The Bull Rider's Cowgirl

by April Arrington

  Jen straightened and puffed a strand of hair out of her face, trying to keep the relief in her voice to a minimum. “Good. Come out and show me whenever you’re ready, okay?”

  “Okay,” Margaret said.

  The clang of hangers and rustle of clothing resumed on the other side of the door. Jen started for the chairs in the waiting area, a restless sensation buzzing down her legs. The nagging thought that she needed to get back to the ranch and spend some time with Diamond returned. It had been four days now since she’d left the circuit. She hadn’t checked her stats or squeezed in a lick of training yet.

  But Jen was surprised to discover the anxiety she usually felt about not practicing had diminished. That each hour she’d spent with Margaret—though exhausting—had relaxed her nerves.

  “Just look at what I found!” Trudy, a pretty brunette with teased hair and big earrings, held up two cowgirl hats. “They’d go perfect with that beautiful blond hair of hers.”

  Jen shook her head. Hats? That’d add another hour to their shopping visit and delay her training even more. “Oh no, please—”

  “Don’t worry,” Trudy said with a laugh. “Given the pile of clothes she’s already put by the register, I can stand to throw in a couple hats for free.” She looked over her shoulder and grinned, voice lowering to a whisper. “I think your husband’s getting a bit restless.”

  Jen leaned to the side and peered past her. Colt shifted in his chair across the room, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the window. Jen’s fingers tingled, wanting to rove over the strong line of his freshly shaved jaw and trace the contours of his muscular chest. She wanted to wrap her arms around him just as she had last night.

  Only, she knew exactly where that would lead.

  Jen ignored the heat scorching her cheeks. “He’s not my husband.”

  “Oh?” Trudy’s pink mouth stayed suspended in a perfect oval for a moment, her perfectly manicured eyebrows lifting. “Boyfriend, then?”

  Jen shook her head. “We’re just friends.”

  Just friends, she repeated silently. That was all. Last night was a onetime thing. A moment of weakness for them both that would never happen again.

  I want you, Jen. But I need to concentrate on rebuilding a relationship with Margaret...

  She looked down and shoved her hands in her pockets, the pain in her chest strengthening. Colt had chosen to do the honorable thing and focus on supporting his sister. Something she’d promised to do as well.

  Jen repeated her words with conviction. “We’re friends. That’s all.”

  Trudy giggled and leaned in, whispering, “Well, he sure is a handsome devil.”

  “Yeah.” She forced a grin. That was something she couldn’t argue with.

  The shopkeeper’s smile widened. “I’ll just slip these to our VIP and see how she’s doing.”

  Trudy swept off toward the dressing room, the aroma of hair spray and floral perfume trailing in her wake.

  Jen rubbed her brow and headed for an empty chair, avoiding Colt’s narrowed eyes as she sat next to him. He’d studied her with the same expression almost a dozen times across the breakfast table this morning and at least once every mile during the drive into town.

  “You all right?” he asked, leaning forward and propping his elbows on his knees.

  He’d rolled his sleeves up and the defined muscles of his forearms were on full display as he dangled his hands between his legs. Hands that had caressed every part of her last night. Skilled fingers that had—

  “Yeah.” Jen cleared her throat, trying not to savor his spicy, male scent. “I’m fine.”

  He dipped his blond head in the direction of the dressing room. “Margaret getting close to finishing up?”

  Jen nodded. “I think she’s on the last round. We should be able to head out soon.”

  “Thank God for that.” Colt chuckled. “I’ve never spent this much time shopping in my entire life.”

  A fresh surge of longing coursed through Jen at the deep tone of his laugh and wide smile.

  She stifled a groan of frustration. He’d shaved. So what? The look wasn’t that different. His eyes were still the same crystal blue she’d admired countless times in the past—without this strong a reaction. His features were still as handsome as they’d always been—no surprise there.

  “I told you this morning that you didn’t need to drive us,” she said. “Cissy gave me good directions and I’d have found the place okay.”

