Cowboy-Sexy
Page 1
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Praise for Donna Michaels and…
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Thank you for purchasing this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
Cowboy-Sexy
by
Donna Michaels
Honky Tonk Hearts
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Cowboy-Sexy
COPYRIGHT © 2013 by Donna Michaels
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Contact Information: info@thewildrosepress.com
Cover Art by Tamra Westberry
The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
PO Box 708
Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708
Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com
Publishing History
First Yellow Rose Edition, 2013
Digital ISBN 978-1-61217-629-1
Honky Tonk Hearts
Published in the United States of America
Praise for Donna Michaels and…
FATED HEARTS
“Ms. Michaels penned a remarkable story that was heart wrenching and heartwarming at the same time. The characters were extremely believable and I was hoping the entire time that Jordan would be the one to break down Cole’s walls and make him start living again. You outdid yourself, Donna. Fantastic job!”
~Diana, Night Owl Romance (Top Pick)
~*~
MEET YOUR MATE
“I absolutely adored this book for the simple reason that I was so caught up in the mystery behind the threats and Jack and Brielle’s `romance’ that I wasn’t able to put the story or the characters out of my head long enough to get anything accomplished. Donna Michaels puts a fascinating spin on the ho hum of reality television that captivated me and kept me guessing and just when I thought I had it all figured out I discovered that I couldn’t have possibly been more wrong.”
~Chrissy Dionne, Romance Junkies (5 Blue Ribbons)
~*~
TEN THINGS I’D DO FOR A COWBOY
“Personally, I love how the work was built around the transitioning of the American Mustangs and burros — a very contemporary and plainly heartfelt topic that adds a wonderful touch to this work…. This is a fun, speedy read; a contemporary western-based romance that is believable and moving.”
~Snapdragon, Long & Short Reviews (5 Books & nomination for Best eBook Short Romance)
Dedication
To the men and women who serve and have served
this country and their families.
Your sacrifice is appreciated.
To the “Hoods.”
My writing buddy, JT. My wonderful editor, Stacy.
My family for putting up with
their non-responsive mother while I was writing.
And finally, to my own Sergeant,
the inspiration behind my military heroes,
my husband, Michael.
Chapter One
“Remind me again why we’re going to the Lonesome Steer to pick up this package from Brett?” If there was one thing Finn Brennan hated, it was the misuse of daylight. Eight years as a Navy SEAL had taught him the difference between patience and wasting time. This three-hour road trip down Amarillo way in the middle of the day was a complete waste of time, especially when there were plenty of chores left to tackle back in Colorado. The dude ranch wasn’t going to run itself.
His brother had sent letters and parcels from Iraq straight to the ranch before; Finn could think of no reason why today should be any different.
“Don’t ask me. He’s your twin,” the older man sitting in the passenger seat muttered. “Could be a Marine thing.”
Finn clamped his jaw. Terry was probably right. That branch of the service produced a lot of headstrong soldiers. He shook his head, keeping his gaze on the road while wondering for the hundredth time what had possessed his brother to join the Corps.
Although they were fraternal twins, the two of them had usually done everything together. Boy Scouts, little league, roping, high school sports—you name it, they’d done it together. Even enlisting at the same time.
“I still don’t understand why Brett chose to become a jarhead. He would’ve made a great SEAL,” he said, not expecting an answer.
“My guess,” Terry Hawkins mused, “he wanted to follow in your father’s footsteps.”
Finn snorted. “The only thing the Marines are good for is collecting toys for under-privileged children at Christmas.”
The ranch foreman laughed. “Come on, Finn. Don’t you think that’s a little harsh?”
He spared him a sideways glance. “Harsh? Hell no! The Marines ruined my life. Dad died for them, and thanks to that damn green Marine in Baghdad, the Corps took my Naval career, my fiancée and left me with a scared leg.” He slapped his right thigh to press the point.
Terry shifted in his seat, but didn’t remain silent. “Your father died doing what he loved, Heather should’ve stood by you, and that recruit didn’t die because you did your job. A job you loved.”
“Yeah, and can no longer do—thanks to that Marine.”
“So…what? You hate all Marines now?”
“No.” Finn returned his attention back to the road and let out a deep breath. “I love my brother, but I hope to God the Corps doesn’t take him from me, too.”
A ray of sun glinted off a ten-foot neon star and flashing bull iconic sign. The image signaled they’d arrived at their destination and promptly put an end to a subject the two would never agree on. The Navy/Marine battle had been ongoing at the ranch for nearly ten years now, and Terry was usually pretty good at remaining neutral where Finn and Brett were concerned.
