My One and Only Cowboy

by A. J. Pine

  “Hey,” Ben said. “I’m right here. And no. I didn’t get shot down because I don’t get shot down. I’m seeing Charlotte. Just not until later. She was catching up with Ivy and Carter.”

  Colt laughed, but he stopped short when he saw that his friend wasn’t smiling.

  Ben fired a blast of water at an unsuspecting Colt.

  “Hey!” Colt yelled. “You’re a real jackass, Callahan. You know that?”

  Ben didn’t respond. Sam and Colt’s ribbing had hit him where it hurt, and all three men knew it.

  “Hey,” Delaney said, breaking the silence. “Not that I know this girl at all or anyone who hasn’t shot Ben down, but maybe she likes the fact that Ben doesn’t want to be tied down. There’s nothing wrong with enjoying yourself outside the realm of commitment.”

  Sam cleared his throat.

  Ben laughed.

  Colt hung his head and swore under his breath. “You’re right,” he said, chagrined, his eyes meeting hers. “My apologies, Ms.…”

  “Har—” Sam froze as she caught herself midway through the word. “Spence,” she corrected. “Delaney Spence.”

  She was still protecting her identity, protecting the fantasy of their week together before having to deal with why she was really here—and why he couldn’t say to hell with the deed and ask her to stay.

  “We were, uh…” Sam wasn’t sure what to say next.

  “About to pitch that tablecloth and the rest of the mess you made?” Ben asked.

  Delaney groaned, dropping her face into her hands. Colt shook his head at Ben, and Sam gritted his teeth.

  “Think you two can head back and let the guests know it was a false alarm?” Sam asked. “Better yet, maybe tell them it was some kindling falling while I doused the fire. I’ll find us a new picnic table this week.”

  “We’ll take the foodstuffs back to the dining hall,” Colt said. “You can have the dolly for the water jugs and trash bin—and what’s left of the table.”

  “I trust you won’t be frightening the guests any more this evening, big bro?” Ben asked as he and Colt started piling what was left of the food supplies to carry back.

  Delaney doused the fire while Sam rolled up the tablecloth and stuffed it into the trash. Then he loaded the pieces of the collapsed table onto the dolly with the garbage can.

  “What are you going to do with that?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “Chop it into kindling and use it for a future bonfire—long after anyone might remember where the wood had come from.”

  She laughed. While their night had come to a comical end, there was nothing funny about everything that happened before the table collapsed.

  It was everything she promised herself she’d avoid. Sam Callahan was sweeping her off her feet, and despite knowing he couldn’t give her forever, she was letting him.

  He used his Maglite to guide them along the darkened footpath, pushing the dolly as she walked silently beside him, both seemingly not knowing what to say after all that had transpired.

  Hey, Sam, so that was amazing, huh? I might fall in love with you by the end of the week.

  Or Hey, Sam, I’m having these feelings for you that might be outside our little agreement. How about you?

  Or the absolute truth. Hey, Sam, I know the future might be extra scary for you and anyone you let into your life, but you’d be worth the risk.

  Was she crazy to think of the possibility of more after only a couple of days? Or was it possible to know in your heart that something could be so right if only given the chance?

  It didn’t matter. She’d scare him off for sure if she said any of that out loud. Only when they could see the lights of the main ranch building ahead did she break the silence.

  “So I guess I’ll see you for the festival opening tomorrow?” she asked, the question masked with an air of nonchalance she hoped he believed.

  He clicked off the flashlight and stuck it in his back pocket, then took her cheeks in his palms and kissed her.

  “What was that for?” she asked.

  Sam blew out a breath. “Thought it might remind you about me asking you to spend the night.”

  Her breath caught in her throat, and a warmth spread through her that was quite different from what she felt when Sam’s skin was pressed against hers. He still wanted her in his bed, even after they’d already done what they’d planned to do at his place.

  She let out a nervous laugh. “Yeah, but we just—I mean, I figured since we already…”

  He stroked her soft cheeks with his thumbs, her skin growing hot against his touch.

