Saved by the Cowboy

by A. J. Pine

  Cash barked out a laugh, and Olivia swept her foot beneath his, sending him off balance and onto his own ass as well.

  He crawled to her side and leaned over her.

  “Is this what you meant by falling for me and with me?”

  She winced. “Maybe not quite so literally, but then, I never could stay on my own two feet around you, Sheriff.”

  He shrugged. “Works for me.”

  And then her arms were around his neck again as she pulled him to her, their mouths colliding to seal the deal.

  “You’re gonna have to start driving slower,” he said. He kissed her again—lips touching lips, then along the line of her jaw, down her neck…

  “How else am I supposed to get the attention of the town’s sexy sheriff?” she asked.

  He rose to his knees and scooped her into his arms. “You got a room at that B and B?”

  She grinned. “I sure do.”

  “Well then, Ms. Belle, consider yourself in police custody for the rest of the night.”

  She pressed her forehead to his. “You mean yours, right? Would now be a bad time to tell you about the speeding ticket I got on my way into town tonight?”

  He stood, set her down on her feet, then held out his palm.

  She reached into her pocket and pulled out her car keys, handing them over without protest.

  “You’re not headed anywhere this weekend. At the rate you’re going your license will be suspended by the new year.”

  She shrugged. “Keep ’em. No reason to run off in a hurry anymore. I’m right where I belong.” They kissed once more, her knees buckling against his, ready to fall and save each other again and again.

  Lily Green is ready for a fresh start, but she’s hit a few stumbling blocks. One, the first job for her catering company turns out to be her ex-husband’s wedding. And two, she’s stuck working the event with Luke Everett, a man she can’t stand…and who she can’t stop thinking about.

  See the next page for a preview of Tough Luck Cowboy.

  Chapter One

  Lily Green stood outside the entrance of the Crossroads Vineyard tasting room. The place was still under construction and not yet open, but Jack Everett was expecting her. She glanced back at the Audi RS 3, the car that had impressed her the night she met Tucker Green. Now it was listed in the sheaf of papers under her arm as one of many assets turned over to her in the divorce agreement. She’d signed and initialed each and every page in the stack, read them through again, and then once more before leaving her house this morning.

  “Well,” she said aloud to no one in particular. “There you have it.”

  Lily Green knew what it was like to be left. At the ripe old age of twelve, her own father decided that both marriage and parenting weren’t his chosen path in life. And after cleaning out the joint savings account he shared with Lily’s mother, he disappeared from both their lives. His not loving her mother anymore would have been enough. But what about his daughter? He hadn’t loved Lily enough to stay in touch, let alone in town. That had been fifteen years ago, and she and her mom were still rebuilding the foundation he tore down with that one little decision.

  “That’s why I did everything by the book,” she said, answering her inner monologue. Good grades, scholarships to offset loans, marrying the guy who promised stability and a future for both of them. Her life path consisted of planned-out decisions that were supposed to be foolproof. Instead she’d fooled herself into thinking history wouldn’t repeat itself. She just hadn’t expected she’d be the one to leave.

  Lily Green, the girl voted most likely to teach life who was boss—because yes, that’s exactly what her senior superlative had said—was twenty-six and had been thoroughly schooled by life instead.

  Scratch that. Twenty-seven. Because of course she was finalizing the details of her divorce on her birthday.

  “Guess there’s nothing left to do but make this official, right?”

  But no one answered. She was still talking to herself. Prolonging the inevitable.

  A shiver ran through her, and Lily wondered if it was the crisp October afternoon or the realization that a carefully cultivated plan could still run off the track. She squinted into the sun, which shone bright over the burgeoning California vineyard. The Everett brothers were sure as hell showing life who was boss, and despite the weight on her chest, that thought elicited a smile.

  She fingered the silver wishbone pendant that hung at her neck, the only gift her mom could afford when she’d graduated culinary school.

  “I always knew you’d do better than I did at figuring life out,” she’d said. “Look at you—on your way to doing such great things. I’ll never stop being proud of you.”

