“Well, no. I only submitted yours. No point in us looking desperate.”
“Yeah, heaven forbid that ever happens.” I shove my fingers through my hair, mostly to keep them from going around his neck. For now. “So, what? You just woke up one morning and decided to submit my name for the show because—what? You were fucking bored?”
His mouth twists into a smirk, and I upgrade my desire from strangling him to punching him in the face. Let’s see what the women think when he’s missing a few teeth.
“For your information,” he says. “I wasn’t bored that morning. Fucking, yes. Bored, no.”
I don’t even want to know who he was screwing. Like Jake and I, Noah isn’t interested in settling down.
“But why the hell submit my name?” I say in what comes out as a growl. Satisfaction slithers through me at his sheepish reaction. Good, I can work with that. “What was wrong with submitting your name? And don’t give me that crap about me being the oldest.”
“It can’t be me,” Noah says. “I’m not looking at settling down.”
I fist my hands on my hips to keep from grabbing the paint brush and drawing a brown stripe across his face. Immature? Possibly. But you can’t say he doesn’t deserve it. “And when exactly did I say I want to settle down?”
“Really? Because the way I remember it, you had a serious girlfriend at one point. Sounds to me like you were willing to settle down.”
“A serious girlfriend who I found in your arms one day, kissing you. Or are you forgetting that?”
He cringes at the not-so-pleasant reminder. Score one for me. “I told you it wasn’t my fault. Katherine was the one who came on to me, not the other way around.”
I slap my forehead. “That’s right. How could I be such an idiot?” There’s more sarcasm in that than there is horseshit in the stable. “I forgot how you were pushing her away and telling her ‘no.’ ”
He grimaces at that reminder, too. He had done nothing to dissuade her. He had been getting into it as much as she was.
“How many times do I have to tell you why I did that?” He’s not mad, just exasperated.
I on the other hand…
“Right, because you thought I didn’t deserve her.”
“Damn straight you didn’t deserve her. You’re a helluva lot better than Katherine will ever be. You just didn’t want to see it.”
If this were a boxing match, he just scored a direct hit. He’s right. I didn’t want to see any of that. Like Violet, Katherine never had the desire to stay in Copper Creek permanently. Like Violet, she never had the desire to be a rancher’s wife.
Katherine saw my being an up-and-coming rodeo-circuit star as her eventual ticket out of town—with me going with her.
Noah raises his hands like a criminal caught stealing fruit-flavored condoms. “Look, I realize now that I handled it badly. I could have told her to fuck off when she came on to me. You’re my brother, and you’ll always come first. I thought I was doing you a favor.” He grins—a warning that we’re about to be hit by Noah Logic. “And you have to admit, I did do you a favor. If you ended up marrying her, your marriage was already doomed to fail. At least I saved you from paying alimony.”
That’s Noah for you—always finding the twisted bright side to everything.
“Okay, so you did me a favor with the whole Katherine fiasco. But where the hell did you get the impression I want to settle down? She was my girlfriend. That’s all. We weren’t engaged or married. And where the hell did you get the idea I’d want to marry a screwed-up version of a mail-order bride?” I fold my arms, my muscles overwound rubber bands, ready to snap at even the slightest breeze.
Noah makes a sound that’s a cross between a grunt and a groan. “She’s not a mail-order bride.”
I don’t say anything. I just narrow my eyes at him.
He shifts on his feet and sidesteps, possibly inching his way to the door, and lets out a long hard breath. “Because this ranch means as much to you as it does to Jake and me. Maybe even more so. Jake and I have options if we decide to walk away from it. What do you have?”
He has a point there, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.
And it doesn’t mean I have to do the show. I’ll find another way to save the ranch.
I snatch up the paintbrush and stalk to the sink. “You’ll just have to tell the producers that after some consideration, I’m withdrawing my application.”
Problem solved.
“Can’t do that.”
