by Tori Kayson
She handed the lightweight shawl to him and he held his breath while he stretched it across her bare back. Warned his rebellious fingers not to glide across the smooth skin along her shoulders. Dared his hands not to slide down the crevice between the gown and her backside, or to imagine his palms covering those shapely mounds and pulling their bodies together.
He licked his lips. Tamped down the groan that threatened to erupt. Breathe, you big idiot. Show your son how to behave around a lady.
Her dark brows arched and she waited. Not helping him out one bit with that knowing smile.
“Be-you-tea-ful,” Cody supplied.
Hawk blinked. Forced a reboot to his brain. “You look amazing, sweetheart.” There, that was better.
Her smile grew wider as she stepped out on the porch. She tweaked Cody’s bow and pressed a hand on his shoulder. “Such handsome dates. So where are we going?”
“Hey, now. Didn’t I warn you that it was a surprise?” Hawk reminded her. “No prying classified info from the boy.”
Laughing, she held up both palms in surrender. “All right, all right.”
He leaned in close to her neck. Allowed himself one tiny lungful of her. Enough to carry him through the night. “You’ll know shortly.” He took her hand. “Ready?”
“Yes!”
He hoped she was that enthusiastic when he popped the big question later.
She tugged on his hand when they passed his truck and headed toward the barn. “Where—”
“Trust me.” He tightened his grip and kept walking.
Cody reached the barn door, twisted a grin over his shoulder, then disappeared inside, leaving the door open as planned.
Hawk could tell from the puzzled look on her face that she had no idea what they’d been up to all afternoon.
Music filtered outside. Along with laughter and excited chatter from the entire Kester clan who’d been closed inside for the last thirty minutes, helping him with the finishing touches.
When they reached the opening, her hand covered her mouth as her gaze scanned the whole width and depth of the barn. The family clustered on one end, big smiles on every face. White lights twinkled from the rafters. Long tables overflowed with smoked pork and ham, sweet potato casserole, a couple dozen other goodies, and a handful of pies. In the open space in the center of the barn, a hand crafted banner hung overhead.
Kester Ranch Prom.
She turned to look at him, surprise tilting her head, shock glazing her eyes. A happy shock? “What—”
“I wanted to make it up to you, sweetheart. To do it over, the right way.” He tugged her hand, propelling them into the barn, and opened his arms when a slow song started. He kissed the top of her head, her spicy fragrance subtle compared to the aroma of smoked pork and ham drifting through the big space. “But, this time, with a much different ending.”
****
Kierra nibbled on the edge of the cookie bar, a contented sigh puffing up her chest. What a wonderful date! She didn’t realize Hawk had it in him to pull off a surprise like this. Just another character trait to add to the constantly evolving list.
“You look like the boys vegging on the porch after a long day herding cattle.” Summer came up beside her, a camera looped around her neck. Her best friend’s gaze flipped between her and Maverick, coaching Logan and Cody how to rope Bucky, their wooden calf on the lawn in front of the barn. Every time the rope landed on Bucky, Maverick praised the kids. Her brother made a wonderful dad.
Just like Hawk.
“Should I be offended that you’re comparing me to my brother’s dogs?” Kierra teased.
Summer bumped her arm. “No, silly. I just meant that you look…happy. Deliriously happy.”
Kierra scanned the barn, found her handsome cowboy, arms crossed over that massive chest, in deep conversation with Fargo. When she’d wandered back to the dessert table for another cookie, they’d been discussing next week’s agenda.
Just then, Hawk glanced her way, caught her staring. He winked, excused himself and headed toward her, pure, unabashed love shining from his face.
The music stopped and a hush fell over the barn. Her family closed in on them as Hawk tugged her to the center of the giant space, dropped to one knee, and took hold of both her hands.
Her pulse stuttered, stopped. Restarted.
She stared at him. Gone was the teenager who’d stolen her heart all those years ago. Here was a wonderful man, an incredible daddy, the love of her entire life.
