Mine Would Be You: A Bad Boy Rancher Love Story (The Dawson Brothers Book 3)

Home > Romance > Mine Would Be You: A Bad Boy Rancher Love Story (The Dawson Brothers Book 3) > Page 69
Mine Would Be You: A Bad Boy Rancher Love Story (The Dawson Brothers Book 3) Page 69

by Ali Parker


  I climbed up onto my horse and started to make my way across the field when I heard her calling after me. "Wait, I need to talk to you."

  I pulled back on the reins and looked down at her. "Is this about something that I don't know or do?"

  She glared at me and I withheld a laugh. "I'm an agent. I heard you sing last night."

  That was it! She was the woman from the night before at Kinsey's. I had noticed her while I was singing and then when I finished she stood up like she wanted to talk to me, but unfortunately knocked the tray off the waitress's hands, then stumbled due to a few too many pints – or that was my best guess.

  The last thing I saw before ducking out of the bar was Norm, the owner of the hotel next door, trying to help her back to her feet and her swatting at him while also trying to wipe beer off of her clothes and Ashley's breasts. Of course, she hadn't been the first one to spill beer in the bar. Ashley was always tipped extremely well and it had absolutely nothing to do with her mediocre waitressing skills.

  "Oh, yeah," I said, "I saw you. You seemed to have a pretty nasty spill, there. Are you all right?"

  She shook her head as her pretty cheeks colored pink. "I'm fine."

  "It looked like you had had just a bit too much to drink. Did Norm help you back to the hotel?"

  "I did not have too much to drink. I only had two beers. I think. Maybe three. Look, I’m small, and was very hungry, and sometimes those two things don't play nicely with each other. And, yes, Norm helped me back to the hotel. He’d been hitting on me all night, and this morning when I found him in the lobby I thought he had come back to bug me some more, so I might have caused somewhat of a scene. I'm not entirely positive I am welcome back there this evening. He did, however, give me this address and tell me that I could find you here. He didn't tell me that it was a damn ranch."

  The words all seemed to pour out of her like she had been holding them all inside and they ran out of room. When she finished, she looked flustered, feisty and enticingly beautiful.

  "We've been over that."

  "You're David."

  I rolled my eyes at her and started my horse walking again. "And we are back to recapping my life."

  "I'm sorry," she called after me, "I'm Sarah."

  I pulled my horse to a stop and turned to stare at her. She was doing her teetering, wiggly walk up to me, holding her hands up at shoulder level and looking down at her feet as if she was worried she would sink completely into the ground and disappear at any second. This was definitely not a girl who had grown up near fields and ranch hands.

  "I didn’t realize they made girls as small as you."

  She wrinkled her nose at me and seemed to pull herself up trying to make herself taller.

  "Not funny. I’m petite. So what? I pack a punch, so watch yourself, cowboy.”

  "Why is that a complete turn on?” I asked, trying not to laugh at her idle threats.

  She gave a sigh that would have made my mother proud and shook her head. "Be serious, please. I just want to talk to you for a few minutes."

  The more exasperated she got, the more adorable she was, but that wasn't enough to convince me about the whole agent thing. Agents, especially beautiful female ones, didn't just show up in my town. I would have ventured to say that there weren’t even any agents, beautiful women or otherwise, who would even know how to get here or that it was even a place. I wasn't sure what she was up to, but whatever it was, I wasn't going to make it easy on her.

  "Like I said, I have a lot of work I've got to get done. I'm happy to talk with you, but you're going to have to come along with me."

  I prodded my horse into a walk and Sarah started her wiggle, speeding up to try to keep pace with me.

  She seemed to be getting a bit more accustomed to the ground and didn't look quite as out of control as she moved, but that meant that I didn't get to enjoy as much of her hips swaying beneath her skirt and her breasts bouncing in that prim little suit jacket. I stopped at the next feeding point and hopped down. Grabbing on to one of the bales of hay, I lifted it up to my chest. Her eyes widened slightly and a smile came to my lips.

