All-American Cowboy

by Dylann Crush

  Before she had a chance to find out, someone knocked at the front door. “Charlie? Everything okay?” a worried voice called.

  “Oh my God, it’s Cash. Get your clothes on. He can’t find you here like that.”

  Beck scrambled into the family room and scooped his underwear off the floor. “Where are my shorts? I can’t find my shorts.”

  “Hold on a second,” Charlie yelled from the kitchen.

  The front door opened. Charlie yanked her hand from under the cold stream of water and dove behind the counter.

  “What the hell’s going on in here?” Cash’s voice carried over the buzz of the smoke alarm.

  A chair scraped across the floor. The buzzing stopped. Thank God. She let out the breath she’d been holding and peeked around the corner of the cabinet. Beck and Cash stood on opposite sides of the living room like an old-fashioned standoff. Beck had thrown his boxer briefs on backward. If she hadn’t been so terrified, she would have giggled at the sight of him standing there, one hand on his hip, the other trying to adjust the saggy front of his backward briefs.

  “Where’s my sister?” Cash swiveled his head around, probably noticing her discarded clothes on the back of the couch and the floor. She cringed at the sight of her Victoria’s Secret low-rise cotton briefs draped over the lamp on the end table.

  To Beck’s credit, he rocked back on his heels like he was trying to make himself appear even taller. “She’s, uh, taking care of something.” His gaze shot to the kitchen and found her hiding spot.

  Crap. Cash wouldn’t let it go. He’d be all over her like flies on shit in about ten seconds. That left her with one choice. She reached for the linen drawer.

  * * *

  What in the world did she have on? Beck sized up Cash, trying to determine how to best defuse the situation when Charlie stepped out of the kitchen with a star-spangled tablecloth clutched around her slender frame, a bag of frozen peas in her hand. Her knees sported matching raw spots from rug burn, and two stars on the tablecloth lined up perfectly on top of her breasts.

  “It’s not what you think.” She directed the words to her brother.

  “Oh no?” Cash cocked his head. “Looks like exactly what I think. Unless you want to try to convince me your boyfriend always wears his underwear ass-backward and you like to hang out naked in Nana’s handmade cross-stitched tablecloth while you pass the time?”

  “What are you doing here anyway?” she asked. Beck liked the way she went on the offense, not seeming to care about her unusual patriotic display.

  “I was at the house to pick up Kenzie. Dad saw the notification your smoke alarm was going off and asked me to come check it out. Things must have been pretty darn hot between the two of you to start a fire.” He cracked a grin, a nice break from his usually somber expression.

  “I knew there’d be drawbacks to having everything wired to the big house.”

  “It’s smart, Char. Say your place catches fire sometime while you’re”—he cast a glance at Beck—“out entertaining visiting royalty or something.”

  She snorted. “Visiting royalty? Come on, even you can do better than that.”

  “I can, and I will. Right after you go get some clothes on. You tryin’ to scar me for life or something? As it is, I won’t be able to unsee this.” He waved his arms around, gesturing between Beck’s shirtless chest and Charlie’s all-American attire.

  She stomped across the living room, grabbing her clothes along the way, then slammed the bedroom door behind her.

  Beck and Cash didn’t move, just stood in the awkward silence for a few beats. Then they both spoke at the same time.

  “I’m—” Beck started.

  “Hey, I—”

  “Go ahead.” Beck dipped his head toward Cash, signaling he should go first. What would Charlie’s older brother think? If he even had an opinion.

  Who was he kidding? One thing he’d learned about the folks in Holiday: everyone had an opinion about everything. And so far none of them had been shy about sharing it.

  Cash cleared his throat and spoke low, so low that Beck had to lean toward him to make out his words. “You hurt her, and I’ll have your balls for breakfast.”

  Beck gulped. He’d been threatened before, both physically and verbally. Sometimes he’d even deserved it. But not once had he felt the threat so intimately. Cash meant every word.

