I am Not Your Melody: (steamy cowboy romance)

by Shoshanna Evers

  “I could tell,” Bill said with a laugh. “By the time you went to lay down, I couldn’t tell if you were going to kill me, kiss me again, or collapse.”

  “It’s like you read minds,” she said. “Those were all options on the table, definitely.”

  The fact that he’d said that though… that meant he could see that she’d been flirting with him shamelessly. That was horrible.

  Or was it? He was laughing about it now, after all.

  “When I’m super-tired, I may as well be super-drunk,” she said, shrugging. “I say silly things, so don’t think I meant anything by it.”

  Bill offered more sugar to Pirate to keep him following his lead. It was a simple task, to walk around, but the trust involved was staggering. How long had he been working with Pirate?

  “Don’t worry about me,” she offered. “I haven’t killed a single person yet, and I haven’t kissed a man since my husband ran off with his secretary.”

  “I’m honored to be your first, then,” he said.

  She flushed and covered her mouth with her hand. She hadn’t meant to bring up all that about her ex again, and yet the words had just escaped her as if of their own accord.

  “Forget I mentioned that,” she mumbled.

  It was embarrassing to talk about her former husband’s infidelity. It made her feel like maybe it was her fault. That if she’d been a better wife, he never would have strayed in the first place.

  “Don’t worry ‘bout it,” he said. “I know what it’s like to have a long dry spell.”

  Allie laughed nervously. If there were a convenient cave to hide in, she’d like to find it.

  Bill kept walking, slowly, the huge black horse like a chained giant behind him, able to break free of his bonds at any time, but choosing not to. Why? Just for a lump of sugar?

  “I told you yesterday that we couldn’t start over,” Bill said, not looking at her. He was focused on working with Pirate. “But you can forget I said that, too.”

  “Thank you,” Allie said. “That means a lot.”

  Bill glanced over at her and tipped his hat in acknowledgement.

  His black cowboy hat. The same hat that he’d left on her dresser top when he first showed her the room — the hat she’d fallen asleep staring at, thinking of him.

  Wait a minute…

  Allie took a deep breath. “You went into my room while I was sleeping.”

  Bill stopped, letting Pirate walk without him. While Pirate picked up the pace, getting some of his energy out, Bill walked over to the wooden fence.

  “I didn’t touch you,” he said, taking off his hat and wiping his brow.

  A lock of dark hair dropped into his gray eyes, and Allie had to fight the urge to smooth it away for him.

  “But you looked at me. For how long? Did you watch me sleep?”

  A muscle in Bill’s jaw flexed. “I went in, grabbed my hat, and left. I may have taken a peek at you, just to make sure you were still breathin’, that’s all.”

  “Why would you think I wouldn’t be breathing?”

  Bill shrugged. “Just a stupid habit from when I’d check on Melody, that’s all. I’d poke my head in to check on her. I did the same to you by accident.”

  “Okay,” Allie whispered. “I’m not mad. But…I’m not Melody.”

  Bill’s gaze faltered. “Hang on.”

  He jumped up onto and then over the fence, landing at her feet. Still looking at her, he pulled out his phone.

  “Zach, Pirate’s done for the morning.” Bill paused and held up his finger to Allie, as if to say “one sec.”

  Bill hung up and pocketed his cell. His long, muscular legs seemed to have grown right out of the earth, like he’d been working on that ranch for so long, he wouldn’t know what else to do if he tried.

  And yet now he was going to work side by side with her to get the bar open. Allie was the one with five years of experience both as a bartender and a manager. She should be the one in charge. But when he’d said they could start over, that probably didn’t mean forgetting her admit she had no clue how to renovate a building.

  It was Bill who knew how to build houses by hand, how to raise barns and construct chicken coops, and repair everything on his sprawling ranch. She needed him.

  They needed each other.

  “I wanted to go to the bar and get to work,” Allie said. “But I need access to the business checking account first.” She held her breath, hoping she wouldn’t have to pull out the big guns again (her wrath and the contract) to get him to hand her his check book.