  Great things, huh? She was jobless, almost divorced, and completely and totally lost. How could she tell her mom that?

  She couldn’t. Not yet. She’d call home eventually. When she could think of the right words. When she would be ready to hear the disappointment in her mother’s voice.

  Right now she squared her shoulders and pushed through the tall wooden door, ready to get down to business, and stopped short at the scene before her.

  At a workbench stood the owners of the Crossroads Ranch and soon-to-be Vineyard—three tall, strapping men all in well-worn jeans and well-fitting T-shirts that were sprinkled with sawdust or dirt. This was all juxtaposed by their raised hands, each awkwardly gripping the stem of a wineglass.

  “You need to swirl it first, like this, letting it breathe.”

  Across from the rugged blond Everett brothers stood a beautiful redhead. Ava Ellis, Jack’s fiancée and resident wine expert.

  “Why the hell do crushed, fermented grapes need to breathe?” the youngest of the three men—Walker—asked.

  Ava let out a sigh and narrowed her eyes at her almost brother-in-law.

  “It’s oxygenating, opening up. This softens the taste, lets you truly get a sense of the aroma so you can learn to identify the ingredients.”

  Walker turned to his brothers. “Aroma?” He grunted. “Tell me she’s not going to make us sniff the damn grapes.”

  Lily stifled a laugh. They still hadn’t noticed her enter, and she did not want this performance to end on her account.

  “Pay attention, asshole,” Luke said. He was grinning.

  “If Ava wants you to sniff the damn grapes, you’re gonna sniff the damn grapes,” Jack added.

  Walker set his glass on the workbench in front of him and crossed his arms. “You fuckers can sniff. I’m waiting until it’s time to drink.”

  Ava just shook her head and laughed, dipping her nose toward the rim of the glass. She breathed in, eyes closed, and sighed with a smile.

  “Earthy, with a hint of black cherry,” she said, then opened her eyes. “What do you think?” she asked Luke and Jack.

  The two men swirled the wine in their glasses, both sloshing it over the rim.

  Ava giggled. Walker shook his head.

  “I just smell—wine,” Luke admitted.

  Jack looked at his fiancée and cleared his throat. “Totally earthy,” he echoed. “And black cherry-ish.”

  She crossed her arms. “You just smell wine. Don’t you?”

  He winced and then nodded. “Just wine. Sorry, Red. But you’re sexy as hell trying to teach our sorry asses how to do this.” He set his glass down and leaned across the workbench to kiss her, and Lily’s heart squeezed tight in her chest.

  She faked a cough, silently berating herself for interrupting the moment, but she could no longer stomach being the outsider looking in. She just wanted to do what needed to be done and get out.

  Everyone’s heads shot up and toward the door.

  “Nail gun,” Walker said, breaking the silence. “I need to, uh, do some manual labor involving a nail gun. That’s why I’m here.” He strode off to a far corner of the space where there was another workbench piled with tools.

  Lily couldn’t help laughing. Then Luke’s eyes found hers, and she felt suddenly
exposed. Luke was Tucker’s best friend, the only person who knew her ex-husband better than she did. Yet the way he looked at her—jaw clenched and eyes narrowed—showed exactly where his sympathy lay. Not that she was surprised. Luke Everett had never really been her biggest fan.

  “Lily,” he said with a curt nod as he ran a hand through his cropped blond hair. And then he strode right past her and out the door.

  Her mouth hung open.

  The two of them were far from best friends, but she’d never known him to be openly cruel. Luke Everett knew what today was, on both accounts. And he had the audacity to just saunter on by like it was any other day that ended in y.

  “What was that?” Ava asked.

  Lily shook her head. “Nothing.” Her brow furrowed. “He thinks I was a controlling shrew with Tucker, and I thought a married man should come home before dawn when he was out boozing it up with his buddies.”

  Ava knew about Tucker’s late nights out with the boys as well as his showing up at the Everett ranch at 2:00 a.m. the night Lily had walked out and crashed on Jack and Ava’s couch. He’d begged her to come home.