  “Jesus.” He shifted his weight to his other foot. “I don’t think that will be necessary. We’re all adults here.”

  Cash tucked his thumbs into his belt loops, leveling Beck with a smoldering gaze. “She’s been hurt. Bad. And I don’t want to have to pick up the pieces when you breeze on outta here in a couple months.”

  “I don’t have any intention of hurting her.” Beck put his hands out, palms facing Cash in a gesture of reassurance. The man carried a gun. He had no desire to piss him off.

  “Well, good. That’ll make Mom and Dad and the rest of the family real happy. We’ll be expecting an announcement of the engagement real soon. Think a fall wedding will fit into your schedule?”

  Before he had a chance to respond, Charlie burst back into the room, fully clothed and fully pissed, still clutching the bag of peas in her burned hand.

  “Happy now?” She pointed toward the front door. “As you can see, the place isn’t burning down. We had a little oversight in the kitchen. You can tell Dad everything’s fine.”

  Cash raised an eyebrow, giving him that brooding, distant cowboy look that Beck had seen in Ralph Lauren ads. “Yeah, what exactly do you want me to tell Dad, kiddo?”

  Her skin pinkened from the scoop neck of her shirt to the roots of her hair. “Cash Warren Walker, you are impossible. You tell him I was smoking out a gopher hole. That a snake crawled into my oven again and burned up when I turned it on to preheat. That I was messing around with the solder gun.”

  “Or I could tell him how I found you and the Holiday kid naked, rolling around on the floor of your living room while you burned one of his best rib eyes. That would get his heart thumping.”

  “Don’t you dare. Now get on outta here.” She moved behind her brother and pushed with one hand. A full head taller than her and twice as broad, he held his ground.

  “I was just leaving.” He tipped his hat toward Beck, mouthing the word balls before moving toward the door.

  Beck shook his head. “Always good to see you, Cash.”

  Charlie finally got him to the front door, and Beck caught the affectionate hug that passed between them. Then Cash wrapped his arm around her neck, trapping her head under his armpit and rubbed his knuckles over her hair. “Noogie!”

  She managed to escape by knocking him in the back of his knee. Cash gave her a half hug before she pushed him out the door, then slammed it behind him. Her free hand went to her hair, trying to smooth down the mess Cash had made. Beck wasn’t sure whether to offer some comfort or pretend like nothing had happened.

  “See what you’re missing by not having any siblings?” She padded into the kitchen, and he followed. “I’m sorry for the intrusion. Dad has everyone’s place wired to a central switchboard in the big house.”

  “That sounds…convenient?”

  She tossed the peas back in the freezer, then stuck her head into the refrigerator and rummaged around. “Sure, if you need someone checking up on you all the time. Which I don’t.”

  No, she didn’t. But it seemed like her brother had different ideas. He couldn’t be serious about expecting a proposal and a wedding. Some things in Holiday appeared to be outdated, but surely social norms and dating expectations weren’t the same as fifty years ago. “Look, Charlie—”

  Handing him a carton of eggs and a block of cheese, she withdrew from the fridge. “Steak’s ruined. Looks like an omelet?”

  “An omelet would be great. Can we talk about this?”

  “Ab
out what? My annoying brother?” She pulled a grater out of the drawer. “Why don’t you get your pants on and see if you can shred some cheddar?”

  He went back into the other room, found his shorts under the couch, and tugged them on. “Cash isn’t serious about a wedding, is he?”

  “Well, of course.” She cracked an egg against a bowl, then reached for another. “It’s another Holiday tradition.” Her face gave nothing away. She had to be joking.

  “Really?”

  “Sure. Just wait for the honeymoon. The whole family rents a giant RV. We even bring Baby Back along. Hike through the canyons out at Big Bend Park. Fry up a rattler or two.” She winked. Thank God.

  “All right. Now I know you’re pulling my leg.”

  “And I promise I’ll pull on a hell of a lot more after dinner if you get over here and grate that cheese.”

