Big City Cowboy (Harlequin American Romance)

by Benson, Julie

  “We have a guest. Pull out your company manners so she doesn’t think you were raised in a barn.” Nannette took a slice of beef and passed the platter to Griffin, who sat beside his sister.

  “Rory, I hear Elizabeth got you to revamp our advertising,” Avery blurted out.

  “Where’d you get that idea?” he asked as he accepted the platter from her.

  “Elizabeth said she worked with you, and Mom said she’s in advertising.”

  Rory clenched his fork. So it begins. “We work together, but I’m working for a client of Elizabeth’s who makes designer jeans.”

  “Doing what?”

  “I’m the company’s jeans spokesman.”

  Avery laughed so hard tears streamed down her face. When she finally could speak, she said, “You’re modeling jeans? My brother who there are a handful of decent pictures of after the age of ten, is willingly getting in front of a camera? What the heck would make you do that?”

  Rory stiffened. Who would’ve thought he needed to wear armor to dinner? “I couldn’t pass up the opportunity.”

  Elizabeth laughed. “You really think anyone who knows you is going to buy that?”

  “Now they won’t.” He glared at her. “You could’ve backed me up.”

  “Backup wouldn’t have helped you pull off that whopper,” Griff stated.

  When faced with unwavering opposition and imminent defeat, a smart man turned to diversion. “What’s the plan for tomorrow’s TV commercial?”

  “The crew should arrive somewhere around noon,” Lizzie said, rising to the bait like a hungry trout. “We’ll start shooting in the barn if that’s all right with you, Nannette.”

  “That’s fine. We have some tours scheduled, but we won’t be using the barn.”

  “You’re shooting a TV commercial here?” Avery leaned back in her chair. “I’ve stepped into the Twilight Zone.”

  “Does feel like that, doesn’t it?” Griffin mused.

  After helping himself to a hefty pile of mashed potatoes, Rory passed Lizzie the bowl. She deposited a dainty scoop onto her plate.

  “You need to load up on carbs.” He picked up the bowl of potatoes and held them out to her again.

  “I have some, thanks.”

  “Not near enough.” When she didn’t take the bowl, he dug out a healthy spoonful and plopped it on her plate.

  “I can take care of myself.”

  “I’m not so sure. Remember what happened when you took charge in Times Square?”

  “What happened?” Griff asked.

  Rory froze. He’d actually forgotten where they were—the family dinner table with his mother and siblings watching. For a moment all he’d thought of was Lizzie and how she’d had altitude sickness before, and the fact that she wasn’t taking care of herself.

  He glanced around the table. Three sets of McAlister eyes were trained on him. Avery stared in complete bewilderment. Griff shook his head with pity. His mother tried to hide her smile behind her water glass. “You’re looking at me like I’ve sprouted a second head. What’s the deal?”

  “Nothing, dear.” His mother’s smile brightened. “Now what’s this about Times Square?”

  “Elizabeth stirred up all kinds of trouble.”

  “I’m not taking all the blame for that mess.” She folded her arms over her chest.

  “One of you tell us what happened.”

  “I’m pleading the fifth,” Rory said as he stared at his plate. Maybe if he ignored the question, the issue would go away.

  “We’re not going to stop asking until you tell us,” Griff taunted. “You might as well give in.”

  That worked as well with his family as it usually did, about once every time hell froze over. Rory looked at his mother, hoping to find an ally.

  She smiled sweetly at him and said, “Yes, tell us what happened.”

  He threw his hands in the air and turned to Lizzie. “I give up. You tell ’em.”

  “Rory was walking around New York City one morning. Some women recognized him from the Times Square billboard, and asked him for his autograph. A crowd of women gathered, then they went a little crazy.”

  “Crazy I could’ve handled, but they got grabby.” Rory shuddered at the memory. “Talk about assertive women.”

  Griff laughed. “You never could handle women.”

  “I’ll admit I’m not the master juggler you are. I called Elizabeth for help, but when she arrived she decided I should stick around to sign autographs.” Rory turned to her. “Your turn.”