  “Let’s go,” he said, “It’s in my office in the farmhouse. I can fill you up while we’re there, too.”

  “Fill me up…?” The naughtiest version of what that might mean flashed through her mind, and she laughed.

  “Your truck — I mean, car.” Bill shook his head, but she could tell he was holding back a smile too. “You’re a piece of work.”

  “I am,” she agreed.

  ***

  They swung by the bank on their way to the bar. The bank was unlike any she’d ever been to in Miami. In Miami, the lines were long, and the experience rushed, impersonal. Here in Bear Creek Saddle, the small credit union had no lines at all. There was only two people working there. Bill got Allie access to the checking account, and a debit card. Then, right in front of her, he transferred all of the money that was in the account (except for a small percentage) out into another account — one she didn’t have access to.

  “Hey,” Allie said. “What did you do that for?”

  “I’ve never given you money before. You’re still a stranger in that way. If you decide to fix being broke by running off with that card and emptying the bank account, at least now you’ll only take me for a little bit, instead of everything I have for this bar.”

  Allie felt like she probably should be angry about that, but it made so much good business sense that she had to just nod.

  “I won’t run off with the money,” she said. “But I can see why you would do that. Hopefully after a little while, you’ll trust me enough to know I’m not planning to rob you blind.”

  She winked at him and he actually winked back.

  Wow, that was incredibly sexy. He was really good at winking at her. In his emails, he’d never used emoticons. But as she would read what he had to say, she always mentally inserted them on his behalf. Smiley face. Winky face. Frowny face.

  It was so much better having the real thing right in front of her. Did he feel the same way?

  At the bar, Bill walked ahead of her and unlocked the door.

  “Close your eyes,” he said.

  “Oh no,” Allie said. “Let me guess. Someone stole all the copper plumbing.”

  Bill laughed. “Not quite.”

  He came around behind her, and placed his large hand over her eyes, effectively blindfolding her with his hands. “I got a surprise for ya.”

  Bill walked behind her with one hand over her eyes, and the side of his body pressed against hers, guiding her to walk straight. Inside the bar, the scent of the outside had been replaced by that of…paint.

  “It’s not finished,” he said, “but Zach an’ the guys helped me out while you slept.”

  He dropped his hand, and Allie blinked.

  “Wow,” she breathed.

  The bar had been cleaned! All of the bits of plaster, dirt, and cigarette butts from on the floor were gone. The graffiti (even the nice one about RIP Fred in HEAVEN!!!) was painted over with primer. The dust sheets had all been taken off, and the tabletops polished to their original luster. The holes in the wall (from what, who could guess) had been plastered over and smoothed. An old pool table, with its ripped green felt and battered legs and missing balls, was pushed to the side, ready to be refurbished and put back in business.

  This was incredible. It meant she didn’t have to waste time cleaning the bar before renovating it. She was ready to go.

  “I can’t believe you did this all while I slept,” she said.
“Thank you. So much.”

  Bill shrugged modestly. “Wasn’t just me. Zach, Eric, Jay, and Chris, they all helped. Zach Walker found he has another talent, polishin’ wood furniture. If he ever decides not to be a rancher, he’s got a job as a maid.” Bill laughed, and Allie joined him.

  “I’m going to have to bake everyone brownies as a thank you,” Allie murmured.

  Now that the place was clean, she could really see it better, and figure out how she was going to make this bar better than ever.

  Slowly, she took her time walking the space; her shoes touched every inch of the floorboards.

  This was really going to happen. Her dream come true. But they couldn’t afford to rest on their laurels just yet. There was still a lot of work to be done.

  “I want to put in a dance floor over there,” Allie said, pointing to an open space toward the back of the bar surrounded by tables. “And over here,” she pointed, “an elevated platform — a stage, really, but a small one — so that we can have live music.”