  “Maybe I want to wake up with you,” he said. “See what it’s like to have you close by without the heightened adrenaline of a thunderstorm or boxing match or a table collapsing beside a bonfire.”

  Her heart squeezed in her chest at the thought of sleeping in his arms, of his gorgeous, currently battered face being the first thing she saw in the morning.

  She slid her arms around his waist and breathed a soft sigh. “Don’t forget my car backfiring and dying on the road.” She laughed again.

  His brow furrowed. “I didn’t realize it was that funny.”

  She shook her head. “Not funny ‘ha ha’ but more funny like, ‘Wow…I never realized that.’ There’s this action movie from the nineties where at the end the cop falls for the girl after saving her from this runaway bus, and she kinda puts it perfectly, that relationships that start under intense circumstances never last. Guess it’s a good thing this isn’t a relationship.”

  Again she went for breezy, but her heart raced in anticipation of his reaction.

  Sam tilted his head back and raised his brows, his gaze meeting hers.

  “A Keanu Reeves fan, huh?” he said.

  She gasped. “You’ve seen Speed? And heck yeah. I’m a proud Keanu fangirl. That beautiful man does not age. He can save me from a speeding bus any day.”

  “See?” Sam said. “I have so much to learn about you in so little time. You’re going to have to spend the night.”

  So they dropped the dolly at the shed.

  “I’ll deal with what’s on the cart in the morning,” he said.

  When they got back to his place, he offered Delaney an uninterrupted shower while he took Scout for a walk. Afterward, when she was relaxing on the couch in a pair of his basketball shorts and a clean T-shirt with the dog and the glass of red wine he’d poured for her, he cleaned himself up as well.

  When he was out of sight, she lifted the collar of his T-shirt over her nose and breathed in. Even though the garment was clean, it still held traces of Sam—a clean, outdoorsy scent she could breathe from here until the end of time.

  He emerged from his bedroom in nothing but a pair of sweats—sexy as can be—then grabbed a DVD from his bookshelf and popped it into the player before taking the empty spot next to her. A few seconds later, the opening scene of the movie—actor Dennis Hopper messing with elevator wiring in the basement of a building—filled the television screen.

  Delaney beamed. “Shut up! You have Speed? And here I judged you for having a DVD collection at all.”

  His eyes widened.

  “Not to your face, silly,” she added, then burrowed into his side, careful not to spill her wine. “There he is!” she exclaimed giddily when Keanu Reeves entered the frame as Officer Jack Traven. “This is the best night!”

  Sam laughed. “Yeah,” he said. “I guess it is. I’ve got two hours of Sandra Bullock ahead and an even more beautiful woman snuggled tight against my side. Can’t say I have anything to complain about.”

  Delaney’s heart fluttered.

  She felt safe in his arms. Cared for. Known—feelings she’d never realized were missing with Wade until now.

  “Sam,” she said, keeping her gaze focused on the television screen.

  “Yeah?” he asked, doing the same.

  “Thank you.” Her throat tightened, preventing her from saying more without letting her emotions get the best of her.


  He squeezed her tight against him and let out a long sigh.

  “You’re welcome,” he said, not asking her what she meant.

  So she let herself believe he felt it, too, a shift in the air around them. Things were different now. Maybe the week could end differently too.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Delaney roused to soft kisses peppering her cheek. She smiled and let out a sleepy sigh, eyes still not ready to open. The kisses continued, but they were getting…wetter. There was also the absence of Sam’s signature scruff.

  Her eyes flew open so she was face-to-face with a certain dog’s snout.

  “Scout!” She loved doggy affection as much as the next person, but first thing in the morning after last night—an amazing last night—she was kind of hoping for more human affection from a certain very human man.

  She rolled toward the other side of the bed to find it empty, the spot where her body had fit so perfectly against Sam’s now cool to the touch, which meant he’d been gone for some time.

  Scout barked, startling Delaney to fully awake mode. Well, as fully awake as she could be without coffee.

