Prairie Devil: Cowboys of the Flint Hills

by Tessa Layne

  As soon as the front door shut, Lydia closed the distance between them. “Are you insane?” She jabbed a finger at his chest. “Standing here buck naked, lying to my mother?”

  “I wasn’t lying.”

  “In what plane of reality was that not lying? You told her we’re getting married on August twenty-eighth.”

  “And we might. We were going to have to set a date anyway.”

  “So you decided now was the time? Without consulting me?” His mouth twitched again. Damn him, he found this amusing. “When this plays out, not only will my mother be heartbroken, she’ll disown me.”

  “Why not get married?” He asked it like he was asking about the weather.

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  He shrugged. “We make a pretty good team.”

  “That may be, but we don’t love each other. Marriage isn’t a business transaction.”

  The muscles in Colt’s face pulled tight. “Maybe it should be. Maybe more of them would survive.”

  “How can you say that? I want more from a marriage than a business partner.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Seems like it’s working well for you so far.”

  “Because we’re not married.”

  He widened his stance, which only served to accentuate his magnificence. “We may as well be. We’ve done everything else but blend our finances.”

  “Is that so?”

  “I know plenty of married couples who don’t talk as much as we do.”

  “Put some clothes on.” And stop being so reasonable.

  He gave her a saucy smile. “Why? Am I distracting you?”

  She refused to answer. Turning her back to him, she sat on the edge of the bed. “My parents have been married over thirty years. Been together since junior high. They’ve been through hard times, awful times. And the only reason they survived was because they love each other.”

  “Disagree,” Colt said flatly. “They’re still together because they’re partners. My parents said they loved each other and acted like they hated each other.” He practically spit out the words.

  Lydia could hear the pain in them. She swiveled to look at him, anger dissipating at the despair etched on his face. His gaze locked with hers. “Dad was never the same after mom left.” He grimaced, lost in a memory. “I barely remember her. I remember the shouting, the dishes being thrown, the ugliness. Worst? I thought it was my fault she left us. So don’t talk to me about love being the most important thing in a marriage.”

  Tears jabbed her eyelids at the hopelessness in his voice. She couldn’t imagine living in a house like that. The love in her house was palpable. It held them together stronger than glue. And the fact that he’d grown up thinking the demise of his parents’ marriage was his fault? Punched her in the gut. “I’m so sorry, Colt,” she whispered.

  He continued as if he hadn’t heard her. “Love makes you stupid. Weak. You accept shit from people you love that you’d never accept from anyone else. I’m living proof of that.”

  Truth. No wonder he’d ended up a delinquent.

  “I’d take a business contract for a lifelong partnership over marriage any day of the week.”

  “But you’re giving up so much if that’s all you want.”

  “Am I?” His eyes were bleak.

  “Yes,” she whispered fiercely, tears threatening to spill over, as countless holidays flashed in her memory, laughter ringing off the walls, eyes bright with joy, love shared generously. “I could never marry someone I didn’t love. Someone who made me laugh, who held me when I cried.” Oh drat, the tears started to spill. She brushed her eyes hurriedly, hoping he didn’t notice. “Someone who was there to encourage me in my darkest hour or celebrate my greatest triumph with me.” Her voice grew stronger as she laid out her vision of what she knew could make a marriage. “Someone I could dream with, and even if those dreams went bust, we’d build new ones, better ones. You can’t have that without love.”

  His eyes bored into her, the pain in them cutting her to the quick. “That’s a pretty picture you’ve painted, sweetheart. But that’s all it is. A fantasy. Real life don’t work that way.” He stood rigid, muscles hard, as if he were ready to spring into a fight at any second.

  Lydia’s heart broke a little at the realization that Colton had probably never experienced true happiness, the love of family. She swallowed back a sob, heart sinking to her toes. “Whatever happens, however we deal with this,” she said quietly, with conviction, “You better not break mama’s heart.” Or hers.