  “Suddenly everyone was pushing. Coffee went flying. Things were a blur after that.” She sipped her water. “The good news was we got an interview with Wake Up America out of the mess.”

  “Wow, I go to Portland and the whole world changes.” Avery shook her head.

  His sister’s comment hit Rory right between the eyes. Lizzie had changed his world.

  BEING PART OF A TRUE family dinner had been a new experience for Elizabeth, and she’d enjoyed herself. This was how family meals should be—warm, caring, joking with each other, but with love.

  She marveled at the differences in the McAlister siblings’ personalities. Rory was the serious one, the manager, the get-it-done guy. Griffin was his polar opposite—carefree, go with the flow, there’s plenty of time for work later. The youngest, and only girl, Avery appeared to be the nurturer of the group, and yet could hold her own with her big brothers, trading jibe for jibe.

  When she stood and began clearing away the dishes, Elizabeth grabbed her plate and Rory’s.

  “Put those down,” Nannette insisted. “Griffin and Avery are on dish duty. You and Rory head into the living room and talk things over for tomorrow.”

  After she thanked Nannette for the excellent meal, she and Rory left for the living room. His warm brown eyes gazed at her with concern. “Are you okay? You skipped lunch, but you hardly ate anything at dinner tonight.”

  “Everything tasted wonderful, but my stomach’s a little queasy.”

  “You need to take it easy, and get a good night’s sleep.” His thumb brushed her cheek. “You’ve got dark circles under your eyes.”

  Her stomach somersaulted. How did he so effortlessly get through her defenses when she least expected it? Desperately needing to get the situation back on a business level, she stepped away. “I need to see the barn before we start taping the commercial. It was locked when I checked earlier. Other than that, we’re ready to go for tomorrow.”

  “You up to it?”

  She nodded. Once on the front porch, she glanced skyward. Stars, too many to count, dusted the inky sky like diamonds poured out on black velvet. Rory’s cowboy boots rattled across the wood porch as he joined her. “The sky is so beautiful. I can’t remember the last time I noticed stars.”

  “That was one thing that was hard for me when I was in New York.” He stood close behind her. While he didn’t touch her, his presence enveloped her just the same. “It’s so bright and so loud at night. I missed the quiet and the stars.”

  She laughed. “When I was here before, I had trouble sleeping because it was too quiet. I guess it’s all about what you’re used to.”

  Gravel crunched under their feet as they headed from the house to the barn. Rory pulled open one of the large double doors, reached in and turned on the lights. The musty smell of hay tickled Elizabeth’s nose as she stepped inside. Thank goodness for Claritin.

  Stalls lined each side of the barn, with a wide hall running down the middle. Rory leaned against a wall, his thumbs hooked in his pockets. Casual confidence radiated from him. Sure, he had good looks, but his confidence skyrocketed his appeal. “What’s the plan for tomorrow?”

  Keep your mind on business.

  She needed to impress Devlin on the jeans campaign. Any problems or disappointments on his part put in jeopardy her agency getting him to renew his contract for his other business. She couldn’t afford emotions sidetracking her or clouding her professional judgment. Getting involved with Rory
was a train wreck waiting to happen, with her livelihood, not to mention her heart, as likely casualties. Though they could have a lot of fun before the crash.

  “You mean what do I have planned if Devlin hasn’t had more brainstorms since I talked to him last?”

  “You think he’ll change something at this stage?”

  “Without a second thought. The man’s a major pain in the ass. He’s even more stubborn than you are.”

  “The bastard. We ought to string him up.”

  Laughter bubbled out of her. How long had she kept a lock on her emotions? She’d shut down in so many ways, and she hadn’t realized that until Rory barreled into her life. How could she let him be a part of it when he’d ride out as fast as he’d come? She couldn’t afford to get attached, because righting her world once he left would then be that much harder. Childhood had taught her that painful truth. Now, eyes wide open, she’d been forced to acknowledge that lesson rather than brush it off.