  Lily hadn’t told anyone about the infidelity, though. It had stung too much at the time it happened. Plus, it wasn’t anyone else’s business. Lily didn’t place all the blame for their divorce on Tucker’s actions. It took two to make a marriage work, and she owned her part in all of this.

  Ava gasped. “He called you a controlling shrew?”

  Lily huffed out a breath. “Well, not exactly in those words. But he has told me to lighten up or relax on several occasions, and I know all together those boil down to controlling shrew.”

  “Ugh,” Ava said. “I hate those words. Jack, if you ever told me to relax—”

  “He wouldn’t,” Lily said, coming to Jack’s defense.

  Ava smiled wistfully at her fiancé. “No, he wouldn’t.”

  Jack and Luke may have been brothers, but their personalities were miles apart. So Luke Everett found her uptight and felt the liberty to say so on more than one occasion. Why should she care? Did wanting to be organized or have some semblance of a plan make a person controlling? What was wrong with knowing what came next?

  Lily sighed.

  Ava pursed her lips. “Aw, honey. I’m sure Luke never meant to be an ass. I love him like a brother, but he’s just a big kid, you know? If it’s not a party, he wants no part in it.”

  “Yeah,” Jack added. “Other than ranching—and I will admit he does a damn good job around here—he’s sort of shit with the grown-up stuff. He’d rather be riding a horse or a bull than have to truly interact with the rest of the human race.”

  “I’ll let you two get down to business,” Ava said, giving Jack a kiss. “And I’ll leave the wine,” she added, her eyes now on Lily’s. “Just in case.”

  Lily forced a smile. “Thanks. I actually could use a glass. Or three.”

  Ava hugged her. The two had gotten to be close since Jack, Ava, and their ten-year-old son Owen had become frequent diners at BBQ on the Bluff—the main asset Tucker was retaining.

  “Come over for dinner after. If you’re up for it,” Ava said. “The boys are going to watch Luke at the rodeo. I’m staying home to finish up a paper for my art history class. I wouldn’t mind a small distraction.”

  Lily shook her head. “I’m gonna be terrible company tonight. Trust me. Thank you for offering, though. Plus Jack might bill me extra hours if I cost you valuable work time.”

  Jack winked. “I hadn’t thought of that, but now that you mention it…”

  Ava poked him square in his broad chest. “You behave, Jack Everett. Lily’s practically family, so I trust you’re giving her a family discount.”

  He just shook his head and laughed, his eyes lingering as he watched his fiancée stride out the door. Then he nodded toward a different door, a small one in the back of the space. “Shall we head to my office?” he asked.

  “No time like the present!” Her words were forcefully more enthusiastic than she’d intended, but whatever. She followed Jack to what might someday be an office but what certainly was not one today.

  He motioned for her to sit on one of the few pieces of furniture in the room, a futon that was at present in couch position. Other than that, a coffee table, and a small desk and chair, the room was empty. They were surrounded by unfinished drywall, but the air had that new house smell. She liked it. It was the smell of new beginnings.

  “Sorry,” he said. “We can head back to the ranch and go to my real office if you want.”

  “No, no.” She plopped down on the futon, and a cloud of dust rose to greet her. She coughed. “I wanted to see how the place was coming along. We can do this, and then you can give me the tour.”

  Jack dropped down next to her, and she narrowed her eyes.

  “What?” he asked, leaning back, an easy grin taking over his chiseled face.

  She let out a nervous laugh. “In faded jeans and a dirty tee, you just don’t look like a”—she switched to a whisper—“divorce lawyer.”

  Jack chuckled. “That’s because I’m a contract lawyer. You can still bail if you want the real deal.”

  She shook her head. She wasn’t one to bite the hand that fed her pro bono work. “It’s pretty cut-and-dry. The settlement, I mean. Tucker and I talked it all through. Plus, I did spend two full weekends at the library reading up on divorce law in whatever books and databases I could find.”