  “I know.” His mouth wobbled slightly, the smile slipping from the sensual curves. “I wanted to come. Wanted to spend time with Margaret.” His voice lowered, his lips barely moving as he continued, “And with you.”

  Jen stilled. That was what it was. She’d never had a clear view of his lips before. And now she knew exactly how they felt when he—

  She tore her eyes from his face and focused on the floor, hoping he didn’t notice the heat snaking down her neck at the last three words he’d said.

  “Jen.” Colt shifted, his tanned hand landing gently on her thigh. “I...”

  The heat of his palm seeped through the denim of her jeans and trailed up her leg to pool in her belly. She tensed then pulled away, fighting the urge to lean into him.

  He muttered a curse, withdrawing his hand and shuffling his boots awkwardly across the floor.

  Jen gritted her teeth and stared at the dressing room door. Colt had touched her out of habit, just as he had a thousand times over the past several years. She was sure of it. And she wouldn’t look for something more. Something a friend wouldn’t notice or anticipate. And something she was ashamed to admit she still craved despite their agreement to forget.

  Jen closed her eyes and blew out a breath. What a great friend she was. Lusting after a grieving man. Wanting things he would never have agreed to last night had she not pushed.

  It was time to set this longing for Colt down. Put it behind her and get back to the business of racing—the one thing she should be focused on above all others. The success she’d worked so hard for was too precious to let slip away because of one night of weakness.

  “We need to talk,” he said in a low rasp. “I know I said we should put last night behind us but—”

  “How’s this look?”

  The dressing room door squeaked on its hinges as Margaret emerged, strutting to a stop in front of them.

  Grateful for the distraction, Jen scooted to the edge of her chair and waved a hand. “Turn around so I can get the full effect.”

  Margaret did, then propped her hands on her hips and tipped her head back, her blond curls bouncing under her tan cowgirl hat. The blue button-down shirt she wore matched her eyes and the jeans fit perfectly with the aid of a wide belt.

  “Ms. Trudy said it’s authentic Western wear and that it’s just right for staying on a ranch,” Margaret said. She touched her jeans pocket. “There are rhinestones just like yours, Ms. Jen.” She pointed a toe and turned her foot from side to side. “And the boots have pink stitching, too.”

  Jen laughed, unexpected pleasure bubbling in her belly and easing her discomfort. “They certainly do.”

  She had to hand it to Trudy. The brown boots with pink accents suited Margaret perfectly. As did the rest of the ensemble. And the proud tilt of Margaret’s chin made every hour of scrubbing shoes and scouring Trudy’s clothing aisles worth it.

  “I love it,” Jen added.

  Margaret bit her lip and sneaked a glance at her brother from beneath the brim of her hat. “What do you think?”

  Colt stood, his gaze moving from Margaret to Jen and then back as he said, “I think you look beautiful. Like a real cowgirl.”

  Margaret’s smile almost blinded them both.

  It took an additional twenty minutes to pay for the mountain of clothes and hau
l them to Colt’s truck.

  “I’m hungry,” Margaret said, skipping to the tailgate and pointing at a diner across the road. “Can we eat there before we go back to the ranch? Ms. Trudy said they have the best hash browns on the planet.”

  “Well, Ms. Trudy hasn’t been wrong yet, has she?” Colt asked, taking his sister’s elbow and halting her eager steps as a truck swept past them. He held out his other hand. “How ’bout it, Red?”

  He sure is a handsome devil. Jen’s belly warmed.

  Margaret smiled and threw out her hand, too. “Come on, Ms. Jen.”

  Jen hesitated for a moment, eyes roving over the two siblings. They were a striking pair. Colt, tall and muscular, holding his sister’s arm protectively. And Margaret, her eyes bright and welcoming.

  The sight of them stirred a strong rush of feeling in Jen’s chest, but she tamped it down, forcing herself to focus on the training that needed to be undertaken when she returned to the ranch. And it wouldn’t hurt to eat a good lunch before she started.

  She edged past Colt’s outstretched arm and slipped her hand around Margaret’s. She felt the weight of Colt’s scrutiny more than once as they crossed the street, the girl bouncing between them excitedly. They made their way into the diner and settled in a corner booth.