  For years, every time her parents visited, she’d prayed they would stay. She’d pulled out her best manners, trying to show them she wouldn’t be any trouble. She’d hinted how amazing it would be for them to be a more conventional family. But they always left, leaving her devastated, lonely and wondering what she’d done wrong.

  “It’s good to hear you laugh. You should do that more often.” Rory pushed away from the wall and strode toward her, his gaze penetrating her defenses. Sparks of electricity raced through her. “You work too hard. You need to have some fun, learn to let go.”

  He kept advancing.

  “This is my job.” That was what they were talking about, wasn’t it? When he looked at her like she was the only woman in the world, her brain turned to mush. “I have to take it seriously. When I’m more established in my career, than I can worry about the rest of my life.”

  But did she risk putting her life on hold so long she’d wake up one day and realize she’d waited too long? Was that what she wanted for her life?

  Rory stopped in front of her, and for a moment looked as if he might touch her. “None of us knows how much time we have. We can’t afford to waste any of it.”

  “This campaign is crucial. I’ve got to anticipate Devlin having suggestions,” Elizabeth said, desperate to get the conversation on safer ground.

  When Rory stepped away, regret flashed in his eyes. “Let’s say he realizes the brilliance of your commercial concept and doesn’t change a thing. What’ll I be doing tomorrow?”

  “I know you and your mom say these aren’t working jeans, but I think showing you wearing them around the ranch is the best way to convince men that anybody would be comfortable in them.” Though she’d turned their conversation to a safer topic, Rory’s presence still overwhelmed Elizabeth. “I thought we’d film you riding around the ranch, taking care of your horse and tossing some hay bales around.”

  “Sounds easy enough.”

  “Where’s your horse?”

  Rory motioned for her to follow him. They stopped by a stall across the barn. A beautiful chocolate-colored horse trotted over and shoved its nose under Rory’s palm. He stroked the animal’s neck. Such beautiful hands and such a gentle touch. Elizabeth bet his hands could do magical things to a woman’s body. Her pulse quickened at the sensual images flooding her brain.

  Warning bells clanged in her head.

  “Don’t let Devlin intimidate you,” Rory advised. “If he says he’s changing something, don’t assume it’s a done deal. Tell him what you think about the idea.”

  “He doesn’t intimidate me. I give him my opinion. He doesn’t listen, and when I can’t change his mind, I defer to him because he’s the client.”

  “Looks to me like you roll over and play dead if he pushes you hard.”

  “He’s threatened to pull the rest of his business. The agency’s already had one round of layoffs recently. Losing Devlin’s business would mean more, with me heading the list because I’m in charge of his account.”

  Rory smiled. “That’s the no-nonsense management supervisor who puts me in my place. Be that person with Devlin. Assertive, but calm and factual. He’ll respect that.”

  “Is that how you see me?” Calm, assertive and factual. Ouch. Not exactly how a woman dreamed of having a sexy man describe her.

  Elizabeth held her breath, waiting for his answer, refusing to examine why she cared what Rory thought of her. She wanted him to see her as more than a driven career woman, but what did she want him to see?

  A woman he could fall hard for.

  Damn that nagging little voice. Especially when it hit the target dead center.

  “That’s what I see on the surface, the tough, no-nonsense businesswoman. Down deep, I suspect, there’s an incredibly sexy woman dying to let loose.”

  Sexy? The thought burst inside her like fireworks on the Fourth of July, all brilliant, hot and dangerous. Part of her longed to let go and feel something, connect with another human being. Her worst fear was that she’d turn around and become a bitter old lady living alone. Truly alone. No parents. No spouse. No children. Only some distant cousins she hadn’t seen or spoken to in years.

  “You think you could help that woman get out?” The words escaped before she could snatch them back. Then she realized she wouldn’t take them back even if she could.

  Rory’s callused hands framed her face. “Count on it.”