“Kierra Kester, I love you. I wake up in the morning loving you, wishing you were there beside me to start each day. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of you at least a hundred times.”
“I’ll attest to that,” Fargo’s deep voice interrupted, causing laughter to break out.
Hawk’s gray eyes twinkled with his smile. “I lay down on my bed at night and dream about the—”
“Hey, keep it G-rated. There are kids here,” Fargo warned, covering Shiloah’s ears.
Kierra glared at her brother. “Do you mind?”
Fargo grinned, unrepentant.
Hawk’s smile took in the whole crowd then landed on her. Without looking away, he tugged something from his pocket. “And dream about the day when your family might become our family. When you—”
“Yes!”
“Sweetheart, I haven’t asked yet,” he whispered.
“Better get a move on, Hawk. I can handcuff a criminal faster than—” Maverick grunted when Summer’s elbow made contact with his midsection.
“What made me think inviting everyone to our prom was a good idea?” Hawk huffed playfully.
“Get used to it, Son.” Her mother shook her head, her smile watery as she dabbed at her cheeks with a tissue. “Our family sticks together.”
This was getting out of control. Kierra tugged her cowboy up from his kneeling position. “Yes!”
Laughing, he circled her waist and leaned down, those silver specks dancing in his eyes, the hint of butterscotch tinging his breath. “Kierra Kester, will you marry me?”
“Yes!” She threw her arms around his neck and kissed the fine-looking cowboy, taking him by surprise. But that didn’t last long. He deepened the kiss, his palms warming the skin on her upper back.
She broke the kiss, pulled on his forearms. “Promise me a short engagement.”
“You won’t get any arguments from me, sweetheart. Ten years is long enough already.” He slid the diamond on her finger.
She gasped at the simple yet stunning ring. “Hawk! It’s perfect! Thank you.”
Her family broke loose and swarmed the couple, the females oohing and ahhing over the ring, the guys offering congratulations.
Hawk inherited a family, a real family, now. But she’d roped the daddy, the man of her dreams, and so much more. The heartthrob of her past. The handsome, stable cowboy of today. The man she longed to grow old with, to share all of her tomorrows.
Thanks so much for reading Roping the Daddy! If you enjoyed it, please take a minute or two to share your thoughts on Amazon or Goodreads (wherever you hang out online) and be sure to tell your friends about it. Many times that’s how other readers find books and discover new-to-them authors.
Each book in the Kester Ranch Cowboys series can be enjoyed as a stand-alone, but if you’re curious about Fargo and Darby’s story, settle back with this preview of…
Roping the Cowboy
1
Fargo Kester nudged the screen door open with an elbow and winced as the hinges squawked in protest, slicing through the early morning stillness.
The ranch’s herd dogs, a pair of Australian Koolies, muscled between him and the frame like two youngsters wrestling for the prized passenger seat.
“Slow down, boys.” He chuckled and shuffled outside to wait for them to do their business. If he didn’t, Hope and Charity would be barking furiously at the door, anxious to get to their food dishes before he even made it back to the kitchen. Juggling a giant mug of coffee, he draped h
is forearms along the rail and squinted against the bright morning sunlight.
The pair thundered down the porch steps, zigzagging across the yard until they finally marked the perfect spot in the parched grass.
Hay and freshly mown grass lingered in the slight Texas breeze that kissed his cheeks, a remnant of yesterday’s welcome rain shower. Today, not a single rain cloud marred the horizon, stretching as far as he could see.
Not good. If the clouds didn’t open up soon, the summer would be much like the one from five years ago where drought had claimed fifty or so of their cattle. A rancher couldn’t afford to lose one cow, let alone fifty.
And this time Dad wouldn’t be around to offer advice.
How will I ever manage this ranch without you, Dad? I miss you something fierce.
