Cowboy 12 Pack

by Cynthia D’Alba, Paige Tyler, Elle James, Donna Michaels, Shoshanna Evers, Randi Alexander, Cora Seton, Beth Williamson, Sabrina York, Sable Hunter, Lexi Post, Becky McGraw

  “That’s not a bet. That’s a request. And the answer is…”

  He cut her off. “At the end of six weeks of us living and working on the ranch together, you tell the truth—which do you want; city life and world travel or marriage to me? I bet you choose to be my wife.”

  CLAIRE OPENED HER mouth to tell him he could shove his bet where the sun didn’t shine, but before she could say anything, Becka approached with a wide smile. “Hey, congratulations, guys,” she said. “Wasn’t the ceremony beautiful? I wanted to thank you, Claire, for all you’ve done for Autumn.”

  “I’ve hardly done anything,” Claire said automatically. “You helped out far more. Without you and Autumn’s mom and sister, there wouldn’t be a wedding.”

  “I guess everyone helped out,” Becka said happily. “I’m having such a good time here. Who knew Montana was so beautiful?”

  “We did,” Jamie said. He smiled at Becka and the young woman noticeably brightened.

  There he went again, Claire thought. Flirting—even now.

  Becka moved closer to him. “Yeah. Well, you have certainly done a great job keeping it a secret. I had no idea what to expect when I got on the plane. But as soon as I got here I understood why Autumn fell in love with the place.”

  “Fell in love with Ethan, you mean.” Jamie laughed, a sound that tugged at Claire’s heart despite her fury. From Becka’s expression, the girl was entranced.

  “Well, you know—no one can resist a cowboy, right?” Becka said.

  Claire frowned. Suddenly she didn’t like Becka so much; the girl was flirting with Jamie right in front of her eyes—and they were supposed to be engaged. An emotion she couldn’t identify had her moving closer to him, putting her hand on his arm so the ring caught the light. “Good thing there’s lots of them here at the wedding. You should be able to find one of your own if you look hard enough.”

  A smile lit Becka’s face and Claire felt her own cheeks heat. No doubt about it, Becka heard her message loud and clear, and thought it was hilarious.

  “I guess I better get started on my hunt since this cowboy’s taken already,” she said. “Congratulations, again!” She headed off toward Autumn’s sister.

  Jamie chuckled and slid an arm around her waist again, resting his hand on her hip. “Damn, Claire—glad you changed your mind. I thought you said you wouldn’t marry me if I was the last man on earth. Now I know you can’t wait to be my bride.”

  “Yes, I can.” What the hell had she just done? Was she losing her mind? She pulled away and hastened toward the buffet, grabbing a plate and filling it with appetizers.

  She hoped he would take the hint and leave her to her mortification, but he didn’t. As he took the plate from her and loaded it with more food than she could ever eat, she wondered how this day had gone so far afield. She wanted to climb on top of one of the flimsy rental tables and shout to everyone that the engagement was a fake, but instead she allowed Jamie to take her hand and lead her back up the lawn to the porch, where a sturdy swing hung in the shade. He sat down and patted the slatted seat beside him. “So how about it? Are you on board for my friendly wager?

  Friendly wager?

  “Let me get this straight. You want me to put off the trip of a lifetime to stay here and design your interior and run trail rides for Ethan and Autumn? All because you think that’s going to convince me to marry you?”

  “Yep.”

  “Give it up—the joke’s over, for crying out loud.”

  Mary Needlebaum, entering the house with her young niece, looked over at her raised voice. Claire smiled and waved, then scowled at Jamie again. “I’ll play along for this one day because I don’t want to spoil things for Autumn. But as soon as the last guest goes home, this ring comes off and goes in the trash. You got that?”

  “No—I don’t get it. I know you want me—we’ve got chemistry, Claire. You can’t deny it.”

  Chemistry? Hell, yeah. They had that in spades. And now she understood perfectly what this was all about—Jamie’s desperate attempt to get in her pants. He was mad about last weekend. He did want her notch on his bedpost. And he’d go through all this rigamarole to get it.

  Sonofabitch.

