Under Pressure

by Rhonda Lee Carver

  UNDER PRESSURE

  2014 Rhonda Lee Carver

  Copyright © 2014 by Rhonda Lee Carver

  All rights reserved.

  Published in the United States

  Published by Rhonda Lee Carver

  Cover Art by Samantha Holt

  Under Pressure (Book 1, Rhinestone Cowgirls)

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidences are a fabrication of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, establishments, events, or locales is coincidental.

  Dedication:

  To Ava and Lilly

  Chapter One

  SCANNING THE CROWD in the country bar, Two Step, Jewels Stone took a sip from her beer. She set it back down with a loud clang and her irritation amplified. She wasn’t much of a drinker, but the less attention she got, the better. Sitting alone in a bar made her the target for every horny man in the place. At least the alcohol made it tolerable. And, she’d gotten the stink-eye down pat, and that seemed to work at keeping men at an acceptable distance—at least most men.

  Feeling eyes on her, she lifted her chin. The cowboy sitting at the next table watched her in beady-eyed curiosity. A grin erupted over his expression as he leaned forward, almost falling from his chair.

  Oh Lordy! She was probably the only sober one left in the building.

  Drunken Cowboy slithered his gaze to the low neckline of her shirt, sweeping his tongue across his bottom lip hidden by a wiry beard. His smile widened and he winked—ego enlarged by alcohol. “Hi there, honey-pie,” he slurred.

  Jewels cringed and turned, shielding her cleavage from his view.

  Sighing, she glanced at the mirrored clock on the wall. Eleven P.M. Hope faded as she searched the room again, noticing a couple dancing. They were staring at each other. The man swept his hand along the woman’s cheek and she slipped her arms around his neck, looking up at him with complete trust. It was a scene straight from a romance novel.

  Jewels shook her head and moved her gaze elsewhere, feeling a heaviness in the pit of her stomach. She didn’t believe in love—at least not any longer.

  An upbeat song drifted from the jukebox and, hoping to ease her tension, she rolled her shoulders to the beat, thrumming her fingers on the polished table and tapping her foot. She hummed along until the singer crooned about cheating men and younger women—hitting too close to home.

  Groaning and downing the rest of her warm beer, she didn’t need to be the last sober person standing.

  Eleven-ten.

  Sliding deeper into the wooden chair, she stretched her legs, hooking her heels on the chair across from her. The neon sign above the door blurred as she stared. The one-hour stakeout had oozed into three long hours. Her aching bottom had finally turned numb, and she realized private sleuthing wasn’t a job she was cut out for. She’d stick with photography, although here lately, even that had fizzled. Right down the hatch with everything else in her life these days.

  Eleven-fifteen.

  She should be home, tucked in the comfort of her blankets, and yet thinking of crawling into the big bed alone made her chest tighten. She’d spent more nights curled up on the sofa than in her bedroom.

  Moving back to her childhood home, the Rhinestone Ranch, at least she’d managed to get more sleep than ever, but her self-esteem certainly had suffered.

  Although her father welcomed her, and she enjoyed being close to her sisters and the horses, living in his house was taking her further away from her pursuit of independence. She’d lived on her own for ten years but she’d never quite found what she was looking for.

  Jewels guessed her father liked having his three grown up daughters under his wing. Protective and sometimes overbearing, Joshua Stone had every reason to be the heavy-handed father. Losing his wife while his youngest daughter was still in diapers and becoming a single father of all girls must have been a great hardship for a tough cowboy with rough edges. Her mother dying of cancer had stripped everyone’s life of something. Each year that passed, her mother’s beautiful eyes and jovial laughter seemed to slip more and more from Jewels’ memory.

  However, her father sitting her down on that dark, stormy night and telling her that her mother had passed would forever stay in her heart.

  Jewels had suddenly become caretaker for her sisters, and had grown up practically overnight.

  Looking back, she realized her habit of taking care of everyone had spiraled into the demise of her relationship. Two years ago, as Kiefer was walking out of the apartment they were sharing, suitcases in hand and a guilty expression marring his model good looks, he’d told her, “You’re the only mother I know who doesn’t have any kids.”