“Fine, then I’ll do it.” I turn the water on a little too forcefully. Clunk eek boom is the only warning I get before my T-shirt becomes a casualty of this discussion. Cold water sprays at me from the tap and seeps through the fabric.
Fuck.
“Because there’s no way in hell I’m going through with it,” I say without missing a beat…and as if my T-shirt isn’t clinging to my abs.
Both brothers snicker but are smart enough to contain their laughter.
“You don’t have any choice in the matter,” Noah says.
“Sure, I do.” I don’t bother looking at him as I focus on cleaning the brush.
“Not unless you want to be sued.”
My head jerks around and I glare over my shoulder. “Why would they sue me for changing my mind?”
“Because it’s in the contract you signed.”
My gut sinks faster than Thor’s hammer in quicksand.
I spin around to face Noah so rapidly, I’m surprised the friction between my boots and the wooden floor doesn’t spark a fire. “I didn’t sign a contract.” How could I have signed a contract for something I didn’t enter?
The realization as to who did sign it hits me, and my gut finishes its descent to the floor. “You forged my signature?” And more importantly, how many other times has he done that?
Noah snorts. “As if I can forge that mess. No, you signed it yourself.”
“No, I didn’t.” I would remember something like that, and I definitely wouldn’t have signed it.
“Sure you did, but you were in a rush and didn’t bother to read what you were signing.” He shakes a finger at me. “You really should read everything you sign. You never know when someone is trying to screw you over.”
Given the circumstances, what are the odds the Montana courts will let me off on justified homicide if I strangle my brother? Because right now, that’s exactly what I’m planning to do.
“Why don’t I remember signing it?”
“You might have been a little distracted at the time. I told you it was for horse feed, and you signed it.”
“And you saw nothing wrong with lying?”
“I was thinking about how this would benefit the ranch.”
I can only roll my eyes at that. “Let me get this straight…if I win, I have to get married? And that’s in the contract?”
“It only states that the winner agrees to propose to the woman after she chooses him. And I did some research on the other two shows. Most of the couples split up a few months after the final episode airs. They don’t get married. At least not to each other.”
Jake rubs his thumb against his jaw—the look he gets when he’s contemplating something. Except in this case, I have a feeling I won’t like what he’s considering.
“It might work,” he says.
“What will work?” I ask.
“This lame-brained scheme of his.” He nods at Noah. “It might be worth a try. What’s the worst that can happen?”
I raise an eyebrow with a silent Do-you-really-want-me-to-answer-that?
Right—I thought not.
4
Three and a half weeks ago, Noah announced he had found a new way to screw up my life. Okay, that wasn’t quite how he had stated it, but close enough.
Dread now plays an out-of-tune wedding march in my veins. The day I had prayed would never come is unfortunately here.
The good news? Well, for Noah anyway. I haven’t tried to kill him. Yet.
&nb
sp; It’s still early.
Usually, riding Thor soothes me. But not this time. This time as my horse walks along the path to the ranch house, I’m feeling the opposite of soothed.
Normally, I love the two-story house my brothers and I live in. Stucco and stone and wood and windows comprise the building that is as grand as the Bitterroot Mountains. I spent so much time here as a kid, it felt like home even before it officially became our home.
Yes, normally I love this house—but right now, it looms ahead of me like a carnival funhouse. A carnival funhouse complete with a scary-ass clown.
A group of cars and vans that weren’t on the long, curved driveway a few hours ago are parked there now. We stop our horses several yards from the edge of the driveway.
“You ready for this?” Jake gestures to the group with a nod.
“They’re early.” I dismount from Thor. What I really want to do is turn around and gallop off. Become a mountain hermit for a few months. Anything to escape this.
Jake laughs down at me from his saddle. “Try not to sound too excited about meeting the people who are introducing you to your future wife.”
I glare at him with a grunt. “You’re not as funny as you think.”
That causes him to laugh harder. “Sophie seems to think I’m funny.”