  “There’s so much to choose from,” Margaret said, eyes flicking over the menu and knees bouncing under the table.

  “Order whatever you’d like. If you’re in the mood for a peanut butter and honey sandwich, we can ask if they’ll make you one.” Colt stretched his brawny arm across the top of the seat above his sister’s head. “Though I’m sure it won’t be as good as Jen’s.”

  His gaze settled on her, his gentle expression warming Jen’s cheeks. She grabbed her water and shuddered at how cold it was.

  “I’d like to try the hash browns,” Margaret said. “But they have grilled cheese sandwiches, too.” She leaned forward, brow furrowing as she read the menu. “And they’ve got a chee-paht-el...”

  “Chipotle,” Colt corrected, grinning.

  “Chipotle,” Margaret repeated. “A chipotle burger. That sounds good, too.”

  “Chipotles are kind of hot,” Jen said. “It might be a little too spicy for you.”

  The excited gleam in Margaret’s eyes dulled slightly.

  “I tell you what,” Colt said, collecting the menus and tapping them into a stack on the table. “How about we order all three and share? That way you can get a taste of everything.”

  Margaret perked up. “Can we get chocolate milk shakes, too?”

  Colt laughed. “Chocolate milk shakes, too.”

  The diner was a bit run-down but the service was top-notch. An older woman with graying hair and a wrinkled smile waited on them and took an instant liking to Margaret. She returned to the booth several times to top Margaret’s milk shake off with a fresh squirt of whipped cream and regale them with more anecdotes about her grandchildren.

  The waitress had just left them laughing over her most recent tale of Budd Jr. when the timer on Colt’s wristwatch beeped.

  “Switch,” he said.

  Jen dropped her fork, shoved her plate of hash browns toward Colt, then caught the grilled cheese platter spinning across the table from Margaret’s direction.

  Margaret laughed. “You almost weren’t fast enough that time, Ms. Jen.”

  “Oh, I’m always fast,” she said, winking. “But I’ll be faster once I get back to training. Which is something I need to start on as soon as we get back to Raintree.”

  “For the rodeo, right?” Margaret asked. “Mrs. Cissy told me you and Diamond barrel race.”

  “Yep. And it won’t be long before I compete again.”

  Jen’s hands began to shake. She eyed them closely and tried to still the tremors.

  Catching Colt’s gaze on her, she gestured toward the ketchup on her fingers. “Will you hand me a napkin, please?”

  Colt tugged one from the dispenser and pressed it into her palm. He frowned as he examined her face, and his fingertips hovered against her skin longer than necessary.

  “Bet you can’t be in the races if you’re not fast,” Margaret said, popping a fry into her mouth.

  “Sure you can.” Jen took a bite of the grilled cheese sandwich and ignored the churn in her stomach. “Everyone has to start somewhere. Other than training, competing is the best way to learn. You just have to be brave enough to try.”

  Margaret pondered that as she stared at the chipotle burger.

  “Jen might be right about that burger,” Colt said, reaching for his sister’s plate. “Chipotle peppers are kinda hot. You wanna skip this one?”

  “No.” Margaret brushed his hand away. “I’d like to try it, please.”

  Margaret picked up the half-eaten burger and took a small bite, chewing slowly. She made a face and reached for her milk shake. Her throat moved with several hard swallows and a tear escaped her eye.

  Colt leaned close, an anxious expression crossing his features.

  “It’s spicy,” Margaret said at last, sitting back and smiling. “But I like it.”

  He chuckled and dug into his hash browns.

  “Colt?” Margaret bit her lip, casting hesitant looks at her brother. “If I promise to try harder, would you help me ride one of the horses?”

  Colt stilled. “I’d love to.”

  They shared a smile and Jen’s heart turned over in her chest. She looked away and took another bite of her sandwich.

  “Will you help, too, Ms. Jen?” Margaret asked, brows lifting. “Please?”