  CHAPTER 26

  “I have to go,” Colt said, tensing his legs so he didn’t run out of Lydia’s bedroom. Fight or flight instinct raged through him. This conversation felt too personal, too uncomfortable, too… everything. He was good in bed, not good with feelings. “I’ll figure it out, and I promise, I won’t break your mama’s heart.”

  She nodded silently, and looked away. He’d seen her brush her eyes, and he felt like the world’s biggest ass for dumping his shit on her like that. Best to let things simmer down for a while.

  “I’m going to go check in with Travis and Elaine, but I’ll be back tonight. Take it easy, okay? No work?” He waited until she nodded. “I’ll help you with anything I can. I’m decent enough with a pair of scissors.”

  She gave him a watery smile. “That’s sweet of you. I’ll manage.”

  That was code for ‘I can do it myself.’ Stubborn woman. Just like her mother. In spite of himself, his chest filled with pride. Her boot company would be a success, no doubt about it. Marriage business aside, he was happy to help her. He’d handle her mother. And the Carters. Planting a kiss on her head as he passed, he walked down the hall to retrieve his clothes, grateful that Luci hadn’t shown up to add fuel to the fire. Dottie might spill to the whole town that he and Lydia were engaged, but she’d never let on they’d had an entire conversation without his pants.

  He dressed hurriedly. By his reckoning, it would take Dottie all of twenty minutes to spread the word. Within the hour, the whole town would know about him and Lydia. By the end of the weekend, anyone who was anyone in Prairie would have seen the Rodeo Today spread pinned up at Dottie’s food truck. Colton was pretty sure that before Dottie hit the front porch, she was already on the phone to his brother. And knowing Travis, there would be words. At the very least, criticism that he hadn’t followed proper protocol by talking to Lydia’s parents first. Nothing to do but to suck it up and plow ahead, just like he always did. Folks might get bent out of shape, but it would blow over. It always did.

  The rhythmic sounds of the industrial sewing machine carried down the hall as he headed for the door. Colt shook his head, chagrined, and stopped behind her. “You have my permission to take a break.”

  “I don’t need your permission.”

  “Fine. Then give yourself permission. You’re no good to anyone if you work yourself to the bone.”

  “I’ll stop as soon as I finish these tops.”

  “Promise?”

  She stopped and turned, staring up at him through weary eyes. “Yes.”

  Her answer held weight, and an unspoken challenge. Keep your promise and I’ll keep mine. “Be back in time for dinner. I’ll cook.” It was the least he could do.

  Surprise flickered across her face. “You cook?”

  “Hell, yes. Any cowboy worth his weight can make a few good meals. No one can beat my spaghetti and meatballs.”

  “Seriously?” Hunger flashed in her eyes. So she hadn’t been eating well, either. He’d see to all of that tonight.

  “Finish up, then take a nap. I’ll take care of the rest as soon as I get back.” Home. For the second time, the word home had popped into his mind. Leaving a kiss on her forehead, he hurried out. Fifteen minutes later he shifted the truck into park in the wide dirt area in front of his childhood home. Travis sat on the porch, heels propped on the rail.

  Of course, Travis was waiting. He’d already spoken to Dottie.

  Raising his hand
in greeting, Colt steeled himself and sauntered over. He’d play it cool. Let Travis do the talking. That was more his style anyway where the two of them were concerned. Travis railed, he pretended to listen, and then went about his business. As soon as Colt’s boot hit the step, Travis cut to the chase. “Had a mighty interesting phone call from Dottie Grace, just now.”

  “Oh?”

  Travis motioned to the empty chair next to him. “Why don’t you have a seat, and we can talk about it?”

  “I prefer to stand, thanks.”

  “Suit yourself.” Travis’s face remained neutral, except for a tick below his left temple. Colt knew what that meant. He’d seen it, all to regularly as a kid. “According to Dottie, you and Lydia have decided to ‘up and marry’.” He used finger quotes. “But instead of going through proper channels, it somehow leaked out in a rodeo magazine.”

  At least she hadn’t thought to embellish the truth. “That about sums it up.”