  Tossing the bale over the fence, I turned around to grab another one and found her latched to the twine bindings of one, pulling with everything she had in her to try to lift it out of place.

  "Sarah," I said, but she didn't stop. "Sarah." I raised my voice a little louder and she yanked harder, "Sarah!"

  My last shout corresponded with her losing her grip and falling backwards onto her sweet little ass with several pieces of hay clutched firmly in each hand.

  "Those things are so much heavier than they look," she said, accepting the hand I held out to her and letting me help her to her feet.

  "Please don't try to do that again."

  She looked down at her hands, realizing that she was still holding the hay, and dropped it, wiping her hands off on her skirt. "Are you done now?"

  I scoffed. "Not even close. I have to head back to the barn. You aren't going to be able to walk there." I climbed back onto my horse and reached down for her. "Come on up."

  "On your horse?" she said, sounding appalled at the concept.

  "Yeah. What's the problem?"

  "Won't it hurt him to carry two people?"

  "I hardly think you qualify as a whole person."

  "Wow, that's offensive."

  "These horses routinely carry the ranch hands around and trust me, there are a few of those men that would probably outweigh us even if we added another one of you. Come on."

  I reached for her again, but she still looked hesitant.

  "I'm wearing a skirt," she said.

  I leaned all the way down and wrapped my arm around her waist, flinging her up onto the horse behind me as I sat back up. She squealed and when she landed, her hands moved to my hips to stabilize her.

  "You should have thought about that before you came to a ranch," I told her.

  "I didn't know I was going to a ranch," she snapped.

  I prodded my horse forward and Sarah gasped at the sudden movement, increasing her grip with her hands and tightening her thighs on either side of me. The position had pushed her pleated skirt up nearly to her hips and I could feel the warmth of her skin through her pantyhose as she held her body close to mine.

  When we got back to the barn I helped her down, briefly letting her brush against my chest as I lowered her to her feet. She watched me unhitch the trailer from my horse, pull it into place inside the barn, and then lead the animal into her stall. I started grooming her, and Sarah grabbed another brush from the wall and stroked the horse's side with it, not helping, but entertaining herself while I worked.

  "Have you always worked here?" she asked.

  "Yep. My whole life. My parents own it now, my grandparents owned it before them, and my great-grandparents owned it before them."

  "So you'll own it someday?" she asked, her voice taking on a slightly softer tone.

  "I have three brothers," I said, carefully brushing the horse's neck. "We'll have to figure it out one day, but not today. I need to go check on some of the cattle."

  She fell into step beside me and we walked in a strangely comfortable silence down the well-worn dirt trail that led to the nearest pen. Ted would be giving the calves their shots and tagging them, and it was always helpful to have an extra set of hands around to help. When we got to the pen she watched Ted tag one of the calves as tears filled her eyes.

  A pang of sympathy ran through me. Ranch work wasn’t for everybody.

  "It's just like getting your ears pierced," I reassured her. "They barely even notice it's happening and it's much better than branding."

  She nodded and watched me climb into the pen so that I could help give shots to the new calves. It was something I had been doing since I was old enough to mount a horse and hold one of the vaccine guns, but she was looking at me with fascination that made her eyes gleam.

  ***

  Three hours later Sarah had watched me and haph
azardly helped me go through most of my work for the day, and I realized that we hadn't talked about my singing at all.

  "You never got around to telling me what you wanted to talk to me about," I told her as I walked her back toward the front of the ranch.

  "Oh. Well, I was impressed by your singing last night. I would love the chance to hear more and talk about your future in the music industry. Are you singing at the bar tonight?"

  I shook my head. "Not tonight."

  "Then I guess I'll be back here tomorrow," she said.

  I gave her a quizzical look, but she just smiled and walked away. She was almost to her car when Ted stepped up beside me.

