Cowboy Rebel--Includes a bonus short story

by Carolyn Brown

  She listened as Bo rattled off some more options, and shot them all down without even looking up.

  “A wedding should be about the people, not the place,” he said a moment later.

  She looked up now. “I wouldn’t have pegged you as a romantic.”

  He smiled, and it went straight through her chest like a poisonous barb. “It’s true. If two people are in love, it shouldn’t matter where they are. Saying vows under the stars should be enough.”

  She swooned against her will, immediately imagining herself in his arms under said stars. She’d danced with him at Liz and Mike’s wedding reception last year. And he’d smelled of evergreens and mint. She remembered that when he’d held her in his arms, she’d thought he was the perfect size for her. Men who were too large put her head level at their chests. Too small put them face-to-face, which was just awkward.

  But in Bo’s arms, her head was at the perfect height to rest on his shoulder. Close enough to where she had to tip her face back to look into those faded denim eyes behind the Clark Kent glasses.

  Bo reached for his coffee. “I couldn’t care less where they get married. They’ll be divorced within the year if my dad maintains his track record.”

  Right. Rebecca would be the third Mrs. Matthews.

  “Maybe Rebecca is the one,” Claire said, feeling a wee bit of empathy for the man sitting across from her.

  “Nah. But I am going to have a new brother. That I’m excited about.”

  “You’ll lose your spot as the spoiled youngest,” she pointed out.

  “Trust me, I was never spoiled.” He tipped his coffee cup against his lips and took a sip. “I started working at the family business as a teenager after school. Dad made me save every penny to put myself through college.”

  Claire already knew the history of Peak Designs Architectural Firm and how it had grown from a one-man show to employing all three of Pearson’s sons. Bo was the architect of the group. The middle son, Mark, was in construction management with the company. Cade did landscape design. The project he’d done that Claire liked best was Bo’s own yard on Lavender Hill. The landscape, covered with purple wildflowers, was open and elevated over the water, with Bo’s home—one of his own designs—seeming to touch the sky. She’d often looked out on that home while canoeing downriver and thought to herself that it was one of the most romantic places on earth.

  “I’ve got it.” She bolted upright. “Your place on Lavender Hill is the perfect place for a wedding!”

  “My place?”

  “I’m assuming your yard isn’t taken for the weekend.”

  “It is. It’s taken by me. No.”

  His expression was stiff, but she wasn’t going to be deterred.

  “Yes,” she countered, leaning forward at the table. As she did, she caught a whiff of his evergreen scent, and her heart kicked at the memories it brought with it. Him and her, kissing and laughing. “It’s your dad, your stepmom.”

  He groaned at the mention of Rebecca.

  “And you owe me.”

  His eyes narrowed behind his glasses.

  Yes, she knew she’d gone into his hotel room on her own volition last year. But he’d never called the following day, and she’d hoped he would. Instead, he’d taken a job in Wild Blossom Bluffs and promptly left town. She’d pined for his call even after the rumors had started popping up about them. Some people, more accurately, had compared her to her wanderlust mother. In reality, only a handful of people had talked, but even one comparison to Nancy Donovan stung. Claire wasn’t like her mom and never would be.

  Bo stared at her for a long moment behind those sexy glasses of his and then cursed under his breath. “Fine,” he muttered. “You can have the wedding at my place.”

  Chapter Two

  Bo was in over his head, and he’d barely waded into the water.

  Helping Claire pick out colors or themes for his dad’s wedding was harmless enough. Inviting her into his home on Lavender Hill, letting her rearrange things and set up for a wedding was another.

  And even though he was convincing himself of how awful this new turn of events was, there was some part of him that was excited to spend time with her. The night they’d shared last spring had been amazing. Being best man at the wedding of his childhood buddy and the woman who’d left Bo at the altar a year earlier had promised to be akin to having his appendix removed sans anesthesia. Instead, as the night was ending, Bo found himself kissing Claire, who’d tasted like some exotic, forbidden fruit. They’d both been too drunk to drive home and had gone up to the hotel room he’d booked. Best night of his life without question, even with hindsight and the events that followed tainting it.