Silence filled the truck as he turned off Route 66 and into the Lonesome Steer Honky Tonk’s nearly deserted parking lot. When the bar wasn’t in between cooks, the popular wooden structure was opened to customers for the better half of the day. He glanced around. Judging by the sprinkling of vehicles, he’d wager Gus had a cook at the moment.
“A cup of Gus’s coffee would sure hit the spot right now,” Terry said as he got out of the truck and stretched.
Finn swallowed a groan. He didn’t want to stay long enough for coffee. Hell, he didn’t even want to be here, but he was, so he might as well get whatever it was Brett sent. The sooner he did, the sooner he could head back home.
He slid out from behind the wheel, then slammed the door. Hell of a waste of time. He clamped his jaw and strode to the entrance, the long strides working through the stiffness in his leg. Most days, it was non-existent, but driving non-stop for several hours aggravated his injury.
Damn Marine. If he never saw one again, his brother and Gus’ nephew Win excluded, it’d be too soon.
He followed Terry through the door, wondering if the latter was the one cooking today. Win had
served under his brother during the war and was one of the few Marines Finn respected. The man sure knew his way around a steak. But it didn’t matter. They weren’t staying for lunch.
He blinked to adjust to the interior light and a second later had a clear picture of his surroundings; a skill honed from his SEAL training.
The crack of the queue ball breaking the rack echoed through the building as two cowboys played pool to his right. An elderly couple occupied one of the round tables, two bowls of soup and two coffees—the husband liked crackers, the wife didn’t. A lone cowboy sat at one end of the bar that ran the length of the back wall, while at the other end, a pretty, middle-aged woman with silver-streaked, auburn hair was the recipient of owner/bartender Gus Rankin’s fond expression. A smile tugged at Finn’s lips for it was the first time he’d seen the owner interested in more than business.
The lone cowboy turned to check out the newcomers before exchanging a glance with Gus and the woman, a smile cracking his weathered face as he sipped his coffee.
What’s that all about?
“Ah, Finn, Terry, did you have a good trip?”
Gus’s gaze was friendly yet watchful while he wiped the counter with practiced ease.
“Yes, but I’d love a cup of your coffee,” the foreman replied as they continued toward the bar.
“Comin’ right up. How ’bout you, Finn?” Gus filled a mug and pushed the steaming brew in front of Terry who was lowering himself onto a stool.
Damn it. He didn’t want to linger.
“No thanks, Gus.” He waved the bartender off. “I just want to get my package and get back on the road.”
A snicker sounded off to his right. Finn narrowed his gaze on the older cowboy.
What’s so damn funny?
At that moment he realized he no longer heard the cracking of pool balls. Finn turned to find the two cowboys leaning on their sticks, grinning at him like a couple of sailors on leave.
Something was definitely up. He glanced around again, retaking inventory of his surroundings. Had he missed something?
“Your…ah…package is in the back. I’ll tell my nephew you’re here,” Gus informed.
The man’s handle-bar mustache twitched as if he’d swallowed a secret dying to get out. Alarm instantly erased Finn’s doubt. He set his shoulders and watched the owner closely. Trouble was on the way.
Gus leaned into the kitchen pass-through. “Win, Finn’s here for his….ah…package.”
When the owner turned around there was more than the usual twinkle lighting his eyes.
“I’ll tell ya, my brother never sent me anything like this,” the cowboy informed from the end of the bar.
Another round of snickers echoed through the room. Just what the hell had Brett sent? Couldn’t be a camel; Gus would never keep an animal in the kitchen.
His gaze snapped to his foreman. Did Terry know? The older man sat there, mug half raised, frowning at Gus. No, he was the only one not smiling. In fact, he looked as confused as Finn felt.
“You’re one lucky man,” one of the pool players called out.
“Damn straight,” the other agreed.
“Too bad my daughter wasn’t here.” Gus winked at the woman he’d been talking to earlier.
She nodded and returned his smile. “Yes, Keira would’ve loved to see this.”
“Oh, it’s just like Christmas!” Even the elderly couple was getting in on the action.
Finn turned to find them smiling, delight sparkling in their gazes, easing the lines in their happy faces.
“We can’t wait to see what it is!”
The hinges on the kitchen door creaked behind him, and a second later Terry’s mug hit the bar, sending half his coffee over the edge.
About to ask what was wrong, the words died in Finn’s throat. His foreman’s expression changed from shock to amusement to worry as their gazes met.
Finn stiffened. He knew instinctively he was not going to like whatever Win brought out from the kitchen, and knowing his prankster brother, it could be anything. Silently cursing his twin, he slowly turned around.
Son-of-a…
His brother had gone too far this time. He blinked, unable to stop his jaw from dropping. Win hadn’t brought anything out. The present walked out on its own.