  "Who was that?"

  "Her name's Sarah. She's some kind of agent."

  Ted scoffed and walked toward the house that none of the four of us brothers had managed to escape just yet.

  "Getting lost in fairy tales again?" he asked mockingly. "Don't let her pretty face and sweet voice fool you. She doesn't want to do anything for you. Nobody ever wants to do anything for anybody. When are you going to realize that it's time for you to stop dreaming and start accepting that your future is here, just like the rest of us? You are going to get married and run the ranch, and some day, your sons are going to, and then their sons, on into perpetuity. It's just the way it is."

  He sounded so dismissive that fresh anger boiled in my gut, but even the fury didn't cover up the sharp edge of bitterness in his voice. None of us had a say in the future – we were completely without choice in the matter.

  Chapter 4

  Sarah

  I thought I was going to die by the time I made it back to my hotel room. Walking through the lobby had been like going through the gauntlet as I scurried from the door to the desk, then to hide behind a ficus as I hoped to avoid another encounter with Norm. One humiliating argument about Norm stalking me when he was trying to give me extra towels for my room was enough for me. I dove into the stairwell like an uncoordinated assassin and made my way up to my room.

  As soon as the door closed behind me, I fell face-first onto the bed. Who knew that working on a ranch was so damn hard? I had watched most of what David was doing, and I still felt like every muscle in my body was going to liquefy. I needed to get back into Pilates as soon as I got back to Tennessee. Rolling over onto my back, I stared at the ceiling numbly. I couldn't believe that David was an actual cowboy. It shocked the hell out of me. In my years as an agent I had seen plenty of boys slap on a pair of jeans and some plaid and call themselves cowboys when they had never been more than a mile away from concrete and would probably pee their pants if they actually got near a horse.

  David, though, had the clothes, the swagger, and the roots to back them up, and when he sang it only got better. He had that illusive blend of country and rock and roll that made me want to fling my panties up on the stage and wish I had a better tattoo than the one embarrassing one I had. He was rugged with broad shoulders, sandy brown hair and big brown eyes. Thick muscles lined his arms and pressed through the thin shirt he wore near his back. I groaned loudly as my body woke up to the possibilities of belonging to a man like him.

  It wasn’t about attraction. It was about business. I had to sign him. Getting him would revamp my career and maybe restore my name from the unfortunate incident a few months before.

  He had seemed far more stubborn than I had anticipated, so getting him might mean heading back to the ranch and forcing him to listen to me. If I was going to do that, I was in serious need of a wardrobe change. The power suit may make me look a little more professional in a conference room, but it was definitely not appropriate garb for the fields. My skirt had offered no protection and I surely still had some hay in a few unmentionable places. I checked the time and figured that I had some time to get to the store to buy better clothes.

  That, of course, was another misled thought. A half hour later, freshly showered and in one of the few somewhat casual outfits I had with me, I walked down to the lobby and came face to face with Norm again. Cursing myself for not running straight for the ficus as soon as I stepped out of the stairwell, I walked toward him and his creepy smile. It only got wider as I approached.

  He gazed at me as if my outright verbal attack on him earlier had been a come-hither stare and a little bit of playing hard to get.

  "Well, you look like you are heading out for some fun this evening. Care for a little bit of company?"

  I set my jaw and put on my best polite smile. "No, thanks. I'm actually just going to the store."

  "The grocery is just up the road a bit, but that's been closed for a couple of hours now. Sam has to get home early to take care of his wife. She's not from the neon section of the Crayola box if you know what I mean," he said with a laugh that made me even more uncomfortable. "Just not all there. He should be showing back up there around six or so in the morning, though."

  "That's good to know. What I need is a clothing store. I'm realizing that I might not have packed wisely."

  What I had packed for was what I thought was going to be a life-changing combination of professional glory and hooking up with the man who was now my former employer, and had turned out absolutely nothing like that. I didn't feel the need to share that with him, though. Unlike me, and apparently Sam's wife, we just weren't close enough to get into the nitty-gritty details of our lives.