  Jack raised a brow. “That’s pretty thorough. You sure you need me at all?”

  She forced a smile. “Of course I do, but I like to make sure all the i’s are dotted and t’s crossed. Then you can double-check before I double-check again.” She took a breath. “I’m keeping the house and car. He’s buying me out of BBQ on the Bluff, which will give me the funds to start something just for me. I guess there wasn’t too much history to divide up.”

  “Something just for you?” he asked.

  She chewed on her bottom lip. “Always wanted my own restaurant.” Jack opened his mouth to say something, but she answered his question before he could ask it. “I know I already had that with Tucker. But it wasn’t really mine. I brought his ideas to fruition, but I wasn’t exactly passionate about barbecue.”

  Jack frowned. “But you were so damned good at it.”

  This made her laugh. “And someday I’ll be good at bringing my own ideas to reality. Until then I figure I could do some catering. You know? I get to cook without the overhead of running a whole restaurant until I make enough to open my own place.”

  “Will you still make your corn bread? For Owen, of course. He loves it.”

  She nodded. “Anything for that sweet little boy of yours. I may even let him share it with you.”

  Jack pulled out a pen from where it was hidden behind his ear and then held out his hand.

  “You gonna give me that envelope or keep hugging it?”

  She dipped her head toward her chest where she was, in fact, clutching said envelope to her torso like it was a life vest and she was floating in the middle of the Pacific.

  She hugged it a little tighter, like she was saying goodbye to an old friend. “I know this is all just a formality, but it’s formalities that make things real. You know? Tucker and I split six months ago, and despite everything that happened between us, I know it was the right decision for us. But after today I’m gonna be divorced, and I never planned on being divorced.”

  Jack wrapped his strong hand over the top of the envelope, and she finally relinquished.

  “You always live according to a plan?”

  She scoffed and reached into her oversize purse, pulling out her giant planner. She opened, leafing through the pages of color-coded lists, highlighted dates, and—the part she was most proud of—zero mistakes needing to be crossed out. Unless she went back to her planner from three years ago and crossed out the weekend when she and Tucker eloped. Because yes, she still had it.

  “Whoa,” Jack said, whistling softly. “That�
�s a little intense.”

  “It’s my life,” she said, her finger landing on today’s date, where nothing per se was written. There was just a drawing of a black arrow in the shape of a U.

  “A U-turn,” Jack said, stating the obvious.

  She nodded, sitting up straight. “Today is the day I turn it all around. I messed up. Married the wrong guy. Put my dream on hold for his. I detoured. Today I get back on track.”

  Jack leaned forward on his knees and pulled the papers from the envelope, leafing through them as he spoke.

  “You know,” he said, “there’s no shame in detouring.”

  She was afraid of this. The pep talk. But pep talks were meant for people who needed to be pepped. Buoyed. Propped up. But she’d managed on her own for six months already. Now wasn’t the time to start leaning. It was time to get back on track.

  U-turn.

  She stood quickly, straightening out nonexistent wrinkles in her skirt before grabbing her bag and dropping the planner back inside. “If nothing looks out of place on first glance, I think we can do that tour now. You’ll let me know if I missed anything, right? Or if Tucker snuck something past my own contract scrutiny.” She let out a soft laugh. Nothing got past her scrutiny. Well, other than her ex-husband’s infidelity.

  “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again—you’re going easy on him. You could have asked for a lot more in the settlement and gotten it easily.”

  Lily shook her head. “It’s more complicated than that. He did a bad thing, but he’s not a bad person. I don’t want to punish him with years of alimony or whatever. I want a clean break.” She brushed the dust off the back of her skirt. “I’m just going to wash my hands,” she said, turning toward the small bathroom.

  Jack pressed his lips into a smile. “Just don’t close the door all the way. The doorknob on the inside is a little temperamental.” He laughed. “Walker got stuck in there for two hours a month back.”

  She laughed softly as she turned on the sink and left the door wide open. “You didn’t know he was here?” she asked over the running water.