Cowboy in Disguise

by ALLISON LEIGH,

  She heaved out a breath.

  “That sounded heartfelt.”

  She jerked slightly, and then looked behind her to see her cousin Ashley who, along with her sisters Megan and Nicole, had opened the restaurant the year before. Arabella flashed the screen of her phone at her, displaying her search results and made a rueful face. “Car problems.”

  Ashley’s brows knit. “Oh, no. Anything I can do?”

  Though Arabella hadn’t even met Ashley and her sisters until that January, she’d gotten to know all of them better in the time since—mostly via text messages. But that didn’t mean she felt comfortable taking advantage of that fact. Ashley was obviously working. “No worries. It’s just the battery.” She wouldn’t allow herself to think otherwise. “I’ve got it covered.”

  “Well, at least order some dinner. On the house.”

  “You don’t have—”

  “Please.” Ashley waved her hand. “You’re family. It might as well be policy.”

  Arabella couldn’t help but laugh. “I know from Adam that half the people who come in here are Fortunes. You’ll lose far too much of your profits with a policy like that.”

  Ashley just grinned as she gave a sideways nod to the hostess who was trying to catch her attention. She squeezed Arabella’s shoulder. “I’ll check on you later.”

  Arabella wasn’t sure if it was a promise or a warning. Either way, she didn’t really see how Ashley would have the time. The restaurant was already busy and Arabella knew it would only become more so as the evening progressed. Adam had said many times how impressed he’d been by their young cousins’ success not only with this restaurant but with Roja in the Hotel Fortune as well.

  Unsaid, at least in Arabella’s mind, was how little she had accomplished so far.

  And she was a year older than the triplets were.

  Evan appeared again with a pitcher. He refilled her glass. “Can I put an order in for you?”

  She hadn’t even glanced at the menu yet. “Hamburger and fries.”

  “Cheese? Bacon? Avocado?”

  “Yes, yes and dear God no. Pack it to go, though, would you please?”

  “You bet.” He slid the menu away from her and headed away again. While she waited for the food, she sent her daily reassurance to her mom—which necessitated several follow-up texts that yes, she was taking her daily vitamins, yes, she was getting enough sleep despite what Brady must have said, and no, just because she was delivering flowers these days didn’t mean she’d stopped looking for a “proper” job.

  Proper in her mother’s vernacular meant nine-to-five with insurance benefits and a retirement plan.

  By the time Catherine Fortune’s questions were finally spent, Arabella had received her order of food. She gave Evan enough cash for his tip before she left.

  The sun was no longer blazing, but it was still a long way from setting. On the way back to her car, she passed a bus stop and sat on the pretty wooden bench in the shade where she ate her fries and hamburger, and dialed Brady’s number—twice.

  She hung up both times before it could ring, though, and finally tossed her phone inside her book bag. Calling any one of her brothers would be her last resort.

  According to the bus schedule posted on a sign next to the bench, the next bus wasn’t due for another hour. She could eat at her leisure, enjoy the shady spot and pretend that she hadn’t foolishly given it all up in New York.

  The hamburger was enormous.

  She still managed to polish it off. Then she slowly dredged french fry after french fry through her mustard and contemplated whether she could stand the humiliation of returning to Buffalo so soon after coming to Rambling Rose.

  On the plus side, her dad would get over his apoplectic anger that she’d defected to the “other side,” which was how he viewed the rest of the Fortunes of the world.

  “Need a lift?”

  She looked beyond her mustard and fries to the street.

  A bus hadn’t stopped in front of her bench, but a dusty blue pickup truck had.

  The french fry stuck in her throat as she looked through the opened window to see Jay Cross sitting behind the steering wheel.

  She coughed slightly and sucked iced tea through her straw, forcing the fry down. “Not from you,” she croaked.

  His lips compressed and she thought he’d drive off.

  But instead, he leaned over and pushed open the passenger-side door a few inches.

  It was embarrassing the way her heart skittered around so easily.

  She stiffened her spine and said nothing. Just raised her eyebrow. She’d perfected the motion when she’d been a teenager—a baby sister’s defense against so many protective older brothers—though she figured the effort right now was pretty well lost under the brim of her baseball cap.

  “Come on, Arabella.” Jay pushed the door open a little wider. Wide enough now that she could see the way his shoulder stretched the fabric of his gray T-shirt. Not so stretched out that it was in danger of splitting, but definitely stretched enough to be...interesting. “At least let me apologize.”

  “For what?” She was rather pleased with the bored tone.

  “For not saying...more...earlier at the, uh...” He looked pained. “You know. At the municipal building.”

  She gathered up the long strap of her book bag and tossed the rest of her french fries in the cement trash bin next to the bench before she stood.

  Maybe it was childish, but she enjoyed the look of relief on his handsome face when she smiled.

  Enjoyed even more the glimpse of his frustration when she turned aside and walked away.

  Chapter Three

  Jay swore as Arabella marched off along the sidewalk. The tail of her red ponytail bounced against her spine and a giant olive-green bag banged against her jean-clad hip with every step she took.

