Hard Riding Cowboy

by Maisey Yates

  “Okay. Give me your phone.” She took it from him and called herself from it. “There. Now I’m in your call log.”

  “Perfect.” He stood up, tapped the table, then picked up his coffee cup. And then, he tipped his hat. By the time he turned around and left, her head was spinning.

  And she couldn’t help but think that it was a very good thing she had run into him. Except...

  Except she felt kind of dizzy. And she didn’t think it was just because of how fast all that had happened.

  He wants to help you. And you need help a hell of a lot more than you need a kiss... Or anything else.

  It was true.

  And anyway, she had taken care of Calder when he’d been a little boy. Now he was taking care of her.

  There. That should kill any and all ridiculous attraction she felt.

  It should. But it didn’t.

  But, ridiculous attraction or not, suddenly the list of things in the planner seemed a whole lot less insurmountable.

  And she was just going to take that as a win.

  CHAPTER TWO

  LAUREN BISHOP WAS back in town.

  There had been a lot of women in his life between that moment when she had walked into his family home when he was twelve years old, his new babysitter and also the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen in his life, and now.

  But she was still the ultimate fantasy. She always had been.

  Of course, he’d been a kid and had felt every inch the twelve-year-old standing next to the tall, beautiful seventeen-year-old she’d been.

  But now, he was much taller than she was, and he definitely didn’t feel like a kid around her.

  She had kids. She was a widow.

  He supposed that was something he was going to have to think on. When he thought of Lauren Bishop—and God help him, late at night sometimes he did, because she’d been the very first object of desire he’d ever had—he thought of them as equals.

  But they weren’t. And that was a helluva thing. She’d done more living than him. Had more baggage.

  That easy, fun hookup he’d fantasized about... Well, that was looking unlikely.

  But for now... He was consumed with the fact that he wanted to help her. He wasn’t exactly the most altruistic son of a bitch in general. In fact, usually, when helping a woman he would have an ulterior motive.

  Well, if he were honest it wasn’t that he didn’t have one now. It was just that... He had meant what he said. He didn’t want payment. Not in the form of sex. If she wanted to have sex, fine. He was all for putting to bed one of the oldest fantasies he possessed. Literally, if the opportunity presented itself.

  But there was something about her. About the way she had looked sitting there, and hell, the way she had been checking him out. And, she had been checking him out, there was no doubt about that.

  He took a deep breath and looked around him, at the mountains, standing sentry all around the fields, which rolled forward in a lush green spread toward the fence line of the Reid family ranch. This place hadn’t changed a lick in the last couple of decades, and given that, he supposed he shouldn’t be very surprised that the way Lauren Bishop made him feel hadn’t changed much either.

  Of course, the big difference was that now he knew exactly what feelings like that meant. He knew exactly what to do with a woman now.

  The idea made desire pool low and hot and heavy in his gut.

  “You got plans for tonight?”

  He turned and saw his brother Tanner standing there, looking at him speculatively.

  “Yes,” he returned. “Why?”

  “Savannah and Jackson were planning a dinner to plan a dinner. It’s almost Lily’s birthday.”

  “Oh.” He frowned. “Well, I’ll make sure I’m around for the squirt’s birthday but I might skip the planning stage. I promised a lady I would come help fix some things in her house.”

  Tanner arched a brow. “Is that a euphemism for a booty call?”

  He shrugged. But, for the first time since Lauren had set him so firmly on his ass, he felt a little bit more balanced. Because the fact of the matter was, it was not a booty call. He actually wanted to help.

  Mostly.

  He felt a little bit superior to Tanner in that moment. Mostly because he doubted Tanner could say that he had ever helped a woman for the sake of it.

  “I’m just helping out,” Calder said.

  She needed something, and he could give it. His whole damned family was so stunted in that area. His father going from marriage to marriage, ignoring his boys. Treating them more like ranch hands than sons half the time.

  Calder had always wanted to help. To try to make an impact. His father hadn’t let him. Granted, fixing floors and throwing some paint on the wall wasn’t an emotional fix, but it was what Lauren needed, and he was happy to give it.

  “Is that so?” Tanner looked completely skeptical.

  “It is so. Is that so hard to believe?”

  Tanner snorted. “Hell yes.”

  “You remember Lauren Bishop? She used to babysit me.”

  “Oh yeah,” he said. “Pretty. Blonde. You used to drool on her when she walked in the door.”

  He frowned. “I never drooled on her.”

  “I think you did.”

  “That was just because I had braces and it was impossible not to drool sometimes, you asshole.” Tanner looked amused, and Calder made a deliberate effort to calm down because his brother didn’t get to make him that mad. Not about bullshit from seventeen years ago. “But anyway,” Calder continued. “She’s back in town.”

  “And you can’t honestly tell me that you are hoping to do something other than satisfy your hot for babysitter issues?”

  “Hoping to and planning on are two different things. She’s trying to fix up a house. She’s a single mom.”