  She guessed the twenty-year-old he moved in with must have been a relief after Jewels apparently suffocated him with her ‘motherly’ ways.

  Once he moved out, the luxurious apartment had become a museum, displaying things that no longer mattered.

  Needing a place to go for peace, or rather hide, she came home.

  “Hello, Jewels.”

  Lifting her chin, she met the friendly gaze of a cowboy. He didn’t wait for an invitation, but pulled out the empty chair and straddled the seat, leaning his elbows on the back.

  Heaving her mind out of useless musings, she looked at him closer, thinking he looked familiar. Doing a quick mental journey through her muddled brain, she came up blank. “Can I help you?”

  “You can put me out of my misery and share a dance with me.” He pushed his hat farther back on his forehead.

  “Do we know each other? You knew my name.” She sat up straight and leaned her elbows on the table.

  “The name’s Pete.” His eyes twinkled in the neon light flashing on the wall behind her.

  “Well, you see Pete, I don’t dance with strangers.” Fact was, she hadn’t danced in years. Kiefer never like to.

  “There’s a first time for everything.” He wriggled his brows. “And I’m not really a stranger.”

  “Wait, I do know you. Didn’t you work at Rhinestone?” Many hands had come and gone over the years, but she always remembered a face.

  “Back a few years ago. Until I took on something else.” He tugged his hat, shading his eyes.

  “You mean until you were fired. Hmm…yes…I remember clearly. You and my youngest sister went out a couple of times.” She couldn’t be sure because of the poor lighting, but his face had lost some of the rancher’s tan.

  “It wasn’t my fault. Emerald asked me out.” The charm dissolved in his voice.

  “But you see, Pete, my father can’t fire his daughter, but he can his ranch hands. Joshua Stone is a stickler for rules, especially when it comes to his daughters and his employees.” She clicked her tongue and relaxed back in the chair. Poor Pete wasn’t the first who’d learned the hard way.

  He opened his mouth as if to say something, but the bartender approached the table and bent close to Jewel’s ear. “That man you’re looking for, Spark Ryder? Well, he just walked in and took a seat at the end of the bar. You can’t miss him. He’s the tall, handsome cowboy.”

  “Thanks, Delta.”

  “Don’t mention it.” Delta gave Pete a smile and cracked her gum loudly. She then laid her black painted nails on his arm. “Care for another round for you and your friend?”

  “Sure. Put it on my tab,” he said, charm returned. “Now, how about that dance, pretty lady? I’m no longer an employee.”

  “Sorry, Pete. My date just walked in the door.” She stood up and grabbed her purse. A sad expression covered Pete’s face, and a sliver of guilt splashed through her. Jewels couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for the young man who’d not only lost his job for Em, but soon after, she’d jilted him. Her sister had got
ten good at lovin’ and leavin’.

  “Too bad.” He stood up.

  “You should ask one of the ladies sitting at the table by the door. The brunette in pink looks very lonely.”

  Some twinkle returned to his gaze. “Alrighty.” He stomped off in Brunette’s direction.

  Taking a deep breath, Jewels moved toward the bar and the cowboy who she planned to enlighten before the night was over.

  He deserved whatever he got!

  Jewels had turned livid when Em told her the story of how Spark Ryder had charmed his way into her bed for a weekend of fun and promises, only to dupe her with his lies come weekday sunrise. Em was far from innocent, but no one ever played Jewels’ baby sister for a fool and got away with it.

  This cowboy needed a taste of his own medicine, and Jewels planned to deliver. She was sick and tired of men thinking they could walk all over a woman without reprisal.

  Anger shot through her, giving her the bravery and motivation she needed to carry out her plan.

  Sliding on the empty stool next to him, she got Delta’s attention and ordered another beer, on her own tab and not Pete’s.

