Bad Boy, Big Heart (Heart of the Boy Book 1)

by Andrea Downing

  “‘My super-dainty Kate…Kate of my consolation.’” Chay swung round to pick up his hat, dusted it down, and made a courtly bow to K.C.

  “Did you major in English in college?” K.C.’s question was like a dagger, but he knew he had probably asked for it.

  Dakota took a small step back and looked at the floor. K.C. glanced at her, then back to Chay.

  “I didn’t go to college, City Kate. I’m just a lowly cowpoke. In fact, I didn’t even finish high school.”

  K.C.’s face fell somewhat, but she managed a quick recovery. “Well. You’re none the worse for it, really. Formal education isn’t the be-all and end-all.”

  “My sentiments exactly.”

  But they weren’t. He could feel the tension he had triggered, feel her trying to be nice. Dakota broke the momentary silence.

  “Well. I’ll leave you two and get myself another beer—”

  “Oh, but it was my turn, Dakota.”

  Is she trying to escape?

  “Don’t worry about it. You’ll make it up another time.” She headed off to join the cowboys at the bar.

  Chay circled the hat in his hands. He had to get a grip on his thoughts. College girl. City girl. Summer girl. He could walk away now and they’d be polite when they bumped into each other, or…. ‘Or’ won. There was something about her, the long, light brown hair he longed to reach out and grab, run his fingers through, have it brush his face as they made love…. Uh oh. Where was this going? Those huge, blue eyes, almost violet, so open. And those lips. They were just waiting…. No, this wasn’t going to happen. A summer romance she’d try to spin on after, emails that would go unanswered or texts that would get deleted. Phone calls to ignore. There was never going to be a lasting relationship.

  Oh, what the hell. “So you’re our ‘meet and greet.’”

  “I am. And you’re our ‘top hand?’”

  “I don’t know about that. Is that what Dakota told you?”

  “Well. Yeah, that’s what she said. Aren’t you?”

  Chay gave it some thought. “If being ‘top hand’ is being the one working at the Lazy S the longest time, then, yeah, I’m ‘top hand’.” He grimaced. “And you? Summer job so you can go back to school and tell your fancy friends how you met all these cowboys and got laid—”

  “Excuse me?!”

  That did it. Where did that come from? My big mouth, of course. “I only meant—”

  “I know what you meant! You know what? Your reputation preceded you-”

  “My reputation? My reputation? What the hell do you know about—?”

  “Excuse me.” K.C. started to push past him, but he grabbed her arm.

  “Look. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…I didn’t mean…it was a stupid thing to say. I only meant you aren’t going to hang around here; you’re going to move back home at summer’s end after some summer romance or something.”

  “And did you have someone in mind for this summer romance, by any chance?” She pulled herself up to her full height, diminutive as it was.

  “Well, of course I do.” He displayed his most winning smile. “Me. Naturally, me.” He would do it again, of course. End up hurting someone.

  K.C. stood there, staring him in the eye, her pretty mouth bunched into a tight bud. Then she burst out laughing. “Boy, you really are something. If that isn’t the worst pick-up line I’ve ever heard.”

  “What, your college boys woo you, take their time, then smoothly seduce you? City Kate, we only have three months. Let’s make the most of them.”

  Her mouth dropped open. Her eyes got even bigger, if that was possible. The silky eyelashes curled up. “Well, at least I know where I stand with you.”

  “Great. So let’s get out of here….” Behind her, the band was getting back into position to play. Chay looked over her head and nodded hello to one of the members.

  “Sorry, but no.”

  “All right. I’ll buy you a drink then. I can spin the seduction out a bit.” He placed his hand on her back, a frisson of anticipation shooting through him as he felt the junctures of her spine before running his fingers down the track of it. Beneath his hand, she straightened then relaxed, and the mere fact she didn’t pull away told him she felt the attraction as well.

  Then she stopped. “I have a drink. I don’t need another. And I don’t want to start my first day of work with a hangover.” She took a sip before looking into the glass as if it was something she hadn’t expected, and made a face.