  He stepped to the counter, his heart not quite as tight as it had been a couple of minutes before. “So what are we doing here?”

  She picked up the cheese and rubbed it along the grater. “See here, this kitchen gadget gives you nice, even shredded cheese when you rub this big chunk of cheddar along it.”

  He covered her hand with his. “That’s not what I meant. Us. What are we doing here?”

  The hint of humor left her eyes. “I don’t know. This is new for me. Maybe we just take it one day at a time.”

  His lungs slowly released the breath he’d been holding. “And when I leave at the end of the summer?”

  She set the cheese and grater on the counter and turned to face him. “That’s a long ways away.”

  He gathered her into his arms, and she leaned against him. He’d come to Texas to find out about his family, not start a fling. Could Charlie even do casual? Could he? He had his doubts, but September was a long time away. And he’d have a hell of a lot more fun if he had someone to spend those sweltering summer nights with. “You’re right. One day at a time sounds good.”

  She reached up and kissed him, making him want to forego cheese omelets and get started on the one day at a time right away.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Charlie studied the foamy brew in the mason jar mug in front of her. “And it was like this when you got here this morning?”

  Shep nodded. “Yep. Dwight was the first to notice. Said his Lone Star was skunked or something. Look at the head on that pour. And it looks more like an unfiltered wheat.”

  She held the mug to her nose and inhaled. Definitely not Lone Star. Either they’d got a bad keg, or someone was playing a joke on them. As she considered which was the more likely option, Beck strolled in.

  “Hey, you like the new brew?” He nodded toward the mug in her hand.

  She set it on the bar, not hard enough to break but hard enough to splash some up and over the edge of the mug.

  His lips corkscrewed into a frown. “Not a fan, huh?”

  “What did you do?” She rounded the bar, hands on her hips.

  “I heard you say something a while back about trying a new seasonal brew, so I talked to the rep and asked for some recommendations. This one’s an unfiltered wheat with a hint of lemon. Perfect for an afternoon out at the lake or a picnic at the park. Crisp and refreshing on a hot summer day. And we’ve got plenty of those around here.” He nodded, smug, satisfied, and oh so proud of himself.

  “And where’s your seasonal beer made? Austin? Waco? Amarillo?”

  “Brooklyn. I thought I’d bring a little bit of New York to Texas.”

  “Brooklyn?”

  “Just try it.”

  “Fine.” She nodded toward Shep, who filled a clean mug with a couple of inches of foamy brew and set it in front of her. Taking a sip, she let the liquid roll over her tongue before she forced it down.

  “Well?” Beck asked.

  “It’s awful. Shep, can I get a water? Quick?” She guzzled half the glass of water he filled. “You try it.”

  Beck sniffed the beer left in her mug, then downed a mouthful. “No, this isn’t what it’s supposed to taste like. They sent me the wrong stuff.” He reached for her water.

  She pressed a palm against the front of his tacky button-down. He’d gone all in with embracing the local culture, and today’s shirt practically blinded her with the mishmash of pink, purple, lime green, and yellow paisley. Looked like a unicorn had pooped a rainbow all over his shirt and then danced in it. “You replaced our Lone Star—the official unofficial beer of Texas—with some skunked beer someone thought up in Brooklyn?”

  “Hey, it came highly recommended. Besides, alcohol content is thirty-percent higher. Customers ought to be happy about that.”

  She let go of his shirt and shook her head. “That might pacify them a bit if it were drinkable. Shep, get the rep on the phone. He’s got to come fix this.”

  “Sure thing, Charlie.”

  She leaned toward Beck. “Can I talk to you in private?” She didn’t want to hash things out with an audience. It was bad enough people had been whispering about them behind their backs. Dixie even mentioned she’d heard someone taking bets on whether they’d “sealed the deal” already.

  “What did I do?” Beck followed her to the office.

  She waited for him to come in behind her, then closed the door. “You cannot, under any circumstances, open the Rose tonight without Lone Star on tap.”