  Placing her purse on the bar, Jewels tilted her chin and casually targeted Cowboy in her radar. She got a good look at his profile—strong and rugged. The silver hair dipping below his hat and the slight creases at the corner of his eye made her question his age. She guessed he was in his mid-thirties and didn’t remember Em mentioning that he was older.

  The older man seduces the younger woman to add another notch to his bedpost. Jewels gritted her teeth but forced her jaw to loosen.

  She could just give him a piece of her mind, right then and there, but that would be too easy. He’d shrug her lecture off and continue charming his way through women like a bulldozer destroying ant hills. A verbal thrashing wouldn’t work. A man like Spark Ryder needed a good lesson.

  So, she put on her best smile and oozed in for the kill.

  Delta winked then put the beer in front of Jewels. She brought the bottle to her neck, smoothing the glass lip along her heated flesh and over her collarbone. The condensation cooled her skin. “It’s hot in here.”

  He didn’t even acknowledge her.

  There were pitfalls to her plan. Would she even gain his interest?

  She also wondered if he would see the similarity between Em and her. If he did, her strategy would be blown out of the water.

  How does a woman break the ice with a man? She’d forgotten how flirting worked and Googling ways to falsely seduce a man had only confused her. She realized it was best to be herself—as much as possible.

  “Have I seen you around here before?” she asked.

  Slowly, he turned his cheek, pushed back his hat and their gazes met.

  Her heart skipped ten beats and her mouth went dry. He had the deepest, greenest eyes she’d ever seen. If she had a pillow, she’d fall asleep in the dreamy orbs.

  “I don’t think so. I don’t come here often.” She knew he lied because Em said he came into Two Step every Wednesday, but it was hard to concentrate on the truth when his thick Texas drawl sent her treacherous pulse beating a heavy metal rhythm.

  Yeah, she could see why her sister slid into this man’s saddle.

  The sleeves of his flannel were rolled up to tanned, thick biceps, and the two powerful arms leaned on elbows on the edge of the bar. Attached to the strapping limbs was one sexy, brawny cowboy. Following cow-wrangling broad shoulders and chest, the top three buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing a patch of crisp, dark hair that matched the dusting on his arms.

  A solid lump formed in her throat.

  Guzzling the beer, she looked down the bottle at him.

  He smiled, one that looked even brighter against the backdrop of his olive complexion and broad jaw. His toughness softened some.

  He lifted his bottle to his lips, wrapped them around the lid and an image of that mouth on hers, and other secret places, slipped through her mind. She knew it was wrong, sinful in so many ways, but she couldn’t help herself.

  She tore at the corner of the damp napkin in restless nervousness. The bottle tipped. Catching it, she hoped he didn’t see the trembling in her fingers. Putting the beer back on the torn square, she forced a smile and watched him through the veil of her lashes as he relaxed back into the stool. A strong whiff of soap and musk tickled her nose, turning everything inside of her to marshmallow crème.

  “I-I guess I was wrong.” With the pensiveness of his gaze, she hoped he couldn’t see right through her.

  “No problem.” His voice was deep and slow, just like she’d imagine coming from a sexy, confidant cowboy. He looked at her drink then back to her with a cocked brow. “Do you need another?”

  “Sure.” What? She didn’t need another!

  He flagged Delta. Jewels couldn’t hear a word he was saying because she was stuck in a trance watching the movement of his perfectly shaped lips. He had a sureness about him that she didn’t see often, one that came with age—too old for her baby sister, who was far from being a baby at twenty-five. He just didn’t seem like Em’s type. She had a taste for men who didn’t think before they spoke or acted, and every move this cowboy made seemed deliberated.

  She struggled to keep her brain on focus-mode to find the right words to keep the stud engaged without tripping over her tongue. She should ask if he was a rancher. His sun-kissed skin and worn hat told her he spent a lot of time outdoors. Did he plan to attend the rodeo coming up in a few days? Some casual chatter— but her mouth wouldn’t formulate the words.