  Chay took the glass from her, took a swig, and met her questioning gaze. “Jack and Coke.” He reached across to a side table and put it down. “It’ll keep you up all night. Not a good idea. Have some fizzy water or a glass of bad wine.”

  He spotted the surprise on her face that he wasn’t trying to get her drunk. The raised eyebrow, the bitten back smile.

  “Well, I’m competing with your fancy college boys for gentlemanly seduction here. Plus, I want you fully aware of what a superlative lover I am.”

  “I’m fully aware of what a conceited, big-headed—”

  “Means the same thing, really.”

  “—Jerk you are. Do you really think—?”

  But his lips were on hers before she could finish. He didn’t know what possessed him, but it had to happen; it was going to happen anyway, so it might as well happen here and now. He wanted to take her breath away, wanted to have her, wanted her.

  “Clear a table for the happy couple, folks, Chay is at it again!” Some wisecracker called over the band.

  K.C. pulled back, a startled look on her face as if she didn’t know what had hit her. He loved it and laughed, then bent to try again, but she raised her hand as if to slap him. She stopped in mid-air.

  “Why, you…how dare you! I mean, how dare you!”

  “What, you didn’t like it? I….”

  But she was gone, marched off to chat with Dakota who sighed, shaking her head in agreement, and put down her drink. They started for the door.

  Dakota leaned in to him as they passed. “Jackass,” she said.

  As she reached the saloon doors, K.C. turned back slightly and he caught her eye. “‘Prettiest Kate in the world, Katie, Kitty!’” He bowed gallantly once more.

  “So happens,” she called back across the noise. “My name is Kirsten.”

  * * *

  Bob Hastings had the sort of build, demeanor, and bearing no one could mistake for anything but western, born and bred. A deep gravelly voice gave out orders and explanations, comments and criticisms, in a laid-back, relaxed sort of way, yet K.C. knew he was definitely the boss. She could tell he wasn’t the sort of man to put up with incompetence, clowning on the job, or any other sort of nonsense—his word was law, even if it was a gentle law. So she spent the morning in his company avidly learning where everything went, how to check-in the guests, explain the equestrian release form, direct them to their accommodations, handle future reservations, give directions, and deal with questions, complaints, and rudeness.

  “You’re the front line, I’m afraid. We don’t expect guests who come to the beauty of the Tetons to be rude, but it happens. You know the type I suppose—they don’t like the bed or one of the maids forgets to put something out, they have a fall from a horse and they want to sue—which they can’t actually do—but that sort of thing. Last year we had someone who seemed to think they were dining at some fancy hotel. Breezy did her best to please the bastard, but even her more exotic dishes weren’t up to his expectations. Anyway, anything you can’t handle, you send ’em to me. Food complaints to Breezy. Dakota can handle horse complaints as it’s up to her who rides which mount, but if it’s about one of the men I try to handle it or Chay Ridgway does. Have you met Chay? He was out before breakfast this morning, I guess.”

  “Uh, yes, I’ve met him.”

  Bob gave her a good, long look as if reading her mind. “Well. Don’t judge a book by its cover. Or words to that effect.” He started to go, then turned back. “By the way, you rid
e?”

  “Yes. English, of course—”

  “So I’d have thought coming from back east. Well, if you can sit a horse that’s all that matters. Dakota or someone will find a minute to teach you western if you like, I’m sure. Or Chay. Won’t have much time for it, of course, but Saturday afternoons after the guests leave before Sunday’s load come in, you may just want a ride.” And with that, and a small smile on his face, the screen door slammed behind him.

  K.C. was left wondering what he had meant by ‘don’t judge a book by its cover.’ Was he saying Chay didn’t live up to his good looks? Or was he telling her the initial impression was not the right one? And then there was the suggestion Chay teach her to ride western. Ha, that wasn’t going to happen. She planned to stay as far from Chay Ridgway as she could, despite the mesmerizing green eyes and dimpled chin, and that bone-melting kiss…. Civil conversation, nothing more—though “civil” was probably expecting too much.