His gut tightened with the pang of loss still so raw and painful after three short months. Three short months, maybe, but each day had stretched out like an overextended rubber band, threatening to snap. He couldn’t ride the ranch without thinking of his dad just about every other second, missing the easy smile underneath the beaten, chewed up Stetson and that deep-throated chuckle at one of Uncle Chips’s jokes.
He could deal with the extra workload. But that looming balloon payment scared him, kept him awake at night. Six months. That’s all you got to make this work.
He pressed a finger and thumb against his eyebrows and massaged his temple, then scraped his palm across the heavy stubble covering his jaw. He huffed, irritated with this show of weakness.
This little pity party wouldn’t bring his dad back. Eventually, they would all move out from under this dark cloud of grief and find a new normal. Until then, he’d get by.
He took a noisy slurp of coffee. He could call Maverick and order him to get his sorry butt home. To be fair, Mav had offered, but the Deputy US Marshal star pinned to his chest kept him plenty busy. Besides, his brother’s heart wasn’t in ranching.
No, he would just have to gut it out. Because what was the alternative? Uprooting his entire family and disappointing his mother and sister, crushing their dreams? That was unconscionable, especially since Kierra had sunk her entire savings into this new venture at the ranch. However harebrained he considered her idea, he wouldn’t sabotage it.
Majesty’s soft whinny drew his gaze to the pasture. The horse’s tail swished back and forth. His head whipped up and down then voluminous brown eyes stared directly at him as if the creature was inviting him to come out and play.
“I wish, buddy.” Fargo smiled. What would it be like to live somewhere without this view? This is all he’d ever known. All he ever wanted to know.
He took another sip of the strong brew, the warmth sliding down his throat, the caffeine beginning to work its magic, a peace about the situation calming his weary spirit.
They’d make this events gig work. If only the guests would stick close to the big house and not invade his and Jayce’s private domain, he’d be hap—
“Yes, I’m here.” A voice, a bit muffled but definitely female and definitely not his sister’s, disturbed the peaceful morning aura.
Here?
Like right in front of his house here? Coffee practically snorted from his nose, and his head whipped toward the voice.
A woman carved a path in the stretch of grass along the pasture line with her pacing, a cell phone attached to her ear. One of Kierra’s new Kester Ranch for every special event ceramic mugs perched on a nearby fence post.
What? One of the ranch guests from the corporate retreat was already up and out so early? And…trespassing.
His jaw clamped and locked.
Obviously, some high level executive with a phone always glued to her ear who didn’t notice or care if she encroached on someone else’s property. Couldn’t she see the billboard-sized sign pointing the way to the big house? Her hip practically brushed it every time she switched directions.
He muted his scoff, not wanting to draw attention his way. In the month that Kierra had opened the ranch to guests, already he’d seen too many of this type. They couldn't even enjoy a cup of coffee on a beautiful spring morning without work interfering.
So much for the magical java!
The woman turned to pace in the other direction, but her head flicked toward Majesty and she hesitated for a second then switched course.
Don’t do it, lady! Don’t do it!
His fingers gripped the porch rail, splinters from the wood rail digging into his skin. His stance shifted to offensive mode, his brain kicking his legs into gear. His horse didn’t let just anybody—
One of her hands disappeared into a pocket and then her arm snaked out in slow motion to reveal an open palm.
Hair cascaded over her shoulders in luxurious waves, rich molasses highlights dancing with the sun’s rays. Words gurgled from her throat, soft and mellow, meant for his horse and maybe whoever was on the other end of the phone.
Heaven help him, her voice flowed over him, too. Clear and pristine as the creek at the edge of the property, expanding and filling all the cavities as water shimmered and rippled over sturdy rocks.
As if she was capable of filling all the hollow spaces in his heart.
He sucked in a breath, counting out the beats until surely he depleted his oxygen supply. Get a grip, Kester! Your horse is about to scare this woman into the next county and you’re—
The beast snorted and threw back his head then stomped at the ground with a hoof.