  “Okay, okay, Lassie. We’ll get Timmy out of that well.”

  She rolled out of bed, still wearing Sam’s T-shirt and shorts. She didn’t want to change out of his clothes, not if it meant being surrounded by his scent for a little while longer.

  “That is one fine-smelling human you have, sweet girl.”

  She knelt down and scratched Scout behind the ears, and her tail tapped against the floor in canine appreciation.

  Delaney padded groggily into the bathroom, rubbing her eyes and smoothing down her bed head. She wasn’t sure what she expected to find, but it certainly wasn’t a brand-new toothbrush, still in its package, a sticky note attached that read: Had an extra. It’s yours if you want.

  She wanted.

  After finishing the bare minimum of her morning bathroom routine, she made her way toward the kitchen. The closer she got, the stronger the scent of coffee became, and she perked up when she saw a fresh pot on the counter. Above it a sticky note hung from the cabinet.

  Mornin’, Vegas. Had to take care of some business before the festivities began. Made you some coffee. Breakfast is hiding from Scout in the microwave. DON’T give her any more bacon. She already stole more than her share. See you soon. —Sam

  “Bacon?” she said aloud, sidling over to the microwave. She opened it to find a plate with avocado toast, a pile of crispy bacon, and fresh fruit. “The man made me coffee and bacon?” And remembered her love of the spreadable green fruit. She glanced down to where Scout waited with her tongue out and eyes wide, and slipped her a piece of bacon despite her human’s request. “If I’m not careful,” she said, popping a piece into her own mouth, “I might fall in lo—”

  The front door flew open, and Sam—dressed in jeans, boots, and a gray T-shirt, basically looking devastatingly handsome while she was still rumpled and sleepy-eyed—strode through.

  Delaney coughed as she swallowed her bacon.

  “You all right, Vegas?” He was at her side, patting her on the back.

  She nodded, coughed again, and then swallowed. “Wrong pipe.” She grabbed one of the rinsed wineglasses sitting next to the sink, filled it with water, and downed it without coming up for breath.

  Water dribbled down her chin as she set the glass back on the counter. She didn’t want to imagine what she looked like now—or what Sam had almost heard her say in a bacon-induced euphoria. Because it was absolutely the bacon talking. Nothing else.

  He swiped his thumb across her chin. “You had a little something…” His eyes dipped to where Scout lay on the floor, licking her chops. “You gave her more bacon, didn’t you?” he asked, half-playful and half-accusing.

  Delaney opened her mouth to protest—because how was she supposed to look at that puppy’s sweet eyes and not share her breakfast—but Sam silenced her with a bone-melting kiss.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck, her body sinking into his.

  “Now that’s what I call a good morning,” she said. “Instead I got the romantic treatment from the other woman in your life, though now I’m guessing it’s because she knew about the bacon.”

  Sam narrowed his eyes at his pooch. “And here I thought I’d be the first to kiss you today.”

  Delaney slid back toward the open microwave, pulled out her plate, and lifted a piece of avocado toast to her mouth. “Mmm,” she said after a bite. “I could get used to this. I mean, to avocado toast on the regular. With bacon.” She took another bite even though she hadn’t swallowed, realizing that on this particular morning she was safer eating than talking. Why was she so flummoxed by waking up in a man’s apartment? It wasn’t the first time she’d done such a thing, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

  Sam’s brow furrowed as she shoved the rest of the piece of toast into an already full mouth. “I can make you more if you want. It’s just toast.”

  She shook her head and tried to smile without food crumbling over her lips. When that proved less than successful, they both stood in awkward silence as she finished chewing, swallowing, and guzzling another wineglass full of water.

  She swiped her forearm across her mouth. “So, where’d you rush off to so early? Was sort of hoping we’d maybe do some things in there”—she nodded back toward Sam’s bedroom—“before doing coffee-and-food-type things in here.”

  “Boring business stuff,” Sam said. “But if you want to head back to bed and ‘do some things in there,’ I think we’ve still got some time.” He used air quotes around her do some things in there. Then he swiped a piece of bacon from her plate and popped it into his mouth.