  She couldn’t think. Blood pounded in her ears as her heart beat at a frantic pace. He was all wrong for her; her head knew that. He wouldn’t score a two on her ideal-man checklist, and yet all she could think about was him kissing her. Now. She leaned into him and placed her hands on his cotton shirt. His heart hammered below her palms, matching the frenzied pace of hers.

  His lips covered hers, demanding and intoxicating. His hands moved to her hips.

  To hell with being responsible. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, until his erection was pressing against her stomach, sending her body into overdrive. His palm covered her breast, kneading and searching. A moan echoed through the barn.

  In the back of her mind she heard footsteps, a voice calling Rory’s name. But she didn’t care.

  The next thing she knew, Rory had pried her arms from around his neck and stepped away from her.

  Through a haze of frustrated sexual desire, she saw Avery approaching.

  “Hey, you two,” his sister said, a knowing grin on her face. “Mom has a couple of questions about tomorrow. She sent me to find you.”

  Elizabeth stared at Avery as the reality of how close she’d come to disaster sank in.

  She’d gone beyond breaking one of her cardinal rules—never mix business and pleasure—and had been about to shatter it.

  AROUND ONE IN THE MORNING, Elizabeth lay on the ceramic tile bathroom floor, wishing the earth would open up and swallow her. Her head throbbed. The world spun. Her stomach rolled. She hauled herself over the toilet seconds before what little dinner she’d eaten came up.

  “Oh, dear, looks like altitude sickness strikes again.”

  From her position clutching the porcelain god, she discovered Nannette standing beside her.

  Elizabeth closed her eyes. Add acute embarrassment to feeling like death warmed over. Now would be an even better time for the earth-swallowing-her-up thing. “I’m fine,” she croaked. “I’m sorry I bothered you.”

  “You didn’t wake me. I was up wandering the halls, and saw the light. I don’t sleep well lately.” Nannette reached over and flushed the toilet.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “No need to apologize. I had three babies within five years. For a while someone was always throwing up. It got so bad once that I didn’t feel like I was properly dressed if I wasn’t wearing baby barf.”

  “If I wasn’t half-dead, I’d smile.”

  “Now let’s see what I can do for you.” Nannette reached into the vanity and pulled out a washcloth. She held it under the faucet, wrung the cloth out, handed it to Elizabeth and then sco
oted out of the bathroom.

  Alone once more, Elizabeth felt her insides pitch. Not again! She fought to keep down what little remained in her stomach. Minutes later a hand started rubbing her back. Focusing on the gentle caress helped her relax. The nausea eased.

  A glass of water appeared before her face. Held by a tan, masculine hand. She recognized that hand. It belonged to the man who’d earlier said she was sexy. This scene would certainly change his mind.

  “Thank you,” she mumbled to Rory. To hell with her embarrassment. She was grateful for the comfort. She accepted the glass, sipped and rinsed out her mouth. Then she took a small drink. All the while his hand rested on her back, offering support and solace. Despite all their differences, all their squabbles, he’d given her more comfort than anyone had in years.

  “I’m sorry to be a burden.”

  “I’m glad you’re here instead of at a hotel. There’s nothing worse than being sick away from home, except being sick away from home alone. Here we can take care of you.”

  When was the last time someone had done that? Probably when her grandmother was alive. When she’d gotten the flu last year, Elizabeth had suffered through alone on ibuprofen and chicken soup delivered from the deli down the block.

  “What other symptoms do you have?” Concern rang in Rory’s voice. “Do we need to head to the emergency room?”

  “My head hurts.”

  “Let me see your fingernails.”

  Elizabeth raised her hand in his general direction. “Now’s a weird time to check my manicure.”

  He chuckled. “Good. Your mind’s clear enough for you to come up with a decent joke. I’m checking to see if your nails are blue, but they’re fine. Confusion and blue nails are two symptoms of severe altitude sickness. Is your breathing okay?”

  “It’s fine.”

  Rory open the medicine cabinet. Pills rattled in a bottle. A minute later two Advil appeared under her nose.

  “Take these. It’ll help with your headache.”

  Elizabeth washed the pills down with the water he’d given her earlier.