Cowboy Charming

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Cowboy Charming Page 3

by Lacy Williams


  But all those dreams had died with Dad.

  This was Ethan's reality now. He needed to find a way to convince Robbie and Sam to straighten up for these last two years of school. To move on. Then, when they were both gone, he could start making plans for himself.

  #

  Trey's mysterious phone call had led to a mysterious errand, which left Mia and Apollo at loose ends.

  Today's crisp autumn weather was lovely, and she didn't mind taking the dog for a walk, though she was aware of the two royal security team members following not far behind. She was more aware of them than ever, after the limousine she'd been riding in had nearly been the victim of a bombing a few months ago in Glorvaird.

  Apollo had relaxed since his exam, since they'd left the veterinarian's office. Now he walked jauntily at her side.

  She'd turned off of quaint Main Street and onto a more residential road, and before she knew it, they'd stumbled upon the local high school.

  Curious, mostly because she'd never had any typical high school experiences, only tutors, she let herself and Apollo wander in that direction.

  She was rounding a lush, green exercise field of some sort when she caught sight of a familiar figure, standing alone at the fence.

  Ethan.

  Perhaps it was her day to run into the cowboy-farmer-jack-of-all-trades. He'd been professional and polite in the vet's office earlier. No sign of the blushing young man that had ducked his head shyly at the Triple H. She didn't know why, but she was surprised to have discovered that at one time he'd had bigger dreams.

  What had stopped him from chasing them?

  Now he appeared pensive. Maybe upset. What was he doing at the school anyway? He was too young to have high school-aged children.

  She should leave it alone. Leave him alone, but she found her feet carrying her in that direction anyway.

  She hadn't been paying attention to the activity on the field beyond the cowboy, but as she moved to join him, several young men wearing padding and helmets crashed into each other, tackling one another to the ground.

  She jumped, Apollo lunged, and she squeaked as she gripped his leash tighter. Ethan turned toward her.

  She didn't know what expression he wore, if he were surprised to see here, because she couldn't tear her eyes from the players who were... it looked like they were lining up to get ready to tackle each other again!

  The hand that wasn't holding Apollo's leash came up to cover her mouth.

  "I guess you've never seen American football before," Ethan said dryly, finally pulling her gaze to him.

  He'd lost the pensive look he'd worn before he'd known she was there, but instead of smiling, he wore a slightly-guarded look. Or maybe haunted.

  Whatever it was, it bothered her.

  She didn't know him from Adam, but from that first day, there'd been something that drew her to him. And while she knew she couldn't make everyone happy, she could usually draw a smile from most people.

  "This would be my first taste of American football," she agreed, stepping slightly closer.

  Ethan bent to greet Apollo, and the dog gave him a happy smile and a wag of his tail, not holding against Ethan what had happened in the vet's office earlier.

  "They're practicing...?" she guessed of the football players.

  "Yeah." He scratched Apollo's ears and straightened to his full height, his Stetson throwing shadows across his face. "Not as much now that season is here, but twice a day in the early fall."

  Something in his expression... a wistfulness as he watched the players, prompted her to ask, "Did you play?"

  Now a shadow passed behind his eyes. "No."

  He didn't offer more of an explanation, but somehow she knew there was something he wasn't saying.

  He nodded to the field. "My stepbrothers are out there. Robbie and Sam."

  She looked but couldn't differentiate one boy from another with their identical, unnumbered training jerseys and helmets.

  "So they just...keep crashing into each other?" she asked.

  She wasn't looking directly at him but had enough of a view of his face to see the side of his mouth quirk up. "No. In a real game, the goal is to get the ball into the other team's end zone. That's the other end of the field. It's how you score points."

  "And the other team wants to stop you?" she asked. "Thus, the...crashing?"

  "Tackling. Yeah, you've got it." He had a nice smile, when he'd relaxed enough to show it. "Football is pretty intense around here. The whole town gets into it. You should take in a game while you're in town."