  In the morning when he’d woken, he’d watched Claire climb out of bed, looking sexy as anything he’d ever laid eyes on. She’d had that sleepy, rumpled look he found so attractive. She’d smiled stiffly and had made some excuse about needing to go. Then he’d promised to call later, knowing good and well he wouldn’t.

  That was his main regret. What was he supposed to say though? That was fun or Have a nice life? Claire was the kind of woman who men fell in love with, and he wasn’t a glutton for punishment. He’d gone that route once and had been publicly rejected by Liz. He didn’t fancy doing it again.

  He also hadn’t looked forward to seeing Liz and Mike be newlyweds around town. So he’d taken a job opportunity outside of Sweetwater Springs to clear his head. Putting the lovely Claire out of his mind, however, hadn’t proved as easy.

  His cell phone buzzed in the center console of his car. He connected the call and put it on speakerphone. “Hello.”

  “Our new stepmom is in the hospital?” his older brother Cade asked.

  “That’s right. She’s at Mount Pleasant Memorial on bed rest. And she’s not our stepmom yet…not until Saturday,” Bo corrected.

  “So I hear. You’re planning the wedding with the event planner? Isn’t she the one you disappeared with after Liz and Mike’s wedding?”

  “Yes and yes,” Bo said briskly. “I plan to give her free rein over all the details. Dad said money was no object, and I trust Claire’s taste. I just hope she doesn’t mess up my house in the process.”

  “Your house? That’s where you’re having it?”

  “Outside.” But guests had a way of finding themselves inside at events, either to use the bathroom or to lie down when they weren’t feeling well. Bo wasn’t naive enough to think that wouldn’t happen. His cousins would likely want to put their small children to sleep in one of his guest rooms.

  “Well, I’d say ‘Let me know if I can help,’ but…” Cade’s voice trailed off.

  “But you’d be lying.”

  “And I’m an honest guy,” Cade said with a chuckle. “No, seriously. I’m designing some gardens behind the Sweetwater Bed and Breakfast right now. It’s a big job, and Kaitlyn Russo wants it done before the Spring Festival and the influx of guests she has coming in for the event.”

  “It’s okay. Claire will do most of the work. She’s top-notch.”

  “You speaking from experience there, brother?” Cade teased.

  Bo ground his back teeth. “I already told you what happened.” And he took offense at people jumping to the worst conclusions about Claire just because of who her parents were. “Listen, I have to go,” he said as he pulled into the driveway of his home. He’d taken years to design this house himself, working nights while creating the plan. He loved every curve and angle of the structure. He loved the rooms with their high ceilings. His bedroom even had a skylight that allowed him to stare up into the sky while lying in his bed at night. Set on a hill, the house overlooked the river and the mountains beyond. This was his idea of heaven. He’d missed it while he’d been licking his wounds in Wild Blossom Bluffs. But now that he was back, he didn’t plan on leaving again.

  He walked inside, went straight to the kitchen, and grabbed an apple. Taking it to his office, he started working on the proposal designs for Ken Martin. Landing
this contract would be good for business.

  An hour later, he let out a frustrated sigh. He couldn’t concentrate. All he’d been able to think about was that night he’d shared with Claire last spring. And the next three days he’d get to spend with her.

  * * *

  Claire had briefly considered going to school to become a nurse. Then her grandmother had fallen sick during her senior year of high school, and Claire had spent quite a few months visiting her at Mount Pleasant Memorial. That experience had ended any nursing dreams. She didn’t like hospitals. Didn’t like the sounds, the smells, or the dull looks in the eyes of the people she passed.

  Making her way down the second-floor hall, Claire avoided meeting anyone’s gaze. She liked being an event planner because most of the time people were happy. They were excited and looking forward to the future.

  Just like the patient she was here to see.

