Kissing the Cowboy

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Kissing the Cowboy Page 11

by Kennedy Fox


  “Congratulations,” she says, her eyes lighting up. The double doors slide open, and Harper excuses us before giving her a friendly wave goodbye.

  “And who was that?” I ask as we move farther away.

  “That’s Mrs. Lacinda Davenport. Her family runs the famous cowboy boot retailer Davenport Boots. They’re known for having the softest leather and sending soft peppermints with their orders. She also knows your grandmother, and I don’t want her to call Rose. She’d drive here in that Cadillac, and…”

  I kiss her knuckles, and she instantly stops talking, then laughs.

  “I was rambling, wasn’t I?”

  “It’s fine. Want some coffee?” I ask, noticing the mugs and variety of creamers.

  Harper turns her head and spots it too. “Oh my God, yes.”

  After we’ve drunk a cup, Harper checks the time on her phone. “I should probably get going.”

  “Let me walk you there,” I offer. She leads the way to the back entrance for the panelists. Before she goes through the double doors, I take a step forward and tip her chin upward, then press a soft kiss on her lips. Immediately, she sinks into me, and then she pulls away.

  There’s a questioning expression on her face. “What was that for?”

  “What were you thinking about before?”

  “A million different things.”

  I meet her eyes. “And what are you thinking about now?”

  “How you just kissed me when no one was around.”

  “Exactly,” I offer. “That was the point. A distraction to help you relax and not be so tense.”

  Harper swings her arm back and playfully slaps my chest. “Well, it worked. Now I’m obsessing over that instead.”

  I lean in and give her another kiss. “And that one’s for good luck.”

  Just at that moment, Shayla walks past us, and I swear I hear her huff.

  “Okay, I really gotta go. I’m super nervous,” Harper whispers.

  “Don’t be! Just imagine everyone out there is in their underwear,” I say with a wink.

  She scrunches her nose and shakes her head. “Probably a really bad idea.”

  We say our quick goodbyes before parting ways. I’m not sure who’s more stunned about my sudden burst of confidence, but I know how her body reacted when no one was around. That wasn’t for show.

  I make my way into the large conference room. After I grab a schedule and quickly look it over, I understand why Harper’s been so nervous. It’s packed with people eagerly waiting for the panel to start. I move to the front so I’ll be visible to Harper if her eyes wander over the crowd. A familiar face might help calm her.

  Soon the conference starts, and each person is introduced before walking on stage. I make sure to whistle loud and clap for Harper. A few heads turn, but I don’t care because my excitement comes from a genuine place.

  The six panelists sit behind the table and adjust their microphones. Mrs. Davenport is the announcer and gives a brief introduction, then the questions begin.

  “So Harper, first of all, congratulations on your engagement,” she says. Harper’s cheeks go bright red as the entire room bursts into applause. She waves everyone off, but I can tell it blindsided her. Shayla—who’s sitting a few seats away from her—tenses and acts annoyed about the attention Harper received.

  Mrs. Davenport continues. “You’ve quadrupled your sales in the last quarter and grown your social media to over a hundred thousand followers. It’s impressive for a small soap maker, considering the competition. Tell us a little bit about how you did that.”

  Shayla flips her hair, but Harper’s humble attitude and grin don’t fade.

  “It’s been an incredible year,” Harper agrees. “I’m so grateful for my customers since I personally design and create each product myself. I don’t have a team of workers to handle everything, and I take pride in that. Though I do manage to get a couple of friends to help me once in a while, it makes it more personal, in my opinion. I don’t want to be a money-hungry corporation where it’s only about the bottom dollar. I put my customer’s needs first.”

  A direct jab to Shayla, whose nostrils flare. It makes me smirk.

  Harper continues, “I make all of my marketing plans, social media content, and reply to all comments and messages myself. It keeps me extremely busy and sometimes overwhelmed, but I love having that one-on-one interaction with my customers. I think they really appreciate the extra time I put into personalizing their packaging too.”