Standing not ten feet from him was a tall, curvy brunette with a big red bow stuck to her right shoulder. A long braid trailed down the left side of her ample chest and delicate features graced a face worthy of magazine covers. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen...and the very last thing he wanted. Or needed.
The “package” sauntered closer, and his pulse responded with pinpoint accuracy to each individual sway of her rounded hips. She was model-beautiful, but not exactly model-thin. He noted a full bust, teasing him with a luscious line of cleavage as his gaze followed her white tank top to where it disappeared into a pair of skinny, tan cargo pants lovingly hugging a set of magnificent legs. Damn, the woman was hot.
“Happy birthday, Finn.”
His gut rippled as if punched. Of course she’d have a sexy voice to match. Too bad. He straightened his shoulders and told himself he wasn’t interested. He preferred to get his own dates. He didn’t need his brother’s charity.
“There must be some mistake, sweetheart.” He shook his head. “My birthday is two months from now.”
“No mistake, sweetheart.”
The woman had the audacity to grin.
“Yeah, happy birthday, bro.”
Brett?
It wasn’t until he heard his brother’s voice that Finn realized the woman was holding up a satellite phone. So much for always being aware of his environment. He’d been away from active duty too long; he was slipping.
“Brett! What the hell is going on?” He swiped the phone from the woman even though the device was set on speaker.
“What’s it look like? I sent your present a little early.”
Soft snickers went around the room.
“I’m quite capable of getting my own women.”
A perfect brow rose in the perfect face, and brown eyes the color of whisky, minus the rocks, stared unblinkingly back. Beautiful with an underlying strength—and exactly what his instincts had told him was in the kitchen. Trouble.
“I’m not here for your sexual pleasure, Navy cowboy,” she informed.
The derision seeping into her voice toward the end made his brow furrow further. Did she have something against the Navy? Of course she does, he silently scolded. The brunette was a friend of his brother.
“Finn, I didn’t send Cammie to you so you could play grab ass.” Brett’s deep chuckle bounced around the bar. “Although, I’d pay good money to see you try.”
Another round of laughs trickled through the room, starting with the package in front of him and ending with an Oorah from Win grinning at them as he leaned his muscled forearms on the pass-through counter.
“I want you to use her,” Brett continued.
Finn’s groin stirred, his brother completely unaware of the sinful thoughts his words had caused.
“Use her for what?” He turned his back to the beauty and squelched the feeling fast. She would not be staying.
“Look, Finn, I know you’ve been shorthanded since Josh broke his leg.”
“We’re managing,” he cut in, ignoring Terry’s grunt from the bar.
“Yeah, I bet. Hi, Terry. I’m glad you’re there.”
His foreman leaned closer and spoke loud. “Hi, Brett. Me, too. Thanks for the laugh.”
“No problem,” his brother replied. “Gus, I’m assuming you’re there, too. Thanks for your help.”
“My pleasure. I just followed the instruction per your letter.” The bartender held up an envelope.
Finn instantly recognized his brother’s handwriting. How long had Brett planned this?
“Win, are you there, too?”
“Yes, sir,” the cook replied.
“Thanks for your help as well.”
Finn’s gaze snapped to Gus’s nephew. The former Marine with spiky, straw-colored hair smiled at him through the pass-through. Idiot. Of course the cook was in on it. He and Brett were war buddies.
“No problem, sir,” the cook stated, staring at the phone in Finn’s hand before meeting his gaze. “And thanks, Finn. I appreciate you and Terry driving down here to pick Cammie up. Gave us a few hours to catch up.”
“Yes.” The beauty nodded, a ready smile on her lips as she stared at Win. “We had a very nice visit.”
“I figured the two of you would be happy to see each other,” Brett said from the phone. “Is the Lonesome Steer still standing? As I recall, the last time you two were—”
“Are you done with social hour, Brett?” Irritation spiked inside Finn. He glanced furiously around the room. “Because if you’re not, there are more people around. Would you like to talk to any of them?”
All six patrons hollered, “Hi, Brett!”
“Hello, everyone.” His brother laughed. “Look, I’m sorry to spring this on you, Finn.”
“No, you’re not.”
“True. I love when you’re like a squid out of water.”
Finn didn’t laugh. The comparison hit way too close to home.
“I did this because I still have three months left on my tour,” his twin continued. “I want you to consider the lieutenant my stand-in until I get home.”
Lieutenant? The puzzle pieces slammed together fast and fierce. He swiveled around and narrowed his gaze on his present. Damn. He should’ve seen it.
Brett’s acquaintance…Win catching up…sinfully fit body…
The beauty was a Marine.
Chapter Two
“No way in hell, Brett.” Finn shook his head and held the phone unnecessarily toward the woman. “Tell her to go home.”