  "Oh, that'd be fun! When?"

  She watched in fascination as his face filled with color in a wave from his chin to the place where his forehead disappeared into his hat. He coughed a little into his fist.

  "Erm, there's a game on Friday night." His voice sounded a little as if he'd swallowed a frog.

  "Lovely! You could pick me up. What time should I be ready?"

  His face had gone an even deeper shade of red, and she wondered if he'd spend the whole of Friday night looking as if he'd choked something down the wrong pipe.

  "Six, I guess."

  One of her security team cleared his throat, and she looked behind to see him jerking his chin, like they needed to be going. She sighed and turned back to the cowboy. "Here, let me borrow your phone."

  He looked flummoxed, and she couldn't help the smile that pulled at her lips. "I'll input my number, in case you need to reach me."

  He dug in his front pocket and came up with an older model flip-phone. She schooled her reaction, because she hadn't seen one in years. Tilted her head. "You know what, why don't you add your number to mine?"

  She drew her metallic, thin smart phone, from her pocket, and with a few flicks of her fingers, pulled up her contacts list.

  He fumbled it when she handed him the phone. "Sorry," he muttered.

  She couldn't help noticing his calloused hands as he input the digits and wondered what it would feel like to have one of them holding hers. Of all the men she'd dated—royals and businessmen and the one soccer player—none of them had been anything like Ethan.

  Maybe that was why she was so drawn to him.

  She pondered it as she took her phone back, said a quick goodbye, and turned her steps back toward the street where Trey had parked the Triple H's farm truck. She couldn't help looking over her shoulder as she walked away.

  Ethan had returned to leaning on the fence, his posture once again slightly withdrawn.

  She had to remember her promise. No matter how much she was attracted to the shy cowboy, she wasn't kissing anyone. Not until she met the one.

  But that didn't mean she couldn't enjoy the company of one handsome cowboy.

  Chapter Three

  Ethan wasn't sure exactly how this had happened as he turned his truck down the Triple H's drive just after six on Friday night.

  Somehow, he'd been wrangled into a date with Princess Mia.

  Him.

  On a date.

  With a princess.

  He'd cleaned out most of the junk that regularly accumulated in his truck, but he'd hoped to have time to run it through the car wash and vacuum it. Unfortunately, an issue with one of the milking machines had delayed him by an hour this afternoon, and he'd barely gotten a shower.

  So he'd stuck one of those air fresheners on the heating vent and hoped for the best.

  There wasn't any use in pretending to be something he wasn't. His truck was fifteen years old, the same one that Dad had bought for the dairy before he'd passed.

  If she hadn't already figured out that Ethan wasn't made of money, she would soon.

  Surprisingly, they'd texted a couple of times since Wednesday. The first time her name had popped up his phone's screen, he'd stared for a good minute before he'd decided to answer.

  Mia: what does one wear to a high school football game?

  He was twenty-six and had never dated before. No one that he'd been interested in had been interested in
him, for obvious reasons.

  He'd fumbled his way through a response.

  Ethan: jeans.

  Mia: I won't be out of place without a team sweatshirt or something?

  Ethan: No.

  The next day, she'd texted him mid-morning, but when he'd expected another query about the football game, instead she'd asked whether he could teach her to ride a horse. When he'd agreed, she'd sent:

  Mia: Good, then we need to schedule date #2.

  He'd stared at that one for even longer than her first, unexpected message. Date #2? That meant she thought of the football game as Date #1, didn't it?

  No idea what to do with that.

  So here he was, a moron who didn't know quite what to expect going on a date with someone so out of his stratosphere. Out of his galaxy, even.

  One at a time, he rubbed his sweaty hands on his jeans.

  He pulled into the Triple H drive, as always, unable to keep from enjoying the rolling pastures as the old truck slowly rolled toward the house. Being here always reminded him of what he'd lost with Dad's passing. Land. Home. Security.