  “That’s very inspirational.” Mrs. Davenport beams. “Since most small businesses only have a handful of workers and you’re here doing it yourself. What’s a piece of advice you can give to an aspiring business owner?”

  “The number one thing that I’d tell anyone is to be creative and don’t steal ideas from other businesses. You shine by being original and offering something unique—that not everyone else is doing. Another piece of advice is that when things get frustrating or competitive to keep going. There’ll be a learning curve, but the more you do something, the better you become.”

  “What an encouraging and motivating response from one of the most successful people in this room. You’re an amazing influence to all, Harper,” Mrs. Davenport says, then continues down the line. Harper’s eyes meet mine, and I give her a proud head nod. She knows she nailed it, and considering Shayla’s fuming, mission accomplished.

  Soon, it’s Shayla’s turn, and it’s obvious she doesn’t like the question.

  “It’s well-known that your business expanded rapidly and now has at least twenty employees taking care of your day-to-day tasks. What advice would you give to someone who’s ready to move to the next level?”

  A fake laugh escapes from Shayla’s lips. “I always knew I wanted to hire others to help me, especially when I grew so fast in such a short amount of time. At some point, you have to respect yourself enough to take a break, have a vacation every once in a while, and smell the roses. Too many small business owners take pride in working themselves to death. Hustle culture? Not for me.” Shayla glances over at Harper, who’s trying hard not to pay attention to her.

  “I realized when I was getting four hours of sleep and was constantly behind on shipping that I needed to hire someone. My customers were unhappy. It’s a shame others don’t take the initiative.”

  Harper keeps her perfect smile while she takes down a few notes.

  Mrs. Davenport continues asking questions, and after an hour of Q&A, the panel is over. The audience applauds the speakers, and the stage lights dim. Harper exits, and I make my way to her.

  When she sees me, her eyes are wide, but she’s beaming.

  “I did it!” she says.

  “Sure did.” I tilt her chin up to press a quick kiss to her lips. “I knew you’d do amazin’, but you seriously killed it.”

  “It really helped having you here,” she admits.

  “I think Shayla was about to burst a blood vessel,” I whisper, chuckling. I interlock her fingers with mine and bring her to the atrium area where people are waiting to chat with her.

  “Great responses,” a random woman says to Harper. “Out of everyone up there, you’re the person I relate to the most.”

  “Oh, thank you. I appreciate that. What’s your name?” Harper asks.

  “I’m Gale. I run a T-shirt business for busy moms.” She laughs. “It’s actually called Hot Mess Mom Tees.”

  “That’s adorable! I love that.” Harper says.

  A few more people come up to her, asking a few more questions and giving her their praises. I love seeing Harper in her element, and though some of them aren’t nearly as known as Harper, she treats them with the utmost respect. Even the ones who don’t deserve it. Harper lets out a sigh of relief when we’re finally alone again until Shayla sashays over with whom I assume is her fiancé.

  “Good job,” Shayla offers, but I can hear the sarcasm in her tone. She looks over me, but I’m not intimidated by her or anyone here. “You must be Harpe
r’s man.”

  “Ethan Bishop.” I offer my hand, but she doesn’t take it. I shrug and wrap my arm around Harper.

  “I’m Leonard,” her fiancé says and actually shakes my hand.

  “Nice to meet ya,” I tell him.

  “He goes by Leon,” Shayla corrects and flips her hair. I get the feeling she’s got an inferiority complex wrapped in jealousy. “So—“

  Before she can continue, a group of three young girls rush up to Harper. “We love you!”

  “Yes!” the redhead says. “I’m actually obsessed with your soaps.”

  “I got them all hooked on your products. I’m Stephanie.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, and thank you.” Harper blushes. “That makes me so happy to hear.”

  “We started a business because you inspired us so much. We make lotions!” It’s cute to see them so giddy to meet their hero.

  “We’ll see you at dinner, I guess,” Shayla interrupts, but when no one responds, she yanks Leonard away.

  “So is this your fiancé?” Stephanie asks.

