the pain for the sake of intense pleasure.

  She nibbled on his bottom lip. “Lie back.”

  “That’s not necess—”

  “Do it.”

  He was in no shape to argue. Rolling over, he brought her with him. She sprawled on top of him and deepened the kiss. If she kept that up….

  Ah, but she didn’t. Slowly she transferred her kiss to the line of his jaw, then the hollow of his throat. Her moist lips left a trail along his collarbone as she inched lower, sliding her body over his, sweeping her hair over his sensitized skin.

  He gripped handfuls of the comforter and clenched his
jaw. “You’re…playing with…fire.”

  “I know.” She swirled her tongue around his nipple and took it between her teeth.

  He gasped. Almost begged her to go faster. Swallowed the words. Held onto his pride.

  Not for long. When she nestled her plump breasts on either side of his rigid cock, he groaned. “Roxanne…have pity…I—” He gasped again. She was there, gripping with one hand, taking him deep into her mouth.

  His world shattered into a million brilliant pieces. He came hard. She stayed with him.

  When the bed stopped spinning, when he could breathe again, he tenderly cradled the back of her head. “Come here.”

  She made her way along his sweat-soaked body and propped herself above him on her elbows. Her smile was just barely visible in the dim light. “Did you like that?”

  “I loved that. Thank you.”

  “It was fun for me.”

  He combed his fingers through her hair. “Bet I had more fun than you.”

  “Bet you didn’t. Your body is…inspiring.” Her voice had taken on a husky tone.

  Bringing a lock of her hair over her shoulder, he brushed the slope of her breast. “What do you mean by inspiring?”

  “I like touching you.”

  He let go of her hair and cupped her breast. “I like touching you, too.” He flicked his thumb over her nipple. Already firm. “If you’d be willing, I’ll do it some more.”

  She swallowed. “I’d be willing.”

  “That’s what I wanted to hear.” He echoed her earlier command. “Lie back.”

  * * *

  So many things about Michael tempted Roxanne—his muscled physique, his sensual touch, his respectful nature, his basic kindness. She couldn’t keep her hands off him, even when he clearly wanted to be in charge this time.

  Laughing, he pinned her wrists to the bed. “You’re messing with my rhythm.”

  “But you feel so good.”

  “So do you.” He nuzzled the side of her neck. “Taste good, too. Salty and sweet.”

  “I like making you quiver.”

  “But then I can’t concentrate on this.” He dipped his head and placed tiny kisses on her breast before pulling the tip into his mouth.

  The deep suction arrowed straight to her core and she gasped.