  She sat back and stared at him. “You really think that spending six weeks with you will make you irresistable?”

  “I hope so.” He grinned his lazy, knockout grin. “You spend six weeks here with me, working at all the things you used to love and then you tell me you’d rather travel the world than get married. If you still turn me down, I’ll pay for your cruise around the world and I’ll never propose again.”

  He was unbelievable. They all were. It was high time someone showed Jamie, Ethan, Rob and Cab just what they could do with their practical jokes. “Okay,” she heard herself say slowly, a desire to turn the tables on Jamie and the rest of them growing within her. They weren’t the only ones who could play games. She’d take the opportunity Jamie was handing her to make his life miserable. And if she could figure out a way to get back at the other men, she’d do that, too. When her six weeks were up, she’d hop on that boat—free of charge. Not like she’d planned to leave tomorrow, anyway. “I’ll take that bet. Under one condition,” she added when he began to smile.

  “Anything,” he said.

  She fixed him with a triumphant gaze. “You can’t touch me during those six weeks—not one touch,” she said. His smile disappeared. “And you can’t flirt with or touch any of the women guests who come to the ranch, either—or I automatically win.”

  “I DON’T FLIRT,” Jamie said, indignation sending him to his feet.

  “Are you kidding me? You flirt with everything that moves,” Claire said. She speared a mini quiche with her fork and cut it in two. Judging by the smirk on her face, she thought she had him by the short hairs.

  Actually, she did.

  “It doesn’t mean anything,” he tried again. She had to know that. Flirting was like breathing to him—people expected him to act that way.

  “Whatever. Those are my terms.”

  “But…there’s bound to be women among the guests. How do I talk to them?”

  She put down her fork and raised an eyebrow. “Really? You don’t know how to talk to women without flirting with them? No, why am I even surprised? Of course you don’t.” She shook her head. “Just talk to them. Pretend they’re men.”

  Jamie turned away. Hell, she had him this time. He didn’t mean to do it, but flirting came as naturally as the beating of his heart and it made life a hell of a lot easier. A smile and a look, and women just took care of your needs. It wasn’t his fault God gave him a handsome face. He wasn’t stuck up about it, either. He knew what he had and he used it to make other people happy, and if that meant flirting with a pretty girl at the local takeout place or an older woman manning the desk at some office in town, why not? It didn’t hurt anyone.

  And if he’d slept with women from time to time during the years, so what? He wasn’t a monk. He’d always known the minute he got Claire’s attention all that would stop. And so it had. Except she’d instantly gone off with that Daniel guy.

  Claire watched him, her sharp blue eyes taking in all the arguments he wasn’t speaking out loud. If he couldn’t touch her, then how was he supposed to convince her during their six weeks’ time together that she belonged with him back on the Cruz ranch?

  By letting her figure it out all by herself.

  He considered that notion and nodded. She couldn’t tell him that she didn’t itch to be back among the Cruz horses, training them, riding them, living and breathing those magnificent beasts. Claire rode like the wind and understood animals better than she did people—just like him. Five weeks on the ranch while she designed his interior, and one week helping him run the trail rides and she’d be hooked all over again.

  He hoped. Because if she left Montana to travel the world he didn’t know what he would do. All his plans depended on her marrying him. Besides, he didn’t think world travel was the
answer for her, either. A few years ago when she’d started hanging around the ranch again, she’d been happier than he’d seen her in years. Then she’d quit coming. These days she looked so pale and drawn he knew she was miserable. She was doing a good job keeping that fake smile plastered on her face anytime Ethan or Autumn or one of the guests wandered by, but her eyes gave her away. Maybe a trip around the world would bring the bounce back to her step, but he doubted it. Something was really wrong with Claire and his gut told him she needed to come home—to the ranch, to her family—to her horses, or she might get to a place where she couldn’t be healed.

  “Deal,” he said aloud and her eyebrows shot up.

  “Really? You think you can handle six whole weeks without flirting with or touching a woman?” Her playful tone was at odds with the coldness in her eyes, and for one second Jamie thought he was getting close to the truth behind the mystery of her defeated expression. Some man had hurt her—bad. Ledstrom? The thought made him clench his fists.