Here it comes! If he allowed Majesty to frighten her, he wouldn’t need to worry about anymore trespassers. But if his sister got wind of it, she’d shred him to pieces. Indecision held his boots hostage on the porch.
Majesty high-stepped closer to the fence, hoof twitching, teeth bared. And then…nibbled at the bribe she offered. Traitor!
The lady cradled the phone between a shoulder and an ear, and wound an arm around Majesty’s neck, even sliding up to scratch behind an ear.
The ornery beast hung his head, shuttering long lashes over contented eyes.
Well, if that didn’t beat—
He didn’t realize he snorted until her head snapped around. Her startled gaze landed on him, one arm still curled around the horse’s neck, the other steadying her phone.
Eyes, vibrant and even darker than the occasional espresso he craved, met his for an instant. Then she turned sideways and burrowed her face into Majesty’s neck, the collar of her ruffled blouse fluttering with the slight breeze, her full, pink lips still moving.
Strength and beauty exalted by the sun. Length and duty. Done. Fun. Run. Words jumbled through his brain like a giant puzzle, screaming for a notepad and pencil, so the poem could take shape on the page.
No!
The words skidded to a stop.
He tamped down the groan that threatened to emerge and rammed fingers through his hair, frustration tightening his chest. Man, he was an idiot. He didn’t have time for this, and more importantly than that, what was he doing gawking at the ranch guests? He couldn’t believe Kierra even allowed this group on the property considering Dad’s opinion of oil companies.
Maybe he’d just been so far removed from the dating game, that’s why attraction reared up and bucked him into tomorrow. But it wasn’t like he had the time or inclination for romance, not with a ranch to run and a son sneaking up on the teen years. And especially not since Jennie—
A feminine gurgle interrupted his tirade. Then, a muttered, “I’ll call you later.”
Fargo stole another glance at the woman.
The phone dangling from one hand, she sidestepped Hope and Charity, the fragile looking soles of her sandals practically bending in half as she strained to tiptoe, dancing between the dogs. Australian Koolies were naturally bred to herd, but they usually formed a wide circle around the cattle. They’d never attempted heading anyone to the house. His house.
Shoot the deuce! He surely didn’t want his dogs herding the ranch guests their way. They’d never have a moment’s peace.
Charity’s ear perked in his direction, but neither dog obeyed or showed any inclination to stop winding around the woman’s legs, forcing her in his direction.
“Crazy dogs,” he muttered, plunking his mug on the porch rail. Hot liquid splattered against his bare chest, but he barely noticed the sting as he took the steps two at a time.
A somewhat rusty sounding laugh jingled across the short space, the feminine sound coming from his yard strange, but not at all awkward. Then, peals of laughter when the woman closed her eyes and lifted her arms, spinning like she was rolling down a hill, blindly letting the dogs direct her course.
“Hope, Charity, come!” he repeated, in a firm no-nonsense voice, but it didn’t appear that the dogs or the female took notice. Maybe the woman’s name was Hope or Charity, and she was only following directions, but what was up with his dogs? They’d never acted this way before. At least, not off the range. With humans.
The lady kept spinning, her laughter growing in intensity and volume, her joy bubbling over, almost as if she’d finally let down her hair after years of wearing it up.
He could relate. Not to the woman or letting down his hair, but to the lack of laughter. The absence of joy in his heart. The constant ache of loneliness.
The dogs guided her closer, and she still hadn’t opened her eyes. Hadn’t she seen him? Or was she just so trusting of the canines—
Oomph! The soft, curvy female smacked into his bare chest. Suddenly, he felt very exposed. And…hungry.
Especially when her palms landed on his chest, her touch sending electrifying tingles to torment him. He sucked in a breath, but all he breathed in was her sweet fragrance, a heady combination of roses and mandarin, jasmine and springtime, resurrecting emotions long dead and buried deep, so deep he never expected they’d find their way to the surface. And it didn’t help matters when her head lifted, giving him a close-up of her eyes.