  Travis’s feet came off the rail and landed on the porch with a heavy thunk. “That’s it? That’s all you have to say?” Travis cocked his head, as if waiting for Colton to say something.

  But why should he? Travis had already passed judgment. Just like he always did. The scabs began to peel off the old hurts, one by one.

  “You’ve decided to marry the daughter of our neighbors, and someone who’s arguably our oldest family friend, and the best you can come up with is that about sums it up?”

  Colton shrugged. “Yep.” No use explaining, Travis would jump to his own conclusions. Hell, he already had.

  Travis stood and braced his arms on the railing, shaking his head. “I’m sorry. I know we’re just getting to know each other again after ten years, but there’s no way in hell that you’re ready to settle down and marry someone like Lydia Grace.”

  Colt crossed his arms, heat spreading across his neck. “Why the fuck not?”

  Travis stared at him hard. “You don’t have the first idea about what it takes to make a good marriage.”

  “And you do?” Colt shot back. “You’ve been married less than six months, and suddenly you’re the expert? Give me a fucking break.”

  “I do know that Lydia Grace is one of the kindest souls around, and–”

  “And I’m not near good enough for her,” Colt finished flatly, bile rising in his throat. Some things would never change. His teenage reputation being one of them. And people wondered why he’d never bothered to come home once he’d cleaned up his act. Why he’d stayed in Steamboat where people judged him on who he was now, not who he used to be as a screwed-up, scared teenager.

  “Do you love her?”

  Goddammit. Why did it always have to come back to love? First Lydia, now Travis. He could lie. Lord knew, it would be easy enough, and he’d done it often enough in years past. But he’d turned over a new leaf when he’d gotten a second chance. He might stretch things, manipulate the truth in such a way as it helped him out of a sticky situation, but he wouldn’t flat-out lie. Not to a lady, not to his brother.

  Travis crossed his arms, taking a very police chief-like stance. “If you break her heart, there’s gonna be a whole long line of folks ready to kick your ass.”

  “Of course,” Colt answered, more in response to the second statement, not the question. But let Travis interpret it however he wanted. Colt couldn’t control that. Travis didn’t understand what was at stake here. Besides, the agreement was between him and Lydia. It wasn’t anyone else’s business. Their families might be well-meaning meddlers, but what mattered was that he and Lydia were happy with the arrangement. And they were… mostly. A voice of doubt buzzed in his ear.

  CHAPTER 27

  Emmaline looked up from her sewing machine across the room. “That’s like the fourth heavy sigh you’ve let out in the last ten minutes. What gives?”

  Lydia waved her off. “Oh, it’s nothing.”

  “She’s just missing her man,” Luci hollered from the kitchen.

  “Do you have bionic ears, or something?” Lydia hollered back.

  “Nope. I just recognize a lovesick sigh when I hear it. Even from the kitchen.”

  “I–” The denial was on her lips, but Lydia caught a flash of the giant diamond out of the corner of her eye and stopped her protest mid-word. “I wouldn’t call it lovesick,” she amended, twisting her ring. “But I do miss him.” That at least, was truth. She didn’t want to miss him, she didn’t want to think about him nonstop, or look forward to their nightly FaceTime calls, but she did.

  “Understatement,” snickered Emmaline, returning to her work at the sewing machine. “You’ve been moping around ever since Colt left after the boot shoot. Complete with sad puppy eyes.”

  “I do not have sad puppy eyes.”

  “You do,” called Luci from the kitchen.

  Emmaline raised her head, swiveling around. “If you miss him that much, why not join him on the road again?”

  “Are the shoemaker’s elves gonna rip through that stack of leather while I’m away?” Lydia waved at her side of the living room, chaotic with leather, drawings, boots in various stages of completion.

  Emmaline gave her a sympathetic look. “You know I’d help.”

  “But you’ve got your own orders piling up,” Lydia finished for her. “I didn’t expect success to be quite so exhausting.”