  “Easy,” he forced himself to say. Well, not really, but hell—he should be able to survive it. Most guys did, right?

  She laughed, a sound too bitter to suit him. “Well, this I gotta see. Okay, I’m in, too.” She put out a hand and he shook it, reveling in touching her. He pulled her in and stole a kiss, not surprised when she pushed him away roughly.

  “See—you can’t even last a minute.”

  “Our bet hasn’t started yet.”

  “When does it start?”

  “Tomorrow. And you have to keep that ring on until the bet’s done.”

  She pulled her hand back and wiped it on her dress, then tugged at the ring he’d put on her finger. He hadn’t meant it to be so small she couldn’t get it off, but he liked seeing it there. Liked that she was stuck with it. “And if I lose?” she asked.

  “If you lose, that ring stays on your finger forever, and we get married on Labor Day. I happen to know the lawn will be free that day.” He waved a hand to encompass the wedding festivities in front of them.

  “This is ridiculous.”

  He sat back and gazed at her. “Are you afraid I’m capable of not flirting for six weeks or are you afraid you actually want to marry me?”

  “Neither.”

  He crossed his arms. “If it’s neither, then you shouldn’t be worried about the bet.”

  “You’re such a pain in the ass.” Her sharp face had grown even paler.

  “Yeah, but I’m a pain in the ass who’s completely in control of my libido. Ah, you didn’t think I knew fancy words like that, did you? I’m a surprising guy.” He grinned again, and watched her fight her reaction to it. Fury, desire, and for one split second, anguish. Then she forced her face into its familiar pleasant expression.

  “Your libido is in no way under control,” she said. “You’ll lose before we even hit the trail with those greenhorns, and I’ll laugh myself all the way back to Billings and onto my round-the-world tour. And even if you don’t, nothing can convince me to marry you.”

  Jamie smiled as she walked away. He might be facing the toughest six weeks of his life, but, oh, the reward was going to be sweet.

  Chapter Three

  ‡

  SHE WAS LOSING her mind.

  How else to explain the seesaw of emotions she’d felt during this endless day? Happiness for Ethan mixed with the ache that came from knowing no man had ever loved her the way he loved Autumn. Fury at Rob’s stupid trick. Sadness that her parents weren’t here on the most important day of their son’s life. Dread of her own future.

  All mixed up with the swirl of lust and anger Jamie’s fake proposal and bet stirred up within her. Libido was certainly the word for the day. She didn’t know if it was Ethan and Autumn’s tangible love for each other, the romance of the wedding, or Jamie’s talk about getting married but she wanted to feel his hands on her body, and she more than anyone knew that desire led to nothing but heartbreak.

  Although she tried to put some distance between them, Jamie sat next to her at the head table when the real dinner started, and took advantage of the situation by brushing her arm, bumping her shoulder and re-filling her champagne glass at every opportunity. When she confronted him angrily, he smiled his slow smile and reminded her that their bet didn’t start until the next day. As more and more people stopped by to offer their congratulations, Claire realized how hard it was going to be to undo this farce.

  Thank God she already planned to travel for at least a year. Maybe by the time she came back, gossip would have died down.

  As dusk set in, the Cruz lawn was lit by fairy lights and the band began to throw in some slow songs among all the popular dance tunes. When Jamie appeared by her side again and pulled her to the dance floor, Claire threw caution to the wind and actually let him draw her in close. After all, everyone thought they were engaged.

  She scanned the crowd, noting Rob dancing with Autumn’s friend, Becka, and Cab Johnson squiring Rose Bellingham around the floor.

  “See, this isn’t so bad,” Jamie said.

  She made a face. “It is now that you’re talking.” But he was right; it felt good to be in his arms. Too damn good.

  “You know you belong here.”

  On the Cruz ranch or in his embrace? “Never. Get that in your head right now. I’m not marrying you and I’m not coming back here to live.”

  Jamie abruptly stopped swaying to the music. He took her hand and pulled her through the couples.

  “Where are we going?” She tried to tug free, but he gripped her tighter, probably guessing she wouldn’t make a scene. He nodded at friends and acquaintances as he dragged Claire across the lawn, around the back of the house and toward the stables.