  When he reached the ranch house, two guys in dark suits and even darker glasses strode off the porch. They met him as he got out of the truck. While he hadn't known Mia was a princess that very first day, he'd certainly gotten a crash course. This must be her security team.

  "You got anything on you? Weapons, drugs?" One of the guys asked the questions as the other one cranked open the truck door and leaned inside. Without permission.

  "No," Ethan said.

  Apparently they weren't taking his word for it. The guy forcibly turned Ethan around and started patting him down. Ethan wore a long-sleeved T-shirt beneath his corduroy jacket and jeans. There wasn't any place to hide anything interesting, and the security guy was done in moments.

  It didn't stop Ethan from being embarrassed as the goon backed off, leaving Ethan to turn and face the house.

  "Gideon!" He thought that was Mia's voice calling out from inside, though it might've been her sister.

  What had he gotten himself into? He left the security guys to search his truck and headed for the house. When he hit the porch steps, he could see inside the half-open front door. Mia had her hands on her hips and was staring down the rancher, though she was a head shorter. "You promised your goons wouldn't harass Ethan."

  That she'd used the same word to describe them as Ethan had cheered him.

  "Just because we're in Texas, and just because Ethan's done some jobs for me, doesn't mean I can forgo basic safety precautions. There's still a real threat against the Glorvaird crown and I have to—"

  "Is there really?" she demanded, and he had to admire the fire blazing from her eyes. He was a little glad it wasn't directed at him. "Because nothing has happened in months."

  "That doesn't mean that nothing will happen," Gideon returned.

  She hesitated, her shoulders heaving with breath as if she'd been about to blast him again.

  "Um, knock knock?" Ethan said through the open door.

  Mia turned to him immediately, her blonde hair billowing in a curtain behind her. He got a look at the slim black pants and that rhinestone-encrusted jean jacket she'd worn the day they'd met. She looked relieved to have an out from the conversation with her soon-to-be brother-in-law.

  She motioned him in, and he stepped over the threshold.

  "I'm really sorry," she said quietly, looking up into his eyes with a sincerity that couldn't be faked.

  He got tongue-tied in the face of her beauty and had to settle for a shrug. "It's okay," he finally managed.

  She looked over his shoulder, frowning, and he followed her gaze to see the security guys sweeping beneath his truck with a mirror on a stick. Were they seriously looking for a bomb or something?

  He shook his head slightly. "They won't find anything."

  "Good." Gideon moved forward and clapped Ethan on the shoulder. "What time you do expect to have her back?"

  "All right, Dad," Mia said with an exaggerated elbow to Gideon's gut, edging him back and out of the conversation. "I'm not a teenager, and I'll be back when I feel like it."

  Gideon frowned, but Mia didn't wait for him to say anything else. She slipped her hand into Ethan's and tugged him toward the door.

  The shock of having her soft, slender fingers wrapped in his rendered him speechless.

  "I'm really sorry," she said again. "Alessandra says Gideon's been overreacting ever since someone targeted her... She nearly died."

  She had?

  When they reached his truck, the two security guys moved off. Instead of going around to the passenger side, like he expected, she yanked open the driver's side door and climbed inside, sliding across the bench seat.

  He followed her in.

  She took a breath, looking out the window. "There was also a bomb, back in Glorvaird. I was in a limo, and the bomb exploded pretty close to where we were driving past. Shattered my window."

  She glanced back at him, tried for a smile, but he saw the shadows in her eyes. "Things have been quiet ever since."

  "That must've been scary," he said slowly. "I guess I can understand why Gideon's so protective."

  Her smile turned a little wry. "Good. Because we'll have an escort."

  He cranked the engine and then followed her gaze to the black sedan that was edging out from beside the ranch house. So her security would come with them.

  How frightening must it have been to live through that? He could deal with the security if it kept Mia safe.

  She seemed to breathe easier as they turned out of the ranch drive and onto the two-lane highway that would take them back to town.