  I smile proudly, tightening my grip around Harper. “That’s me.”

  As they continue chatting, I notice the distance between Shayla and Leonard. Even if I didn’t know anything about them, it’d be hard to tell they were an engaged couple.

  Mrs. Davenport finds Harper again just as the girls are leaving. “I hope you two will be at the dinner tonight.”

  I grin. “We wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  “Looking forward to it,” Harper adds.

  “Fantastic! Bruce Silvertown will be there. He wrote the New York Bestseller that’s helped millions of families grow their businesses. You’re gonna love his motivational presentation. It’s going to be very moving,” she tells us.

  Harper's eyes widen. “I didn’t realize Bruce Silvertown was the guest speaker. Wow.”

  I have no idea who this guy is, but if Harper is impressed, then hell, I am too.

  “Starts at six on the dot! Don’t be late,” she reminds us before walking away.

  Taking the opportunity, I pull Harper into a hug and squeeze her before placing another small kiss on her lips. A few more presentations are scheduled for today, so we return to the conference room and find our seats.

  I hold her hand and rub my thumb against the softness of hers. She leans into me, her warmth pressing into me, and I can’t deny how good it feels. And how much more I want of that.

  Too bad it’s all pretend.

  Or is it?

  Chapter Twelve

  HARPER

  Dinner starts in an hour, so Ethan and I go upstairs to change clothes.

  “How do you think the panel went?” I ask when we’re finally alone. “Truthfully.”

  “I told you, you killed it. I meant it. In fact, my favorite part is how you throat punched Shayla with your words. The whole bit about being original was a direct hit. When I saw her lookin’ like she was chewing rocks, I almost fist pumped the air.”

  “She deserves it. I’m just tired of her getting away with her shady practices and no one saying anything about it. It’s not hard to come up with original ideas if you love what you’re doing.”

  “You’re right. I think she took it personally, though.” Ethan’s phone rings, and he excuses himself to answer. He moves to the large windows that overlook the city and chats to Luke about the goats. I’m grateful Ethan took the weekend off to join me, but I’m sure he’s concerned with how things are going at the ranch. Taking time off and breaking away from our jobs is a rare occasion for us, so I’m trying to make the best of it. Though I feel the weight of all the things I have to do when I return.

  As he continues his conversation, it reminds me that I got a few texts from Hadleigh earlier. Considering she helped us prep for this weekend, I owe her details.

  Hadleigh: I’m dying to know what’s happening right now!

  Harper: The panel went great. Ethan has been a lifesaver. Shoulda seen Shayla’s face. It was worth all the nerves and preparation to watch her jaw drop.

  Hadleigh: Good. She deserves it.

  After I check the time, I go to the bathroom and change into the black dress I packed for tonight. I comb my fingers through my hair and pin it away from my face, then reapply some makeup. When I walk back into the main area, Ethan’s no longer on the phone. He turns, and his eyes light up when he sees me.

  “Damn.” He whistles. “That dress looks incredible on you.”

  Heat rushes through me at the way his eyes lower down my body. “Thanks. It’s one of my favorites.”

  “It’s becoming one of mine too. Should I change?” he asks, pressing a hand to his shirt.

  I shake my head. “I think you look fine. We should probably get going so we aren’t stuck sitting next to Shayla.”

  He chuckles, then we make our way to the restaurant a few blocks away from the hotel. This time, I grab Ethan’s hand. Grinning as if it’s no big deal, he fills me in on what’s going on at home.

  “Nothing monumental has happened, at least no goat escapees. I was concerned there’d be some sort of meltdown while I was away, but Luke and the twins seem to be handling everything okay. Told them I’d be back midday Monday.”

  “This weekend has flown by,” I admit, somewhat wishing it were longer because I never want to leave this bubble with Ethan.

  “It has,” Ethan agrees as soon as we enter the place. The lights are low, and there’s a warm glow from the overhead chandeliers. Didn’t expect this place to be so fancy, but I’m not complaining since I dressed up for it. Ethan tells the hostess we’re here for the TSBA reservation, and we’re led through the restaurant to a private room in the back. Though we’re fifteen minutes early, based on how many people are already here, I feel like we’re late.