  She looked a lot different than she had all those months ago at Hotel Fortune. But whether she was in a clinging green halter dress or jeans and T-shirt, there was still no mistaking her beauty.

  He nearly strangled himself with his safety belt when he reached over to pull the passenger door closed again. He was able to troll along behind her only because there were no other vehicles parked alongside the curb, and he saw the way she angled half a look over her shoulder at him before her ponytail bounced with even more pronounced vigor.

  He followed alongside her that way for two blocks before she about-faced and propped her fists on her narrow hips, giving him a glare.

  He had the random thought that having her glare at him with those incredible eyes for the rest of his life would be better than having a dozen others looking at him with adoration.

  Then he thought that there was probably a song in there somewhere.

  He shook off both thoughts and rolled to a stop at the curb.

  “I don’t know why you’re bothering to follow me,” she said testily.

  “Because I want to—” What? Apologize? Explain? “You surprised me,” he said and cringed at his own lameness.

  Her eyebrows disappeared from view beneath the ball cap. It was blue. Not quite as blue as her eyes. And it didn’t sport the name of a sports team. Instead, it just sported an emblem of an open book.

  “I didn’t expect to see you,” he tried again. “There.”

  “Where?” She lifted her arms at her sides. “In Rambling Rose?”

  When the universe tosses you a nugget, you run with it. At least that’s what his manager claimed.

  Former manager. If Michael Devane hadn’t already cut him loose, Jay would have done it himself.

  “Right,” he said to Arabella. “In Rambling Rose. I know I came off—”

  “—rude?”

  “Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. I never intended to be rude. I just—” Couldn’t explain. He switched course. “
Are you visiting?”

  She shrugged noncommittally and folded her arms across her chest. Obviously not going to make things easy for him. But then again, she hadn’t started walking away from him again, either.

  “I hope your visit is longer this time,” he said honestly.

  She looked away, presenting him with her very lovely profile. Her lips twisted slightly, revealing a dimple that he knew was glorious when it accompanied an actual smile.

  “And less upsetting than last time,” he added.

  That earned him such a fast look that her ponytail flew forward over her shoulder. “Upsetting?”

  “After the balcony collapsed.” Even as he mentioned it, he wondered what sort of masochistic streak he’d developed. He didn’t want to talk about the balcony collapse. Especially after his encounter with Detective Teas. “You disappeared so quickly afterward.”

  Her shoulders looked a little less stiff and she mumbled something.

  He leaned across the cab of his truck again toward the opened window. “Sorry?”

  She released her arm-clench and took a step toward the curb. Probably an unintentional one, because as soon as she seemed to realize it, she went stiff and still all over again. “I said,” she uttered louder, more clearly, “my father was anxious to get home.”

  He was pretty certain that had not been what she’d muttered, but he wasn’t going to call her on it. “Once things calmed down, I discovered y’all had left the hotel.” He didn’t add that he’d also heard through the hotel grapevine that their luggage had been shipped back to them. As if they hadn’t been able to leave Rambling Rose fast enough.

  Not that he believed anyone had been responsible for the balcony accident, but if Teas felt the need to be suspicious of someone, why couldn’t he be suspicious of someone making such a quick getaway like that? The entire team working the front desk had talked for a week about how obnoxious Arabella’s father had been.

  She took another half step. “You checked?”

  “Of course.”

  Her eyes narrowed as she looked at him. Then her head shook slightly and the tail of her ponytail drifted off her shoulder again. “Why?”

  “Because I really liked meeting you. Now can I at least take you wherever you were waiting for the bus to take you?”

  She moistened her lips. “I wasn’t actually waiting for the bus. I was—” She broke off, taking another step nearer. So near that she could close the fingers of one hand over the truck door. “I was deciding whether or not I wanted to stay in town. For a while.”

  “I hope you do.”

  “Why?”

  “I told you. I really liked meeting you.”

  She angled her head slightly. “But...?”

  “But...” He mimicked the way she drew out the word questioningly. “What?”

  She pressed her lips together. They looked soft and pink and perfectly, entirely natural.

  Entirely enticing.

  As if coming to a sudden decision, she pulled open the door and worked the strap of her bag free. She dumped it with a thud on the floor and climbed up into the passenger seat. “You can drop me off at my car. It’s still at the police station. Or as you call it—” her dimple appeared, again in an unsmiling sort of way “—the municipal building.”

  Whatever it was called, Jay wanted to go back there about as much as he wanted a hole drilled in his head.

  But since that wasn’t something he wanted to admit, he waited for a passing car and then pulled out onto the street.

  He glanced at her. “It’s a long drive here from New York if you’re not planning to hang around awhile.”

  He received the side-eye on that one. “Or maybe I just don’t like flying,” she countered.

  “Do you?”

  Her lashes swept down as she fastened her seat belt. “I haven’t done all that much of it, if I’m being honest.”

  “I like flying.”

  “Suppose you have done a lot of it.”