  “Oh,” Tanner said, frowning.

  “What’s that for?”

  “It’s just... I know you’re not going to take it there now.”

  “Do you?”

  “Yeah. That’s not your thing.”

  “I don’t... What’s not my thing?”

  “Single moms you have to be careful with. Single moms are either supertemporary or very permanent. But if it was the supertemporary thing, you would already know that sex was happening.”

  “You know this from experience?”

  Tanner arched a brow. “I’m not a monk.”

  “Yeah, you’re not me either. So it’s not like you have a hell of a lot more experience.” That was just a fact. Tanner was... He was the oldest. As a result he was a little bit more... Measured in his activities. Jackson had been the real manwhore in the trio of brothers, but that had all come home to roost in the form of a baby he hadn’t realized one of his one-night stands had given birth to. Until the woman had dropped her off on Jackson’s doorstep and fled. Leaving him holding the baby.

  He had been in over his head for a while, trying to adjust to fatherhood, until he had hired Savannah Sturm to be his nanny. Savannah was now his wife, the baby was about to turn a year old, and Calder had never seen Jackson happier.

  Which really was something to think about.

  “Still,” Tanner said. “I get around. I just do it with a little less of a show than you two.”

  “Why is that? So you can avoid Chloe stamping around and passing comment on your behavior?”

  Their younger stepsister lived on the property, and it was pretty obvious to Calder that she had a bit of a crush on Tanner. Inappropriate as that was. Tanner didn’t seem any the wiser, though, and seemed to regard Chloe as little more than a gnat buzzing in his ear.

  “Chloe passes judgment on what I do no matter what,” Tanner said. “But we’re not talking about me.”

  “I’m just helping her out,” Calder said. “Her
husband died, Tanner.”

  He didn’t know how long ago. He didn’t know what the story was. It hadn’t been pure sadness on her face when she had said she was widowed.

  There was something else.

  She had looked fragile, but angry. And he had wanted to dig, had wanted to find out what exactly had gone on. That was uncharacteristic. He had watched his father live out a series of relationship dramas. There had been many wives, many stepmothers. A whole lot of angry fights. Calder had never really had the desire to enter into the institution of matrimony. He figured the Reid men collectively had exceeded their personal allotment of marriages, anyway.

  Also, having never seen it last... He’d been cynical about it from the get-go.

  Granted, Calder’s father had been married to Chloe’s mother until the old man had died. But, he had half wondered if his father simply hadn’t had the energy to cycle through wives anymore at that point. Calder had always liked his relationships easy. And nothing about Lauren Bishop would be easy.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Tanner said. “Must be rough. And really rough for her poor kids.”

  Calder’s stomach twisted. He might not know about losing a parent when he was a kid, but he knew what it was like to have one walk away. It was tough. There was no way you can go through that and not feel loss. Anger. Abandonment.

  He thought back to the anger on Lauren’s face, and he wondered if she felt something of the same, even though she had lost her husband to death. He wondered if her kids felt the same, too.

  “I’m really not going to mess around with her,” Calder said.

  “Good,” Tanner responded. “I can come with you if you want. Lend a helping hammer.”

  Calder bristled at the thought. All right, maybe he wasn’t holding out hope that anything would happen between himself and Lauren, but being alone would certainly raise the odds. And anyway, he wasn’t sure he wanted to share the glory of helping with Tanner.

  He possessed only so much altruism in his body. If he wasn’t going to get laid, he would be the knight in shining armor. If it was going to be courtly love, then he would be the only knight at the round table.

  “I got it,” he said.

  Tanner shook his head. “You can’t help yourself, can you?”

  “What?”

  “You’re hoping. You might not be actively trying to get something going, but you’re sure as hell not closing the door.”

  “Hey,” he said. “If the woman wants to have a no-strings fling at any point while I’m helping her out, I’m not going to say no. I’m not going to instigate either, but I’m not going to say no.”

  “Just so we’re clear.”

  Tanner just laughed. “Well, enjoy swinging a hammer tonight.”

  He watched his brother turn and walk away, and he let the previous conversation roll over him.

  Lauren had kids. She had lost her husband.

  All of it should make him want to run the other direction and not pursue anything. Not the potential of no-strings sex, not even nailing a picture frame to the wall. Because hell, for all he knew, she might be looking for a replacement husband. And he certainly wasn’t going to fit the bill.

  Of course, she was the one who had tried to chase him off with the mention of the kids earlier. So, her looking for a husband was unlikely.

  Even still, he knew plenty of men who would run the other direction for fear that she was on the prowl for something permanent.

  He didn’t feel compelled to run. In fact, he found himself looking forward to doing repair work more than he ever had in his life.

  CHAPTER THREE

  LAUREN DIDN’T KNOW what to do with herself, not just because her house didn’t contain any furniture. Though that didn’t help at all.