  Stopping in front of the door to room 201, Claire adjusted the cheerful arrangement of daffodils she’d picked up at the Little Shop of Flowers on the way here and knocked.

  “Come in,” a woman’s voice called.

  Claire cracked the door and peered inside the dimly lit room. Rebecca was lying in bed wearing a diamond-print hospital gown. The TV was blasting a soap opera, and she had a magazine in her lap. “Hi. How are you feeling?” Claire asked, stepping inside.

  “Like a beached whale,” Rebecca said with a small smile. She was practically glowing with happiness.

  “Well, you definitely don’t look like one. Pregnancy looks great on you,” Claire said. “I know you’re not supposed to be doing work of any kind right now so I’m only here as a friend. I brought you flowers.”

  “Oh, they’re so beautiful!…And that rule about no work of any kind is Pearson’s,” Rebecca added in a whisper, even though no one else was in the room. “He’s so protective toward me. It’s adorable, really.”

  Rebecca also had that look of love about her. Her brown eyes were lit up and dreamy. Bo might not think what his father and Rebecca had was real, but Claire always got a good feeling for her clients. She could tell who was legit and who was getting married for all the wrong reasons. Maybe the baby was speeding things along, but Rebecca loved Pearson. It was as clear as her creamy white skin.

  “I agree with Mr. Matthews. You should be taking it easy. We don’t want that baby of yours coming any sooner than he needs to.”

  Rebecca sighed. “It’s just, I’ve been dreaming about getting married since I was a little girl,” she confided. “I wanted more time to plan this out and do it right.”

  “Relax. If you and Pearson are there, it will be perfect,” Claire said, remembering how Bo had told her something similar this morning. “All you’ll remember by the time it’s over is the look in his eyes when he says ‘I do.’ Assuming you can see through the blur of your own tears.”

  Rebecca’s lips parted. “Wow. You’re good.”

  “Thanks. And don’t worry—your wedding day is going to be everything you ever dreamed.”

  “I hope so. The main thing I want now is to have it before the baby gets here.”

  “We’ll make sure that happens,” Claire promised. “Do you have any favorite colors?”

  Rebecca drew her shoulders up to her ears excitedly. “I was thinking that soft purple and white would be pretty.”

  “That’s a nice springtime combo.” Claire pulled a little notebook out of her purse along with a pen and wrote down Rebecca’s color preference. “I’ll see if Halona at Little Shop of Flowers can do some arrangements in those colors. Maybe with a splash of yellows and pinks as well for the bouquets.”

  Rebecca’s eyes sparkled under the bed’s overhead light. “Perfect.”

  “What about food? Since it’s such short notice, I was thinking we’d skip a full dinner and just have light hors d’oeuvres at the reception. And drinks too, of course, for everyone except you.” Claire winked at the bride-to-be.

  They sat and chatted for another ten minutes while Claire wrote down a few ideas. Then she stood up and shoved her little notebook back into her purse. “I promised I wouldn’t stress you out so I better go. You need your rest. But I’m so glad we got a chance to talk. I’m clearing my schedule for the rest of the week to focus solely on your big day.”

  And not on Bo Matthews. Which would be easier said than done, since she would be spending the next several days at his house.

  “Thank you so much,” Rebecca said, bringing a hand to her swollen stomach.

  “You’re very welcome.” With a final wave goodbye, Claire headed back down the hospital halls, keeping her gaze on the floor and not on passersby. She resisted a total body shudder as the smells and sounds accosted her. Once she was outside again, she sucked in a deep breath of fresh air. She walked to her car, got in, and then drove in the direction of Bo Matthews’s home on Lavender Hill.

  Butterflies fluttered up into her chest at the anticipation of seeing him again. But this was just business, nothing more, she reminded herself. And that was the way it needed to stay.

  * * *

  After a walk to clear his head, Bo settled back at his desk and worked steadily, making good progress on his proposal. Somehow, he put Claire out of his mind until the doorbell rang. Just when he’d gotten into the zone. With a groan, he headed to the door and opened it to find Claire staring back at him for the second time today.