“I’d say that’s because she’s an idiot, but lightning might strike me for lying.” The last thing anyone can call Sophie is an idiot. She’s smart as all hell. “So…I’m going with horse manure must have temporarily messed with her brain.”
That would also explain her reaction whenever she sees me since she found out I’m participating in the reality show. Every time she looks in my direction, she bursts out laughing. The same deal with Aubrey.
“Guess I should get this over with. The sooner we start this, the sooner they can leave.”
“Just remember what’s at stake here,” Jake says, dismounting from Orion.
“My sanity?”
“No—that I’m sure you lost a while ago. I’m referring to our reputation. I’ve been watching old episodes of the other two shows and reading about them in general.” Holding Orion’s reins, he walks around the front of his horse to join me between Orion and Thor. “The producers like to turn some contestants into villains, even though in real life they’re nothing like how the show portrays them. The last thing we need is for the producers to paint you as an asshole.”
“Is it too late to kill Noah?”
He laughs again. This time the level of humor isn’t quite what it was before. It’s taken a quick dip in the pool of reality. “Probably.”
Jake and I lead our horses over to the group. Asgard, my two-year-old Aussie shepherd, follows next to me.
By the time we reach the driveway, everyone is out of their vehicles and convening as a group, along with Noah, in front of a black car.
Well, not everyone.
“Hey, what are you two doing here?” I ask Sophie and Aubrey as they walk up to us.
With Sophie, it’s not a big surprise that she’s here. She works at the ranch. But as far as I know, Aubrey should be at her clinic.
“We’re here to be supportive friends,” Sophie says, grinning. It’s Aubrey’s smile that has me frowning. It’s one of those smug I-know-something-you-don’t-know smiles she used to give me when we were teens.
The one that always surfaced right before I got in trouble at school.
“Why do I have a hard time believing that?” I say.
“All right, we’re curious as hell.”
“You do remember what happened to the curious cat, don’t you?” I mime a slicing motion across my neck.
Both women laugh. “I’m sure we’ll survive,” Aubrey says.
The sole woman with the group on the driveway is nothing like Sophie or Aubrey—nor is she similar to the girls who hang out at Joe’s and the rodeos, hoping to hook up with a cowboy. She’s wearing a tight, gray skirt that stops just above her knees, a white blouse, and heels. Her light blonde hair is pulled back in a low bun. She looks like she’d be more comfortable in an office than on a ranch.
Jake gives a low whistle of appreciation, unheard by the group on the driveway or by Sophie and Aubrey. “I don’t suppose that’s your intended bride.”
“Thought I wasn’t meeting her unless I make it to the next round.”
“Maybe she changed her mind about waiting. She certainly seems to like what she sees.” He chuckles, keeping the smirk in his laugh off his face.
Asshole.
But he’s right about the way she’s checking me out. Her gaze slowly skims up my body: boots, jeans, black T-shirt, and cowboy hat. She gives a slight nod, as if answering a question in her head.
She then says something to Noah. I can almost imagine him rubbing his hands in glee at how his dumbass plan is coming together. I bet Violet, with her marketing degree, wouldn’t have dreamed up anything as crazy as this.
The woman’s gaze lands on Asgard, and she takes a wary step back. “Oh, what an adorable dog.”
From her reaction, you’d think she was expecting him to turn into a doggy vampire, launch himself at her, and dig his fangs into her neck. Instead, he barks his agreement that he is indeed an adorable dog and sits.
He glances up at me, with his typical doggy grin, waiting for me to agree with her.
“Yes, Asgard,” I say on a sigh and scratch him behind the ear. “You’re an adorable dog.”
He barks again, pleased.
“Asgard?” the blonde says. “Isn’t that from the movie Thor?”
“It’s from Norse mythology.” My gaze flicks to Noah. His eyes are slightly wide, and he gives a small shake of his head. In other words, he never mentioned my love of Norse mythology on the application, and he never mentioned my love of Marvel comics.