  "There's a little clothing store up on Main Street."

  "Perfect," I said, starting toward the door.

  "But that's closed too."

  "When does it open again?"

  "Well," he said slowly, looking off into the distance like he was trying to remember something important. "They closed up round about 1985, so I don't think there are any immediate plans for reopening."

  I sighed and walked back toward him. "Where does everybody around here get their clothes?"

  ***

  Fifteen minutes later, I was back behind the wheel of my car, muttering a string of creative obscenities and slurs as I started my 40-mile journey to the nearest discount big box store. I could only hope that I would also find a gas station sometime soon because my poor little compact car was riding on fumes.

  Fortunately I found a 24-hour convenience store. I pulled up to the pump and discovered that it didn't take credit cards so I had to actually go inside. It seemed that the local teenagers swarmed to the store like moths to a garish fluorescent flame. I wound my way through several groups of them before finally making it inside so I could pay.

  I asked for directions to the store just to confirm I was going in the right direction and found out that Norm's version of "around forty miles or so" meant fifty-five. I grabbed a cup of coffee and a glazed doughnut to fuel me through my journey. Landing David as my client would be worth the extra squats I would have to do.

  ***

  The next morning came far too soon after my several-hour jaunt into the wonderful world of shopping for clothing in the middle of nowhere, and I groaned pathetically as the alarm clock prodded me into consciousness. I dressed in my new clothes and started toward the ranch.

  Maybe yesterday was the day that they did all of the heavy lifting and chasing and tagging, and today would be stroll casually through the cornfields discussing hopes and dreams and successful musical careers day. The fact that David already had his shirt off and was glistening with sweat by the time I got there did not bode well for my hopes.

  Muscles that looked like they were chiseled from granite and a few tattoos that would make the perfect exploration from my tongue, however, made the situation much more agreeable. He took off his hat and combed his fingers back through his damp hair before glancing up and noticing me.

  His lips twitched with the beginnings of a smile as he let his eyes scan up and down my body, taking in the tight jeans, white tank top, and fitted plaid shirt that was like a tiny version of his outfit from the day before. I had finished the look off with a pair of dark brown construction boots since I hadn't been able to find any cowboy boots that
were above toddler size. I had my hair up in a ponytail, which felt silly, but whatever. I was ready to take on the day.

  "You look fucking adorable," he said and my heart fluttered. "Useless, but adorable."

  Flutter gone.

  "What do you mean 'useless'?" I asked, jogging towards him as he put his hat back on and started toward the barn in the near distance. "We haven't even started yet. How do you know that I'm useless?"

  "You might not have started yet, but we've been working since before sunrise."

  Damn. I had barely dropped my bags to the floor and crawled back into bed at sunrise. I felt accomplished with myself for having arrived at the ranch by eight thirty.

  "Oh. Well, I'm here now. Let's talk."

  He swung a massive piece of wood up onto his shoulder, and picked up what I assumed was a box of tools.

  "If you want to talk, you know the rules," he said as he walked toward his horse and dropped the wood and tools onto the trailer behind it.

  "Yes, I do," I said, scurrying after him. "Hence the outfit."

  I got to the side of his horse and hesitated. As much as I would like to have my legs wrapped around him, even more so now in his current state of partial nudity, I was not looking forward to another ride with both of us on the same horse. I figured I could walk alongside him while he rode, but if I wanted to live past Tuesday and make it back to Tennessee, roaming across the fields on foot for the entire day was probably not the best plan.

  "Have you ever ridden a horse?" he asked.

  "Yes. Yesterday."

  "Never before?"

  "I rode a pony at the pumpkin patch when I was little."

  He laughed and gestured at someone behind him.

  I turned around and saw a slightly younger, gruffer-looking version of David guiding a horse toward me.

 

‹ Prev