  Jen finished chewing and swallowed, thinking of how much she needed to resume training and how little time she had to prepare for the next race. Both great reasons why she should refuse. But they dissipated at the hopeful expression on Margaret’s face.

  She nodded slowly and conjured up a smile. “Of course.”

  The pleasure lighting Colt’s blue eyes stole Jen’s breath and threatened to melt her into a puddle right there in the booth.

  The timer went off again and he dropped his fork, shouting, “Switch.”

  They slid their plates counterclockwise around the table, laughing. Jen took a bite of the chipotle burger and stole a quick glance at Colt. The lines of strain on his face had eased and the sadness that had fallen over him seemed to be lifting.

  Her gaze clung to his chiseled jaw as he drank. She followed his broad hand as he lowered the glass to the table, his blunt fingertips drifting lazily through the condensation. The slow movements were so similar to the gentle touches he’d swept across her skin last night.

  Colt glanced up and caught her stare, his blue eyes peering into hers, then lowering to her mouth and lingering.

  The heat in his expression intensified Jen’s craving to touch him again. The need to feel his mouth trailing down her neck and over her breasts. To welcome the sculpted weight of his body edging between her thighs, pressing her hips into the mattress.

  Jen took another bite of the burger and avoided Colt’s gaze, the heat of the chipotles nothing compared to the blaze of desire spiraling through her. It was best to put last night behind her. To forget. But Jen was beginning to wonder if she could. Or—even worse—if she really wanted to.

  * * *

  “HORSES CAN SMELL FEAR, you know.”

  Colt tightened the cinch on the saddle, then straightened and glanced over his shoulder. Jayden sat astride a small mare, holding the reins with one hand and fanning away gnats with his hat. The late afternoon sun blazed overhead and sweat and humidity attracted every mosquito and fly within an eighty-mile radius.

  “Yep.” Kayden nudged his own horse with his heels, walked him across the field to his brother’s side and said, “They got a sick sense.”

  Colt stifled a laugh. “You mean they have a
sixth sense.”

  Kayden shrugged. “Whatever.” He leaned forward in his saddle, expression solemn. “Now, I ain’t trying to start nothing, Mr. Colt. I done learned my lesson. But Jayden’s right. You might wanna tell Margaret about that fear thing. You don’t want her climbin’ up on Destiny and freakin’ her out, do you? Destiny’s gettin’ kinda old. Maybe she can’t take a shock like that.”

  “Nah.” Colt smiled and patted the brown mare behind him. “She’ll be fine. Dominic said Destiny has seen her share of nervous guests.”

  “Maybe,” Kayden said, eyebrows rising. “But she ain’t seen Margaret.”

  “Hey, Kayden. Look!” Jayden stood up in his stirrups, waving a hand and pointing.

  Margaret and Jen ducked between the fence rails and made their way across the pasture. Margaret walked a foot ahead of Jen, chin lifted and shoulders back, her boots stomping with purpose through the grass.

  Colt smiled. Seemed like scouting out new clothes and conquering a chipotle burger had improved Margaret’s confidence. Well, that and the oohing and aahing Cissy and her twin girls had done when they’d seen Margaret. He’d barely brought the truck to a halt when his sister had hopped out and scrambled up to the front porch to show off her new look. Colt had left to saddle up Destiny before Margaret changed her mind about riding, stumbling upon the roaming boys in the process.

  “She’s got a hat,” Jayden said.

  “And boots,” Kayden added, narrowing his eyes as she drew closer. “You said she got some jeans, Mr. Colt. You didn’t say nothing ’bout her going straight-up cowgirl.”

  “Easy, boys,” Colt said. “I invited you out here to encourage Margaret and give her moral support, not rattle her. You remember how things ended up yesterday.”

  “Yes, sir,” the twins chimed.

  Margaret arrived with Jen close behind, slowing as she neared Destiny and the boys. She drew to a halt and the confidence in her expression faded as she examined the horse.

  “Hey, Margaret,” Kayden said, straightening in his saddle. “I like your gear.”

  Her brow furrowed as she squinted up at him. “My gear?”