  Since her words were lost, she did the next best thing—she worked her smile, hoping it lived up to its reputation of being worth a million dollars, at least that was the value her father placed on it. In high school, she’d never been the prettiest or the most popular, at least compared to her sisters, but she’d learned early that a smile was contagious. It’d certainly gotten her out of a speeding ticket a time or two.

  A sexy smile split his lips. Now that was a smile.

  ~°°°~

  Spark Ryder glanced at the fair-skinned woman through squinted eyes.

  Now what in blazing hell is this?

  She sat there quietly, smiling, staring at him.

  He’d noticed every inch of her, at least as much as he could without coming across as obvious. He skimmed his gaze over her hips and downward to the tips of her pink toenails visible in the fancy heels that could second as weapons. Even underneath the skintight jeans, he knew her legs were long and toned and—would be a perfect fit around a man’s waist. He couldn’t forget a pair that looked this good and wouldn’t deny he’d like to have them around his hips, but that wasn’t going to happen…

  No way, no how.

  He’d seen Jewels Stone the second he’d walked into the bar—probably every other patron in the building noticed her too— but besides her pretty, cinnamon-brown eyes, upturned nose, and long honey-colored hair, there was something else about her that gripped his balls in a bunch. She was his new boss’s daughter, which meant she was off limits.

  So then why was she making a helluva effort in flirting with him?

  He didn’t believe she recognized him—or did she? Maybe this was a test to see if he was a true gentleman, worthy of working the Rhinestone.

  Hell, he couldn’t be sure.

  These days, when an employer trolled potential employees’ Facebook pages to find dirt, he guessed anything was possible.

  He’d caught a glimpse of her a few weeks ago while visiting the Rhinestone. She was bent over a horse-sized sheepdog, lathering him up and hosing him down. When she stood up, Spark’s jaw had almost hit the ground. Wearing a short top and shorter shorts, her legs had gone for miles and she could have won first prize in a wet T-shirt contest. That was an image forever embedded into his eyelids.

  Dropping his gaze now, he noticed the slight trembling in her slender fingers as she scraped at the label on the bottle. Her nails were short and clean—glossy. He suddenl
y wished he were a canine being lathered up.

  He never would have guessed he’d cross paths with one of the Stone daughters, especially at the country bar twenty miles away from her beaten path—and yet here she was, sitting beside him, sporting a smile that could knock the boots clean off a fellow.

  Problem was, a woman didn’t use a loaded smile unless she had an ulterior motive.

  He knew he should just use some excuse, like he was meeting someone or needed sleep, and pardon himself.

  Interest kept him glued to the stool.

  She wrapped her hand around the bottle, sliding her palm over the condensation then tapping the tips of her fingers. An image flashed of her grasping his—oh shit! His muscles quivered. What the hell had come over him?

  When she brought the bottle to her lips, he tore his gaze away before he suffered any more growth. His zipper couldn’t take the strain.

  With eyes on the dance floor, he barely saw the only couple, wrapped arm and arm, tongues down each other’s throat. Someone would need an extractor to tug the two apart.

  “Would you like to dance?”

  Bringing his attention back on her, there was determination in her expression that told him she wouldn’t take no for an answer, no matter what excuse he threw her way. He became more suspicious.

  He’d never walked away from a challenge. He was born to compete and lived for an adrenaline rush, but some lines shouldn’t be crossed.

  Opening his mouth to reply with a big fat no, a more intelligent thought spanned his mind. If an employee would send his daughter out to ‘test’ a ranch hand, that wouldn’t be a rancher Spark wanted to work with. He’d heard only good things about Joshua Stone, and the man had a shining reputation in these parts, but Spark knew a lot of men who could pull the wool over many an eye.

  Spending some time with Jewels, he’d get the opportunity to do his own investigating.

  “Sure. Why not.” He got up and stretched his long legs and shoulders. A pain shot through his shoulder, reminding him of the rodeo injury he’d suffered two years ago—the last ride of his career that had landed him in the hospital for a month and rehabilitation for six. His body aches were a built-in weather predictor and this throbbing told him rain was in the forecast.