  He tightened his grip on the steering wheel and shot her a quick look. “Why’s that?”

  She shrugged, seeming oblivious to his sudden suspicion. “Everyone’s done more flying than me.”

  The tension leaked out of his shoulders. “Well, I have done enough flying to get my license.”

  She looked at him with even more surprise than he felt making the admission. “You’re a pilot?”

  “I have my private.”

  “Which means what? You fly private jets?”

  He laughed. “No. It means I can fly a single engine in clear conditions. I don’t have an instrument rating.” He’d intended to get it but life and circumstances had gotten in the way.

  “You’re talking the tiny little planes, then?” She shuddered. “They look terrifying.”

  “They’re exhilarating,” he corrected.

  “I’ll have to take your word for it,” she said dryly, then pointed. “That’s my car there. End of the block.”

  When he’d left the police station earlier, the street had been lined with parked cars. Now there was only hers.

  He pulled up behind the small tan vehicle. “I can prove it to you.”

  She’d released her seat belt and was gathering up the long strap of her bag. “Prove what?”

  “That it isn’t terrifying at all. I’ll take you up sometime.” He didn’t stop to think about the complications of that particular offer. Yeah, renting the plane would be pricey for a guy on Jay Cross’s salary, but he could explain it away.

  She gave a laugh that was full of disbelief. “My brothers are always telling me my head is in the clouds, but I think I’ll keep my feet firmly on the ground.” She hopped down out of the truck. “Thanks for the ride.” She closed the truck door and quickly hurried around to the driver’s side of her car.

  He watched her toss her bag through the opened window. Then she opened the door and got behind the wheel.

  And just sat there.

  He waited, his curiosity mounting even more when she got out a few seconds later and walked back to the truck. She stopped next to his door. “You don’t have to wait for me.”

  “Blame it on my upbringing. A guy just doesn’t drive away until the girl is safe inside.”

  “I was safe inside and you didn’t drive away.”

  “Safe inside a car that wasn’t locked to begin with doesn’t exactly count.”

  She showed him the cell phone in her hand. “I have a few calls to make. So, you know, feel free to go.” She jerked her chin toward the building next to them. “I’m sure you’ve got better things to do than sit parked in front of the police station while I make them.”

  He’d been glad as hell to be finished with Teas earlier, but the more words that came out of Arabella’s lips, the less he cared about parking in front of the man’s office now. “You’re not living in your car, are you?”

  She looked genuinely shocked. “What on earth makes you ask that?”

  He shrugged. He wasn’t about to tell her how often he’d had to choose between rent money and gas money. Rent was a roof over his head. Gas meant the means to get to his next gig. “No reason. Make your calls. It’s a nice evening. I’ll wait.”

  “There’s no reason—”

  “I’m not leaving until you leave, too, Arabella.”

  She huffed out a breath. “You know, I think you’re as bad as my brothers.”

  “I don’t look at you and think sister,” he said dryly. “Trust me on that one.”

  Her gaze grazed against his then danced away. “My battery is dead,” she admitted abruptly. She waved her phone again. “But I’m going to call someone and take care of it.”

  The level of his relief was almost laughable. “Someone’s already here.” He gestured. “Go wait on the sidewalk. I’ll pull around in front of you and give you a jump.”r />
  She looked like she wanted to argue, but went over to the sidewalk and he moved the truck around until the vehicles were nose to nose. He turned off his engine and pulled out the jumper cables that were stored in a coil behind his seat. Five minutes later, her car was running and he returned the cables to their spot while she got behind the wheel of her car.

  He dusted off his hands and looked through her window. “How far do you have to go?”

  “I’m staying with Brady. Not even a couple miles from here.”

  “But you didn’t call him for help with the battery?”

  She looked resigned. “Do you have older brothers?”

  He shook his head.

  “Then you don’t know what it feels like to grow up with big brothers constantly thinking you can’t take care of yourself.”

  Lack of personal experience didn’t mean he was incapable of understanding her feelings. “Can I see your phone?”

  She narrowed her eyes at him, but passed the phone to him through the opened window.

  He entered his number and handed the phone back. “If it doesn’t start in the morning, you can call me.” He knew what sort of hours Brady Fortune worked at the hotel. “We can get a new battery installed if it needs one and your brother never even needs to know.”

  “You’d do that?” She pressed her chin against her arm that was hung over the door and peered up at him. “Why?”

  “Told you.” He brushed his thumb lightly over her arm. Just a quick graze. One that satisfied his need for contact and one that gave him the added perk of seeing her eyes dilate for just a moment. “I hope you’ll stick around awhile.”

  Her car engine was humming smoothly when he walked back to his truck and got inside.

  She was watching him through the windshield, looking a little bemused, a little wary, and a whole lot of beautiful.

  Then she smiled, shook her head a little, and put her car in gear.

  He watched her drive away until she was out of sight.

  Only then, wearing a smile of his own, did he pull out onto the road and finally head home.

  And if there was a part of him that hoped her battery would be dead in the morning, he wasn’t going to apologize for it.