  Left with these thoughts, she took in the glass-fronted bookcase with old tomes about the west, guidebooks on Grand Teton and Yellowstone parks, novels for loan. The battered oak desk was now her domain, covered with the paperwork Bob had left behind, ledgers and account books, and a computer that looked as if it were the original invention. Worn wood floors bespoke years of comings and goings at this ranch, first homesteaded in 1890, well over a century of history that now would include her stay. There were windows behind the desk so that the showcased grandeur of the Teton Range, looking like a painting put there for her benefit, wouldn’t distract her. To the front, the windows looked out toward the corrals, across a parking area that would soon fill with guests’ cars.

  The ring of her cellphone made her jump out of these thoughts, and she scrambled in her pocket to fish it out. A quick glance at the screen said her father was calling, a knowledge that made her stomach sink. Should she or shouldn’t she answer? Despondent, she sank into the desk chair. He would only persist.

  “Hi, Daddy. I can’t really talk; I’m at work right now.”

  “Kirsten, you were supposed to call us when you arrived, and let us know you got there safely. We’ve been worried.”

  “I’m sorry. It’s just been so hectic. I was literally whisked away—”

  “You could have called from the car or while unpacking or something.”

  “No, I couldn’t have. The woman who collected me was talking nonstop, and then I fell asleep, and then we all went out for the evening. There wasn’t a chance.” She could hear the deep sigh of exasperation down the phone.

  “Went out for the evening? This really is the most ridiculous idea of yours. You’re starting a Master’s degree in the fall; for heaven’s sake, what does ranch work have to do with American history?”

  “Quite a lot, actually, if it comes down to it. Look….” Her voice trailed off as she caught sight of Chay and another cowboy coming down the path to the office building. Chay headed off toward the dining room and kitchen, and the other man swung open the screen door. “Look, I have to go. I’ll call when I can, really. There’s someone here.” And with that she ended the call.

  “Hey.” A tall, dark, and most definitely handsome cowboy stepped up to her desk and perched on it, getting very close to K.C. as he did so.

  Were they all going to be this good looking? Or was it the Stetson that did it? All K.C. could get out was a breathless, “Hey.”

  “Jamie,” he said extending his hand.

  “K.C.” She dipped her hand into his and waited.

  “Dakota asked me to get the list of guests checking in this weekend with their experience forms so we can pull out some mounts for tomorrow and move them down. Have you got them?”

  “Right here.” K.C. pulled the list out from under a pile of papers.

  “You settling in okay?”

  “Totally settled.”

  “New York, did I hear?”

  “Yup.” K.C. had the feeling of being sized up, and this was her exam.

  “You need anything, just let me know.” Jamie’s gaze ran down the list, then he scrutinized K.C. over the top of the page. “We should hang out sometime after work. Saturday maybe.”

  K.C. laughed. “Boy, you Wyoming boys don’t waste a minute, do you?”

  He leaned in a bit closer. “Now let me guess. That’s right: Chay. Last night. How did that end?”

  “It ended.” She sat back in her chair and was about to make it clear she had no interest in Chay Ridgway when, speak of the devil, the door opened with a bang followed by the jingle of spurs.

  “Jamie, we’ve got to go. We’ve got horses to drive down before Dakota goes nuts.” He touched the brim of his hat and nodded to K.C., then turned and stepped out.

  Jamie started to follow. “Next Saturday,” he said. “Are you coming to the rodeo tonight?”

  Chay peered through the screen door as if he, too, were waiting for the answer.

  “I…I didn’t know there was one.”

  “Get a lift with Dakota,” Jamie advised. “I’ll see you there.”

  “Jamie!” Chay’s voice held impatience.

  Jamie tapped his hat and took his time strolling out the door.

  K.C. sat there, struck by the business-like tone of Chay, his virtual ignoring of her. She surmised that little episode was finished now when Breezy flew in carrying a handful of flowers.

  “Okay, don’t say anything, no explanation is needed, I heard all about it, but then so has half of Teton County and, of course, Chay is known to play tricks on gals, so don’t worry about your reputation—”

  “My reputation?”

  “Well, of course, you kiss in public—”

  “He grabbed me!”