  She looked away shyly and then pulled the strap of her handbag higher on her shoulder as if she needed something to do with her hands. Did he make her nervous?

  What would’ve happened had he called her the morning after they’d spent the night together? Would they be a couple right now? Would she be stepping into his arms to greet him instead of looking anxious and agitated? Would she be pressing her lips to his in a kiss that promised to turn into more later?

  Bo cleared his throat and then gestured for her to come inside.

  “I thought I’d go ahead and get started,” she said. “I want to walk around the yard and get a good feel for the size and layout so I know where we can set up chairs and a gazebo.”

  “Okay.” He was working hard to keep his eyes level with hers and not to admire the pretty floral dress she was wearing and the curves that filled it out so nicely. She had shiny sandals strapped to her feet that glinted in the light of the room.

  “I stopped by to see Rebecca on the way here and brought her flowers.” Claire held up her hand. “Don’t worry. I didn’t cause any stress. But she did give me her color preferences though.”

  “That’s good,” Bo said.

  “I was thinking we should keep things simple. Even though your father said no expense spared, less is more depending on the venue. Your yard is the absolute perfect place for a wedding. The view is amazing, and as long as there’s good music and food, it’ll be as nice as some of the bigger events I plan in pricier spots.”

  Bo wasn’t going to argue with her about saving money. Especially since his father was likely to have another wedding sometime in the next five years if history repeated itself.

  “Feel free to walk around and do whatever you need to do,” he said. As long as she kept her distance from him. He needed to work, and he had a feeling his brief streak of productivity was now broken for the rest of the afternoon. “There’s a spare key on the kitchen counter for you to use over the weekend. You can come and go as you need.” He gestured toward the back door. “That’ll take you to the gardens. Let me know if you have any questions.”

  “Thanks.” She turned and headed in the direction he pointed. His gaze unwillingly dropped as he watched her walk away. With a resigned sigh, he returned to his office to work.

  This is going to be a very long three days.

  An hour and a half later, he lifted his head to a soft knock on his open door. Then the door opened, and there was Claire, her cheeks rosy from her walk outside. The wind off the river was sometimes cool this time of year, and the humidity had left her hair with a slight wave to it. �
��Sorry to disturb you.”

  She’d been polite and civil toward him since their new arrangement. Whatever resentment she harbored toward him, she’d locked it away for the time being. The same way he was doing his best to keep his attraction toward her under wraps. “What do you think?” he asked. “Will Lavender Hill work?”

  She nodded. “You have quite a few acres of land. We’ll need to set up a few Porta Potties somewhere out of sight so that guests don’t come in and out of your house all night. I think three will be enough, and I know a company that can arrange that on short notice. I’ll also be having wooden fold-out chairs delivered. We rent them, and the company typically picks them back up on the day after the ceremony. The ground is nice and firm, and I checked the weather for Saturday. Sweetwater Springs isn’t expecting rain again until later next week.”

  “Sounds like everything is falling into place.”

  “There’s still more to do, of course. There are so many things to consider when you’re planning an event for nearly a hundred people. But first I was thinking about having some food delivered. I’m starving, and I can’t think when my stomach is growling. Are there any pizza places around here that deliver?”

  He thought for a moment. “Jessie’s Pizza delivers. It’s my favorite.” Just thinking about it made his mouth water. “The number is on my fridge.”

  She gave him a strange look as if she was debating whether to say something else. With a soft eye roll that he suspected was at herself rather than him, she folded her arms across her chest and met his gaze. “Are you hungry? I certainly can’t eat a whole pie.”

  This was where he should practice self-control and say no. “I haven’t eaten all day, actually. But if we’re sharing, I’m buying. It’s the least I can do considering the pinch my dad has put you in.”

  “Great. What do you like on your pizza?”

  “I like it all,” he said, not intending for the sexual tone in his voice.

  Claire’s skin flushed. “Okay, well, um…I’ll let you work until it gets here,” she called over her shoulder as she headed back out of his office.