  “I know what you mean. And it’s not like I can ask anyone in town to help.”

  “Right?” Lydia nodded vigorously. “We’re so specialized, it would take weeks to train someone.”

  “And I can’t bring in anyone from Kansas City because we still have a housing shortage from the tornado.”

  Luci came in from the kitchen with a bottle of wine and three glasses. “Let’s toast Emma Sinclaire. It’s her fault our businesses have exploded. If only she wasn’t so good at marketing.”

  “At least your family can help you, Luci,” said Emmaline with a note of envy.

  “Yes, but they don’t want to. They didn’t plan on spending their free time helping me pack tamales.” Luci poured out the bottle and lifted her glass. “To our success. And to Emma.”

  Lydia clinked her glass against her roommates’. “There has to be a way we can help each other through this. We’re smart, we can figure out something.”

  Across the room, a phone began to blare out a bluesy saxophone melody that belonged in a strip club. Luci covered her mouth, eyes laughing as Lydia lunged for her phone. “Sorry. I think Colt’s been having fun with my ringtones again.”

  “You guys are too cute,” Luci gushed, shoulders shaking.

  Guilt slammed through Lydia. Would her friends disown her too, when the sham came to light? At the same time, butterflies launched in her chest as she grabbed her phone. “Colt?” Her voice was a little too breathless, a little too excited.

  “Hey there, sweetness. How’s your day been?” Colt’s rich baritone shivered through her, lighting all her nerve endings.

  “Just having a glass of wine with the gals, toasting our success. And our exhaustion,” she admitted, hurrying down the hall to her room and shutting the door behind her.

  “Tell me more.”

  With a voice like that, she’d confess anything. She flopped back on her bed, staring at the ceiling. “Thanks to Emma Sinclaire’s brilliant marketing, Emmaline and Luci are in the same boat I am.”

  “And all this time, I thought it was me.”

  “It is. But Emma’s amplified what you’ve done, and now the boot shoot has gone viral.”

  “That’s fantastic.”

  Lydia warmed at the pride in his voice. “It is, but we’re both in the weeds.”

  “Anything I can do to help?”

  “Stop looking so sexy in my boots,” she said with a smile.

  His low laugh rumbled through the phone, lodging in the space below her throat.

  In her mind’s eye, she could see him stretched out on his hotel room bed, ankles crossed, shirt unbuttoned. Her voice dropped. “Tell me what you’r
e wearing.”

  “You gettin’ naughty on me, Lyds?”

  “Maybe just a little.” Colt loved to tease her when they talked on the phone. Only recently had she started dishing out the same heat. There was something exhilarating about saying the first thing that popped into her head where Colt was concerned. Something liberating. After their conversations, she walked with a little more sass in her step.

  “I wore a blue paisley shirt today,” he started.

  “Wait. Stop. I totally forgot to ask, how was your event?”

  “Ninety-two on a horse named Rizzo.”

  “Bareback?”

  “Saddle bronc.”

  “That’s amazing. That’s your best ride this year, isn’t it?”

  “You know it. And I’m wishin’ you were here to celebrate with me.”

  “I wish that too,” she admitted with a little flutter.

  Colt paused. “I miss you Lyds.” His voice sounded rough with emotion, and the flutter in her chest grew stronger.

  “I miss you, too. Now tell me what you’re wearing… or not,” she let the innuendo sink in.

  “I love your dirty mind,” he said with a chuckle.

  “That’s not all you love,” she blurted out, then instantly regretted the words. Shitshitshit. The last thing she wanted was to bring up the L-word. Not after their conversation the last time he’d been in town. And she certainly didn’t want him to think that she thought he loved her. Oh, crap. Why did she have to open her big mouth?

  But he continued as if she hadn’t said anything out of the ordinary. “Damn straight, darlin’. I love that pretty little ass of yours when you prance around in your favorite boots. And I love the way you clutch my head when you come on my tongue.” His voice had gone deep and gravelly. And his words sent a shot of wet, hot lust straight to her panties.