  “It’s just a beer.”

  “It’s not just a beer. It’s a way of life, it’s a…” She struggled for the right word that would illustrate the severity of the moment.

  “Tradition,” he muttered.

  “Yes. It’s a tradition.” She wrapped her arms around his, sliding her hands down his forearms until she held both of his hands in hers.

  “Don’t y’all ever buck tradition around here?”

  Her jaw dropped.

  “What? Is it so crazy to think they might appreciate a change once in a while?”

  Charlie poked him in the chest. “You said ‘y’all.’”

  He scoffed. “Did not.”

  “You sure did. I’ll make a cowboy out of you yet.”

  He pulled her close, nestling her into his chest. “I promise that beer is good. Real good. Something must have happened to it in shipping.”

  “Mm-hmm. We’ll fix it.”

  “What would I do without you?” His chin rested on her head.

  “You’d get your ass kicked for serving skunked beer, that’s what you’d do.”

  Beck’s hand smoothed over her hair. “Well, then thank goodness you’re on my side.”

  “Always.” She rose to her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his lips.

  He didn’t need encouragement. Wrapping his arms around her midsection, he cupped her butt and lifted her onto the edge of the desk. Mouth to mouth, heart to heart, she ran her fingers through his hair. He’d let it grow, and she loved the way the ends curled over her fingers. He nudged between her legs, pushing her thighs apart with his hips.

  “We don’t have time,” she mumbled into his mouth.

  “Two minutes. Then I’ll go take care of the beer.”

  Two minutes would turn into two hours if she let it. Time had a funny way of passing too quickly when she immersed herself in Beck.

  He worked his hands under her shirt while his mouth connected with her neck. She moaned. What was two minutes in the grand scheme of things?

  “Charlie?” The office door creaked open.

  She hopped off the desk, right into Beck. One hand yanked her shirt down, the other went to his chest, pushing him back to create a little space between them.

  Dwight’s head poked through the crack in the door. “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” The narrowed eyes and tight-lipped grimace showed he knew exactly what they’d been up to.

  “No, I, uh, was just heading out front to talk to Shep about that beer.
” Beck stumbled backward.

  “And I have to head out on some errands. We were just—”

  “Talking,” Beck said, at the same time she said, “Going over some financials.”

  Dwight squinted at them, obviously not buying the story they were selling. “I see. Dixie’s out front collecting canned goods for some charity.”

  “I’ll be right there.” Charlie nodded, eager for Dwight to disappear.

  “I’ll tell her.” He didn’t retreat, just glared at Beck.

  “You can go now,” Charlie said.

  He left but didn’t pull the door closed behind him.

  “I don’t think Dwight likes me anymore.” Beck hugged her to him.

  “I wouldn’t worry about Dwight.” She snuggled against him for another long moment, then regretfully pulled away. “I’ve got to go. I have a ton of errands to run and then the vet’s coming over to take a look at Baby Back. She’s been acting funny for the past couple of days.”

  “You want me to come with you?”

  “Nah. You take care of the beer situation. I’ll take care of the pig.”

  Beck released her, but not before stealing another kiss.

  She paused at the door. “Oh, and don’t forget, my family is coming for dinner tonight.”

  “That’s right. I’ll be on my best behavior.”

  He’d better be. They’d been sneaking around and trying to keep things quiet, but everyone seemed to know what was going on anyway. And what they didn’t know, they’d made up. Shep even told her one of the regulars said he’d seen the two of them skinny-dipping in the creek a couple days before. She’d decided she better clue in her family before her dad heard something through the grapevine and decided to test out his new bull castration equipment on her boyfriend.

  Tonight would be the night. She’d invited the whole family to an early dinner at the Rambling Rose. Come tomorrow, she’d be either breathing easier or disowned. Based on the reconnaissance Darby had been running, it didn’t sound like her brothers would be too rough on Beck. But there was one thing about the Walker boys she could count on—they were predictably unpredictable.