  It was empty, and she had nowhere to sit but the floor. There was a blanket laid out there on the carpet, because Calder had said he was going to bring food. But that meant the two of them were going to be engaged in some kind of weird indoor picnic. And it was going to make her protestations from earlier seem awfully hollow.

  Because there was no way that didn’t look like she was hitting on him.

  Was she hitting on him?

  She was not the kind of girl who hooked up just because she saw a man and thought he was hot. And sure, most of that was related to having been married for thirteen years, but regardless, because of circumstances, she hadn’t really experienced anything like that. And she couldn’t say that she was that eager to either.

  But Calder made her feel eager to. Unbidden, she had a flash in her mind of what it would be like. To experience all that strength pounding into her.

  She bit the inside of her cheek and closed her eyes. She never thought about things in those terms. She hadn’t had a fantasy that graphic when she was married. Of course, then, sex had been pretty casual. Easily accessible.

  Her husband had always been up for it, more or less. The question was always whether or not she was in the mood after spending two days being ignored, or if he came home with beer on his breath. How able she was to ignore the fact that he had probably been driving.

  Robert had never been cruel. At least, not intentionally. He had just never aged past eighteen, when the height of a good time to him was going out, getting drunk and riding on the dunes with his buddies. Disappearing for a few days to go on a hunt. To go camping. He thought nothing of making big purchases without checking with her. Thought nothing of going out drinking every night and coming home late, totally missing family dinners.

  Didn’t see why he should be expected to show at the kids’ birthday parties, because they were boring. He could never get it through his head that she didn’t really think they were fun but she threw them anyway. Because love was about giving. Not taking.

  He’d never understood that.

  The fact of the matter was he had been a terrible husband. And that would have been almost forgivable if he hadn’t been such a neglectful father. He had loved the girls, in a strange, hands-off kind of way.

  He had showed off their pictures to anyone who came into his garage. Had talked about them like his world revolved around them, but his actions had never once matched up with that. He wasn’t the one driving them to sports and lessons. He wasn’t the one sitting through recitals. The money he made working for the body shop paid for all that stuff, and in his mind, that had been enough. Except, there was a certain point where she had been making as much as he was, and then later more with her home business, and he had never quite realized that. That it saved them when he went out and did dumbass shit like buying a toy trailer without asking. Without checking to see what they owed on their taxes.

  Those thoughts made her feel guilty because she couldn’t think about anything without remembering the frustration she had felt toward him at the end.

  Couldn’t think about the way she had felt about him in the beginning. Couldn’t think about the fact that that first time they’d had sex had been really nice.

  Fun.

  He had been fun. In the beginning.

  And more than that, he’d been her choice. So everything that followed...it was her consequence and she had to own it.

  Sometimes she could remember why she’d made that choice.

  How he felt like a chance to escape her somewhat sedate and restrictive upbringing. Something wild.

  But as their family had grown, as their list of responsibilities had grown, fun hadn’t been enough for her anymore. And he had never been able to understand that. He had always said that she was the one who had changed. And he wasn’t wrong. She had changed and he hadn’t. But considering they had gotten together when they were still teenagers, he should have changed. For their children if not for her.

  Instead, he was dead. He was dead because he drank too many beers and had thought doing a round on the dunes in his four-wheeler was a good i
dea.

  It damn well hadn’t been.

  There was a knock at the door and she stood, grateful for the interruption of her thoughts. The Robert rabbit trail of thought was unhappy. No matter how she looked at it. Even down to the fact that she wasn’t able to mourn him the way that she wished she could.

  Because he hadn’t been the husband and father she wished he had been.

  She sighed and walked over to the door, her chest tightening a bit when she saw the vague impression of Calder through the mottled glass.

  She could see that he was carrying a large brown paper bag. The food, she presumed.

  She pulled the door open.

  “Hi,” she said, the word starting strong, then fading to a whisper as she took in the sight of him. Damn he was hot. Really, really hot. He was wearing that same black T-shirt and black cowboy hat he had on earlier, and he was carrying food. Which frankly, just made him all the more attractive.

  “Burgers,” he said. “I forgot to check if you were like a vegetarian or something.”

  “Not,” she said.

  He nodded and came in without waiting for her to invite him. His eyes fell to the blanket on the floor and she shifted uncomfortably.

  “I don’t have any furniture in here yet. Technically, the house isn’t mine. But the owners agreed to let me have a key, and let me do all this work. My real estate agent is opposed to it, because the bank could still ultimately decline the loan.”

  “Why are you doing it?”

  “It’s a short sale. And it’s a killer deal. And it’s kind of an endless circle, because the bank won’t give me the loan unless these repairs are done, but the owners can’t afford to do the repairs. So, I’m going to do them so that it passes inspection. And I might lose all my money. And my whole investment.”

  “Not if I have anything to do with it.”

  “I really do appreciate your offer to help,” she said.

  He walked farther into the room, setting the bag down on the blanket, and sitting himself down, as well.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “Honestly—” he waved a hand “—it’s no problem.”