  “Hey!” She backhanded him on the shoulder. “I thought that was for me.”

  He shrugged. “If you can share with the dog, you can share with the chef. It’s an unwritten rule.”

  She set the plate on the counter and poured herself a cup of much-needed coffee, wrapped her hands around the steaming mug, and sipped.

  “There we go,” she said. “Now I’m officially awake.” Everything seemed clearer—more in focus—after that first sip of coffee. Including Sam’s bruised face. Yesterday the purple bruise was confined to the corner of his eye, but today the bridge of his nose had a bluish hue as well.

  Yet he was smiling. And stealing her bacon. They were sort of, kind of acting like a couple, and it scared her how much she liked it. Still, she didn’t want Sam’s flirty playfulness to end.

  She set the coffee aside. “Does it still hurt?” she asked, reaching a hesitant hand for his cheek.

  “Only when you touch it,” he teased, but he didn’t pull away.

  “I still can’t believe I hit you.”

  “When I was trying to help you,” he reminded her.

  She pouted. “Yeah, well, now I know a man’s weakness is assuming a woman can’t hold her own. I’ll make a mental note to use the damsel-in-distress feint next time.”

  He shook his head and laughed. “Oh no you don’t, Vegas. I learned my lesson. I’m not getting in the ring with you again.” He cleared his throat. “Also I got some good news. Bumped into Boone Murphy, owner of Meadow Valley Motors, on my way back through town. Dr. Murphy’s brother, in case you haven’t met. He was supposed to join Eli on a cattle drive this week—missing the festival entirely—but plans fell through. Which means that even though the town is still technically in shutdown mode, he said he’d take a look at your car as a favor to me. The courthouse is another story. But at least you won’t be stranded anymore—in case you wanted to head back to Vegas instead of waiting out the festival here.”

  “Garage owner and cattle driver? Is every man in this town part cowboy?” she asked.

  Sam laughed. “Just about.”

  “And it looks like you’re pretty good at getting people to do favors for you. But not the courthouse, huh?”

  She fought the urge to clap her hand over her mouth. Sure, if her car were fixed an
d Sam could get a favor from a court clerk, she could be out of here sooner rather than later. But what if she didn’t want sooner anymore?

  She stared at him, her chest heavy and her throat tight. She was suddenly overcome by the realization that their fairy tale might come to an end, possibly sooner than expected. If she wasn’t stranded, what was her excuse to stay when she didn’t have to?

  “I guess—if Millie is good to go by tomorrow—”

  “Boone might have to order parts,” Sam said. “I mean, we don’t know for sure.”

  She nodded. Tiptoeing around the issue was going to drive her mad, so she dove in headfirst. “What if I wanted to stay? For the week, I mean.”

  She held her breath waiting for his answer, but Sam didn’t leave her hanging for longer than a second.

  “Hell yes, Vegas.”

  She clasped her hands around his neck, tugging his head down as she stood on her toes. She kissed him, both of them smiling against each other.

  “I wanted it to be your choice,” Sam said. “Because even though it might not make sense—”

  “I’m not ready for this to end,” she interrupted.

  He shook his head. “Me either.”

  She brushed a soft kiss under his bruised eye.

  “I never wanted to hurt you,” she whispered. “Not with coming back here or getting you in the ring or any of it. I hope you realize that was never my intent.”

  “I know,” he said, his breath warm against her ear. “And you want to know what really doesn’t hurt, not one bit at all?”

  “What’s that?” she asked.

  He threw another piece of bacon on the floor to distract the dog, then scooped her into his arms. She yelped with laughter, her worry a thing of the past as he strode with quick, easy glides back toward the bedroom. He kicked the door shut behind him, then dropped her onto the bed.

  He checked his phone, then set it on the nightstand. “We’ve got just under an hour before I need you dressed and ready to go.”

  She tucked her hands under her head and smiled. “Then you best get to work, sir. There’s lots to do between now and then.”