  When she saw their destination, she dug in her heels. “No. No way.”

  “Come on, quit squirming. You’ve been in the barn before.”

  “Not in a hell of a long time.” She pulled him to a stop. “I don’t want to do this. Not now.” She wobbled slightly where she stood. Too much damn champagne.

  “Too bad. You’re going to do it.” Wrapping an arm around her waist, he practically shoved her into the stable, flicking on the light by the door.

  The pungent smell of the horses took her immediately back to the long days of her childhood spent mucking out stalls, oiling saddles, and curry combing manes. Overwhelmed by memories, she looked for Starshine. But no, the mare she’d ridden as a teenager in countless rodeos was long gone, sold by her father when it was clear she wasn’t coming home. Tears pricked her eyes and she forced them back. She missed her horse desperately when she moved to Billings. Cried for her every night for weeks. What had the mare thought when Claire disappeared?

  “Come see,” Jamie said softly, and led her down the center aisle. She heard the mounts shifting in their stalls, saw heads stretch over walls to see who had come to visit. Snuffling for treats. She hardened her heart. No way would she touch any of them.

  Jamie opened a stall at the far end and crooned to the grey quarter-horse within. “This is Storm,” he said, maintaining his soft cadence.

  “She’s beautiful,” Claire heard herself say. She was drawn forward against her will, wanting so badly to run her hand along her glossy coat. Storm turned and looked at her from one long-lashed eye.

  Claire was a goner.

  Later, she barely remembered stepping to the mare, barely remembered stroking her, pressing her cheek to hers, and feeling the acquiescence of the horse, the subtle shift that told Claire this animal would consent to bear her. She breathed in the warm, straw scent of the beast, and something unhitched in her heart, a little give like a crack in a dam. She ignored it, talking to Storm as Jamie saddled her, then took over from him, buckling buckles, tightening straps, her fingers going through the motions as if she’d never left the ranch.

  “Let’s go,” Jamie said, and wonder of wonders, she was in the saddle, riding Storm, her dress bunched up around her thighs, thankful she was wearing her old boots. She followed Jamie, who rode a
bay gelding he’d introduced as Walter. Dusk had deepened into night while they were in the stables, but she didn’t care. She knew all the trails around the ranch as well as the streets of Billings. Besides, all she cared about was Storm. The way she paced, the way her muscles shifted under Claire’s own.

  To be back on a horse…

  Jamie headed northwest, past outbuildings, pastures and onto open range, winding through the rolling land for nearly half an hour before he came to a stop. Claire finally took stock of her surroundings and her heart squeezed. Damn it, she should have known.

  “No.”

  “Yes, Claire. You can’t let the past control your life.” He dismounted and turned to face her. “We’ll only stay a moment.”

  After a second, she, too, slid down from her horse and dropped the reins to the ground. Cautiously, she followed Jamie the final few steps to her parents’ gravesite. The Cruz headstones stood plain and matter-of-fact in the desolate ground. There were no trees to shade them, no flowers, no bench. Her mother and father laid to rest together for all eternity.

  “I came to the funeral,” she said.

  “Have you come back to visit their graves since?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?” Jamie moved to her side, but didn’t touch her.

  She shrugged.

  “Are you still angry at her?”

  She thought about that. “I don’t know.”

  “Still carrying a torch for Mack Mackenzie?” His tone was ironic, but she sensed the question was real.

  “Of course not. What an ass.”

  “Then maybe it’s time to forgive your mom for putting an end to all that,” he said.

  She closed her eyes. Jamie didn’t know the half of it. He thought she left the ranch because her mother found out about her crush on Mack. He had no idea she’d walked right in on them. Mack and her mother, right in the stables.

  “Was it all her traveling? Did you mind that she didn’t take you with her?”

  “Hell, no. I liked it when she was gone.” Claire hugged her arms across her chest, the lie sitting heavy in her throat. “She was miserable here and she made all the rest of us miserable. She wouldn’t have wanted me on those trips of hers anyway. I would have cramped her style.”