  “So like I said, no matter, no harm done, and now he’s gone and brought you these to make it up.” She held out the bunch of wild flowers.

  K.C.’s mouth hung open.

  “Oh, I should have brought a vase. There are some in the kitchen. I’ll go—”

  “Don’t bother! That jerk was just in here and didn’t say a word of apology!”

  “Well, were you actually expecting one?” Breezy lay the bouquet in front of her and looked at K.C. “This, my dear, is his apology.”

  K.C. shook her head. “I don’t know.” A long sigh of bewilderment fanned the papers on her desk, before she gazed up at Breezy. “What do you know about Jamie?”

  “Better choice for you, sweetheart. Parents have a big old ranch a few miles from here. Wealthy. Working here because he’s thinking of buying—yes, buying—his own place and running a dude operation. Wants to learn the ropes, though there’s not a lot he can learn without working in the office, which he didn’t want to do. Other than that, I have no opinion on the man. Good looking. Seems nice enough, though there’s something a little too smug about him. Attended Boulder rather than State and now he’s obviously caught your eye.”

  “He asked me out. Sort of.”

  “Well. If I had my pick I’d go for Chay.”

  “Breezy! You warned me against Chay!” She couldn’t stop her wide smile.

  “That’s right, I did. So when I say, if I had my pick I’d go for Chay, you figure out what I’m saying.” And with that she turned to get back to her kitchen.

  K.C. tilted back in the office chair and thought it over. Breezy had left her with a puzzle—that was certain. Was Chay the ‘bad boy’ Breezy made him out to be? Was he the clown he had been last night, or had that just been letting off steam before the season, as Dakota had virtually warned? And, oh my, that kiss still lingered on her lips. And was Breezy warning her about Jamie?

  She lightly fingered the flowers lying there, having no clue whatsoever as to what they were. Most looked as if they might be in the Aster family, but there, among the colorful petals, was one solitary thistle.

  Now what the heck is that supposed to mean?

  Chapter Three

  Chay tried to get his thoughts in order. He could have, of course, just gone in and apologized, but the flowers saved ano
ther confrontation and said it all. Something was stopping him from chasing her; something had put the reins on him. He knew exactly how it would end if he pursued K.C. Daniels, and a little voice was telling him not to. His attraction for this girl was more than to some pretty thing to dangle on his arm for a few months and warm his bed. There was something vulnerable and sensitive in her he didn’t want to hurt.

  “So, that’s the little number you kissed last night, huh?” Jamie’s voice had a tone of mockery in it.

  Chay had to get along with this guy the rest of the summer at least, if not longer, and he was under strict orders from Bob to treat him like anyone else. “I wouldn’t call her ‘a little number.’” He kept his voice calm. “But, yeah, she was the other half of the scene everyone seems to be talking about.” Jerk that I am.

  “I’m amazed she let you. Seems a bit hard-to-get to me, if not downright frigid.”

  Chay stopped in his tracks, his hands automatically resting on his hips. “What the hell gives you that idea?” His gaze raked over Jamie’s face.

  Jamie’s stance mirrored Chay’s. “Well. I asked her to hang out with me next Saturday and she seemed sort of surprised. You think eastern women expect flowers and chocolates before being asked on a date? The ones I knew at Boulder didn’t seem to mind my attentions.”

  “I don’t think you can generalize.” He continued on his way, mulling this over. His jealousy of Jamie Forrest tasted like bile in his mouth. So, Jamie had asked K.C. out for next Saturday. Well, that more or less decided things. “What did you say to her?”

  “I asked if she had settled in, she said yes, and then I asked her out. Must be my devilish good looks that won her over because she said ‘yes’ despite being surprised. Or maybe she was surprised such a handsome man condescended—”

  “You know, Jamie, your wisecracks are not amusing. As for condescension, I think it’s K.C. who did the condescending.”

  Jamie guffawed. “You gonna give it another go?”

  “I might.” Chay stopped at the corral and put a foot on a rail before hoisting himself over. “I don’t think so, though.”

  “You don’t want the competition?”