  On future Wednesday nights, she could also envision herself standing on that little stage, mike in hand, announcing Bingo numbers.

  “We don’t do that in this bar.” Bill frowned. “It ain’t a nightclub. We’re not Miami here.”

  “The very fact that you think some live music, a tiny dance floor, and Bingo will turn this bar into a Miami-style nightclub really speaks to how little you know about these things,” she said. “You may be in charge of how to physically make this happen in this renovation, but let’s use my experience working in bars, too.”

  “Bingo?” That was all Bill had to say to that.

  “Wednesday nights,” she confirmed. Maybe she’d forgotten to say that out loud before.

  Bill paced the floor where she wanted to put in a dance floor, something varnished just enough to make dancing more fun, without being too slippery. Maybe they could do line dancing on Friday nights!

  “I know this bar used to be the dark, quiet kind,” Allie said. “But in order for it to really be profitable, I want to make it the kind of bar that people drive to from other towns, because it’s so fun. There will be plenty of times during the afternoon, and things like that, where it’ll be quiet. We’ll have a big screen TV right there,” Allie pointed to a spot above the bar on the wall. “On Saturdays we can have the game on, and everyone can meet up with their friends and have a beer while they watch the game together. Make it a bigger TV than anyone has in their house!”

  Bill stopped pacing. “I like that idea,” he admitted. “But, I don’t like the idea of changing what Uncle Freddy had. It’s what people are expecting.” He paused. “That’s what I was expecting.”

  “I know this is not Miami,” Allie said.

  She walked across the room and took his hand in hers to get him to stop walking, pacing, and hear her.

  “We don’t want it to be Miami,” she assured him. His hand was so big compared to hers. She had to force herself not to look at their hands together. “We can have a bar that’s different than what your uncle had, and still have everyone be happy. We won’t have live music every night, that will be special for one night on the weekends.”

  “Guys don’t need that.”

  “I want this bar to be a place that women feel comfortable going to, as well,” she said. “If it’s just a good old boys club, where men go to get away from their wives, the women won’t come. But if the women come, it becomes a destination. It becomes a fun place. And more men will come to the bar.”

  Bill shook his head and crossed his arms, dropping his hand from hers. “I don’t like it.”

  He had been so smart and supportive in his emails with her before she actually showed up. Now that Allie was here, doing what she’d said she would, he was just getting in the way of her dream.

  “I’m going to break it down for you, Bill,” she said. “Your uncle’s bar was not making enough money for him to live on, without his army pension.”

  “So what?” he asked. “That doesn’t make the bar a bad place.”

  “Not at all,” Allie agreed. “But that’s only because the bar has so much potential, as long as we can get on the same page.”

  He leaned back against the mahogany bar-top and looked at her, as if to say “try me.”

  “You have income from Melody Ranch,” Allie said. “But I don’t. And since I’m getting half of the profits instead of all of them, if I keep the status quo we’ll never get this bar running. We have to get it running, Bill.”

  “You’re the only one ‘sides me who cares ‘bout the fate of this bar,” he said quietly. “It’s why I chose you.”

  “It’s always been my dream to have my own bar,” she admitted. “But a simple fact of life is that I’m going to need enough money to live on. History proves that the way this bar used to be does not bring in enough money to live on half of it — or even all of it. I know that’s hard to hear,” she said, trying to soften her tone. “Especially if you had wanted to bring the bar back exactly as it used to be.”

  She took both of Bill’s hands in hers. “Please,” she said, looking directly into his intense gray eyes. “Let me take charge of this. I know that I need you, because you’re the experienced one when it comes to renovations and building. I am not experienced with that. But I have a dream for this bar. I’ve been thinking about it for a long time. Please… help me make it a reality.”

  Bill was silent, but she could see the gears turning in his mind. She waited, not saying a word, for him to process everything she’d said. It would be a big change, she knew, but sometimes change was the best way to go — the only way to go.