  “There’s our two lovebirds.” Mrs. Davenport waves us over. She’s sipping a glass of white wine. A waiter stops by and asks what we’d like to drink.

  “Whiskey,” Ethan tells him.

  “Chardonnay for me, please,” I say.

  “Harper and Ethan, this is Bruce Silvertown.”

  Ethan gives him a firm handshake before Bruce takes mine. For a moment, I’m starstruck.

  “It’s so nice to meet you,” I greet.

  “Pleasure is all mine. I enjoyed your panel today. Brilliant,” Bruce says, and my cheeks flush.

  “Oh, we should probably take our seats.” Mrs. Davenport scrambles around, noticing the room filling up with more people.

  Once we sit, Ethan leans over and whispers in my ear, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that author was checking you out.”

  I snort and playfully smack his hand that’s on my thigh. “Stop it! He’s twice my age,” I whisper-hiss.

  “Thought you liked that? Johnny Depp?” He raises his brows, and I have to stop myself from bursting out laughing.

  When I pick up a menu, I notice two people take a seat opposite us. When I look up, I see Shayla. I offer a small grin, but she narrows her eyes with a scowl while her fiancé returns the gesture. At least he’s polite when she’s not walking all over him.

  Moments later, Patricia Lettington and her husband, Carl, sit next to Shayla and Leonard.

  “Harper, congratulations,” Patricia offers, glancing down at my gigantic engagement ring that sparkles even more under these lights.

  “Thank you so much,” I say, leaning into Ethan, who wraps his arm around me before placing a soft kiss on my lips. Electricity surges through me, and I nervously smile. “This is Ethan. He actually runs the goat farm where I purchase the milk for my products.”

  This piques Shayla’s interest. She arches a brow as she listens.

  “Really? Is that a lot of work?” Patricia genuinely asks.

  “Yes, ma’am, but I love it. Grew up on a ranch, so it honestly came naturally,” Ethan tells her.

  “That’s incredible. So, how long have you two been together?”

  We confidently answer her questions just as we rehear
sed.

  “Oh, we just got our engagement pictures back,” I add after telling her all the details of our relationship. Once I unlock my phone, I happily show them off. The annoyed look on Shayla’s face was worth the nerves that came the day of the shoot.

  The pictures turned out so good, and if Hadleigh ever wants to give up nursing, she might have a second profession in photography. I show everyone at our end of the table my favorite one with the sunset behind us, and I’m almost brought back to that moment where Ethan stole my breath away.

  “These are gorgeous.” She beams. “Your ring is stunning.” I hold out my hand, giving them all a good look at the diamond I’m gonna miss once it has to go back.

  “Any plans on starting a little family after the wedding?” Charlene asks, and I can tell Shayla feels like she’s got the upper hand. We all know her plans to get knocked up as soon as possible

  That nervous energy rolls through me and my cheeks heat. I slap on a confident smile and meet Ethan’s eyes before allowing my heart to speak.

  “We’re in no rush because we’re both growing our businesses, but I imagine having three or four kids. Eventually, I mean. Ethan’s family is huge, and I’m sure as soon as we say ‘I Do,’ everyone’s gonna be askin’.”

  “Three or four? ” Ethan playfully asks. “There’s no limit. I’d have a million babies with you.”

  A laugh escapes me just as Bruce speaks up. “I can really tell how much you two care about each other. The love you have shines through. Growing a business while also growing a family is more than doable, so don’t let that hold you back on getting started.”

  He stands up and makes his way down the table, chatting with each couple individually.

  “Don’t you think the responsible thing would be to get caught up with your orders before adding more to your plate?” Shayla asks, but the question even has Mrs. Davenport making faces.

  “None of that matters. I hope you get pregnant the night of our wedding,” Ethan says, capturing my lips with his. Pulling away, I meet his gaze and am so damn happy he’s here.

 

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