  He hid a wince as she looked around the interior of his truck. She didn't wrinkle her nose or make any outward sign that riding in the older vehicle bothered her, but he figured she was good at hiding her emotions.

  Once again, he reminded himself there wasn't any use in pretending to be something he wasn't.

  But it didn't stop him from wishing, just a little, that he could've been someone different. Someone who deserved to be on a date with a princess.

  #

  Mia walked next to Ethan, trying not to feel out of place. Trying not to be conspicuous with the two hulking bodyguards following a pace behind them. She hadn't realized her designer jeans and jacket would be so out of place. Everyone else wore what looked like faded work jeans and sweatshirts, though Ethan had texted her that a team sweatshirt wasn't necessary.

  She'd meant to talk to Gideon and Alessandra about the level of security. Most days she vacillated between feeling the goon guards were overkill and feeling edgy, like someone could be watching her. But she certainly hadn't meant to lose her temper in front of Ethan.

  Something was going on with Gideon and Alessandra. She didn't know what, whether it was something in their relationship or something else, but there had been more than one time that they'd broken off their conversation when she'd entered the room.

  She hated feeling like they were keeping secrets from her. But maybe she was being overly sensitive. Maybe it wasn't about her at all.

  The crowd entering the outdoor football stadium was a mix of families with moms and dads with kids and teenagers in pairs and threesomes. It was noisy and chaotic, and she loved the energy.

  It was also completely different from the last date she'd been on. She and Richard had been at a quiet, private table in an expensive restaurant back home. And look how that had turned out.

  She slipped her hand into Ethan's for the second time, partly to keep from getting separated from him in the crowd, but partly to see the slow blush that climbed into his cheeks. He carried a folded fleece blanket in his other arm.

  He paid the admission charge, and they continued, swept along with the crowd toward a set of metal bleachers. Her detail followed right behind.

  Several people greeted Ethan, one the veterinarian Mia recognized, who was walking beside a teenage girl. Mia noticed the woman's eyebrows go up toward
her hairline.

  They found a space on the bleachers, and Goon One and Goon Two settled in two rows behind them. She looked around eagerly, taking in the players on the field—lots of them— the bright lights, and the crowd.

  "You'll have to explain what's going on to me," she said. "I don't know the rules."

  They let go of each other's hands to get settled, and he stuck the blanket between his feet.

  "Right now they're just warming up."

  Her eyes caught on the cheerleading squad, already pumping up the crowd from below. Several rows of bleachers near the front were filled with uniformed band members, each holding different instruments.

  "This is so fun. Thank you for bringing me."

  He looked at her askance. "You're serious?"

  "Why wouldn't I be?"

  He rubbed both hands over his thighs. "This is a high school football game," he said as if she'd somehow missed that fact. "You probably attend events like Wimbledon and the Olympics and—"

  "Water polo?" She leaned one elbow on her knee and rested her cheek on her fist. She raised her brows at him. "So I can't be interested in a high school sport?"

  He had the good grace to look embarrassed. But then seemed to recover. "What was your last date?"

  She wrinkled her nose. "It was a dinner date. And it wasn't a particularly good one."

  He didn't ask for more details.

  So she went back to the original topic. "Or maybe you think I was looking for any reason to get out from under my sister and Gideon's noses for a few hours?"

  He slanted a glance at her, his mouth tight, though not quite a frown. "Were you?"

  "Only a little." She nudged his boot with the toe of her shoe. "Is it really so farfetched that I might want to spend time with you?"

  He murmured something under his breath and rubbed the back of his neck, expression chagrined.

  "What?" she pressed.

  He shook his head.

  "What was your last date?"

  "I haven't dated much. At all." That color was rising in his face again, and she tried not to let it distract her.

  "Which is it?" she asked. "Much? Or at all?"

  He kept his gaze on the field. A whistle blew, and he let out a small exhale. "That's the referee's whistle. They're starting."

 

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