  “Okay,” Bill said softly. “We can try it your way, an’ I’ll help you build what you need. But if it don’t work to bring in the money—”

  “Then we’ll reconvene to figure out a new plan,” she finished for him.

  Yay! She wrapped her arms around his neck in an exuberant hug. He held back for a moment, and then his arms were around her waist, returning the embrace with a strong squeeze.

  “It may take a little time,” Allie warned. “We’ll have to get the word out about all the new event things — Bingo on Wednesday nights, open discussion on the mic on Thursdays, live music and dancing on Friday nights, and dancing to the country radio hits on Saturday nights. That’s what I’m thinking.”

  She popped up and down on her toes with excitement. Her once-wary business partner was actually grinning at her.

  “Don’t forget the game on Saturdays afternoons,” Bill said.

  “Thank you, Bill,” she said. “Thank you for actually listening, instead of just laying down the law.”

  She stood on her tip toes and gave him the tiniest kiss, his sandpaper-scruff chafing her lips in an unexpectedly sexy way.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” Bill said, and touched the spot on his jaw where she’d kissed him. “It’s better than any email.”

  “We make a good team,” she said. “It’s going to be…amazing.”

  ***

  Bill could feel Allie’s excitements in the air. It was contagious; her energy enveloped him like an embrace. He grinned at her.

  “I suppose we could put signs up on the bulletin boards around town,” he suggested.

  “And take out an ad in the county newspaper!” Allie added.

  He hadn’t thought of that for some reason. “Good call. You’re smart.”

  She gave him a look, like she couldn’t tell if he was making fun of her or not.

  “I already knew that,” he added. “From your emails. But I like seein’ how your brain works in action.”

  Her blonde hair was still a bit disheveled from when he’d had his hand over her eyes. Carefully, he reached over and smoothed back an errant piece. Her hair smelled good, like some kind of flower, something he’d smelled before. Jasmine? Lavender?

  How strange that this woman he’d been exchanging emails with for three months now was here, in person. And he’d never known what she looked like
, never pictured her as this beautiful, smart woman all wrapped up in a tiny package.

  Allie smiled. “Thank you.”

  He couldn’t help but to watch her lips. The top one was a bit smaller than the bottom one. Every once in a while she’d pull out a lip balm and smear it on without a mirror. Cherry Chapstick. It made her lips look a bit pinker, a bit shinier — but still natural. What would that taste like?

  No. Kissing her was a bad idea. They had a business to run together. Getting all tangled up in a fling could ruin their working relationship permanently. And that was the only sort of relationship he could ever have…business.

  “You’re beautiful, too,” he told her, barely aware he was speaking out loud. “I don’t know how to act ‘round you.”

  A pretty blush colored Allie’s cheeks. “Same as before, I guess. Before we ever saw each other.”

  “But it ain’t the same,” he said, “bein’ with you here.”

  “I like when you’re nice to me.” She gave him a playful tap on the arm. “Sometimes it seems like you’re just being ornery to keep me at arm’s length.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “That’s clearly not workin’.”

  Don’t over-think it, man. just go for it.

  He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to him. Her body was putty in his arms, so accepting. She looked up at him as if she knew exactly what he was about to do.

  Bill went for it. He kissed her hard, needing to put every ounce of emotion he had into that kiss. It was a kiss that said You are beautiful, and it was a kiss that said I’m glad you’re my partner. It was a kiss that said I can’t do anything at this moment, other than kiss you.

  Her lips opened to receive him, his mouth, and Allie moaned. Their bodies pressed against each other, tightening with unfurling lust. The kiss deepened. She pulled his lower lip into her mouth and gently bit it.

  His body responded readily, and she was right up against him, so she knew it. Yet she wasn’t pulling away… They could hook up right that moment, right there on the floor of the bar, and fulfill every desire he’d had since he first threw her over his saddle. She was up for it, he knew by the way she tangled her small hands in his hair on the back of his head, pushing his hat forward until the rim touched her own hair, too.