Because what grown man still reads comics?
Ignoring Noah’s warning, I rub Thor’s muzzle. “And this is Thor.”
The stallion nods his head and whinnies at her. The woman lifts an eyebrow—possibly because of his reaction or because of his name.
“That’s his way of saying hi,” I explain. “He can be a bit of a flirt.” Especially when it comes to Sophie and Aubrey.
“Well, hi to you, too,” she says to him, then extends her hand to me. “I’m Camilla Collins, the show’s creator and one of the co-producers.”
I shake her hand and introduce her to Jake, Sophie, and Aubrey. In turn, Camilla introduces me to the director and the group of eight or so men standing behind them. All are dressed in either jeans or shorts and sneakers. None look like they’ve grown up on a ranch.
They’re the crew who will be following me around for the next seven days. “…showing the world how sexy you are,” Camilla says with a confident smile.
The eyes of some of the men mock me with a better-you-than-me smirk. I’d be surprised if my own don’t say, I’d rather jab my foot with a pitchfork than do this.
But since I need my feet so I can do my job—and sticking a pitchfork into my foot won’t help promote the ranch—I don’t have a choice but to suck it up.
And spend the next seven days cursing Noah.
“We want you to just go about your normal day-to-day routines and ignore the camera,” Camilla explains.
“That’s it?”
“I’ll also be interviewing you so that Natalie and the audience can get to know you better. Plus we have a photographer who will be shooting both action shots and portraits of you, to post on our website and social media sites.”
I fire Jake a look that can be roughly translated as, I bet their website is a helluva lot better than ours.
“Do you usually wear T-shirts while working?” Camilla asks matter-of-factly. She says it at the same moment the sound of a car engine yanks my attention away. I glance to see who’s coming up the driveway but don’t recognize the vehicle.
“That would be our photographer.” Camilla gives the driver a friendly wave.
The car parks behind a
white van and the driver cuts the engine. The door opens, and the driver climbs out.
Holy. Shit.
At the sight of the woman who I’ve secretly wished for the past few years would move back to Copper Creek, my heart picks up its pace…and my cock says, Hot damn!
5
I’ve never done drugs.
Okay, let me change that to, I’ve never done illegal drugs—the kinds of drugs that alter your perception of reality. I’ve never felt the need to.
But at this moment, my first thought is that God has rolled a massive joint and is blowing smoke in my face.
That’s the only explanation for why Violet is standing there, wearing cowboy boots and a lacy white dress that reveals mouthwatering long legs. Long legs that when I was a teen caused many a morning wood.
It’s all a delusion.
And since it is just a delusion, why shouldn’t I get to enjoy it some more?
I go back to checking out the view.
Violet’s shiny brown hair brushes against her bare shoulders. The hair I long to run my fingers through, to see if it feels as soft as it looks. The shoulders I crave to kiss, to lick, to taste.
Around her waist is the gift I gave her for her seventeenth birthday: a western leather belt with a horse’s head engraved on the buckle. In retrospect, the gift might not have been a good idea—if Austin’s comments back then were any indication. After he witnessed her innocently kissing my cheek, he pulled me aside and interrogated me. Interrogated me as to why I gave her the present. Interrogated me as to my intentions when it came to his sister—only he didn’t state it quite so nicely.
And then he made it clear what he would do to me if my thoughts about her were less than brotherly.
That was before he spent eight years in the military.
I’m sure he has since added to the list. Added newly acquired torture techniques. All with the Navy SEALs’ stamp of approval.
Let the fun times commence.
“This should be interesting,” Jake says, low enough so only I hear him. His tone is sitting on the fence. Cracking up is on one side, concern on the other. And right now, his tone is tottering more on the laughter side of things. “And by the way, you might want to close your mouth before it fills up with horseflies.”
Cowboy Most Wanted Page 3
