This Cowboy's a Keeper (Unlikely Cowgirl Book 3)

by Kimberly Krey

  “… So naturally the whole thing has me wondering if your dad’s as faithful as—”

  “Mom?” she finally said, leaning back against her seat.

  Thank heavens she’d taken her sunglasses off; Payton didn’t want to see herself in her mother’s eyes any longer. “Yes?” she asked, stunned.

  “I can’t do this.” Payton’s heart thumped and bumped in protest. Her hands began to tremble.

  “I’m sorry,” Olivia said. “I don’t follow. You can’t do what?”

  “I can’t get sucked into stories about Dad and some geek girl at the market and how there’s one other thing threatening to tear the two of you apart.” Her heart pounded some more, the rapid rate causing her to shift in her seat.

  This was the part where her mom put her in her place. Where Payton would back down and apologize for back-talking or downplaying her mom’s concerns, or for simply being fed up with trying to haul her parents’ baggage from one drama to the next. But not this time.

  “Seriously, Mom. You two are like quicksand. The more you try to make it work, the worse off you are. Maybe you guys should just get divorced and end it already.”

  A gasp sounded. And though Payton knew it came from her mother’s lips, the sound echoed like a lone whisper in a deep, damp cave. Regret clung to each second that passed as Payton picked up her glass, took a pull from her straw, and replayed the words she’d spoken. But she wouldn’t take it back. Couldn’t.

  “That’s …” Her mom shook her head, alligator tears forming in the corners of her eyes. “I don’t believe you of all people would say that.”

  “Yeah, I can barely believe it myself.”

  Olivia snatched her tiny beaded purse off the table and rummaged through it before tugging out a fifty-dollar bill. “I guess we’re done here.” She came to a stand, hiked the loops of the small bag up her wrist, and strode off toward the doors.

  Payton scooted her chair away from the table and sighed. Guilt took on a life of its own. Like some small, yapping dog with sharp teeth, nipping at her heels as she hurried out of the restaurant.

  Once Payton caught sight of the town car, she regretted not ordering a sandwich for Gordon. He was out of the car in no time, holding the door open for her mom to climb in. Payton followed him to the other side of the car, giving him a nod and climbing in as well.

  “Thanks, Gordon,” she said before he closed the door behind her. Payton looked down to see that the magazines she’d dropped to her feet earlier were gone. The sight had her glancing up to catch Gordon’s eye from the rearview as he settled behind the wheel.

  He gave her a distinguished nod and started up the car. Bless Gordon for being such a decent person.

  Silence dominated the drive home, but Payton didn’t mind it. There was often an imbalance between speaking versus thinking. Perhaps her mind could catch up to all that had passed between them. Had she really said that her mom and dad should just end it already? You two are like quicksand, she recalled saying. Payton couldn’t decide whether to be amused or ashamed by what she’d said.

  She set her eyes on a stretch of cattle roaming in a field of green and gold, the sight taking her back to the art hanging in the room she was staying in. A sense of freedom came over her; Payton had finally done it, hadn’t she? She’d beaten her mother at her own game. She’d actually told her mother no. No, she wasn’t going to strap on her cape and fly to the rescue.

  Wow. Luke would be proud.

  She hadn’t meant to think it, but Payton liked that she had. She liked knowing that Luke would cheer her on, celebrate her newfound desire to let others navigate through their own lives. Their own journeys. She was only in control of her ship. And the truth of that didn’t weigh her down with frustration or discouragement like it used to. It only freed her. Had her wanting to run through the open field beneath the blue sky and puffy clouds, arms stretched to either side of her as she declared her liberation with shouts of hallelujah. Perhaps one day she’d do that very thing. For now, she had to say goodbye to her mom.

  Once at the house, Gordon climbed out and walked to her mother’s side first. Olivia only shook her head. “I’m staying in here. I’d like to go back, please.”

  As Gordon circled the car, Payton unbuckled and slid close enough to her mom to force a hug on her. “I love you, Mom. I hope you and Dad can find what what’s best for you.” She scooted back toward the door as it opened. “Sorry for ignoring your calls and texts. I’m just … trying to figure out what’s best for me too.”

  “Payton?” her mom hollered after Payton stepped out. Olivia tipped down her sunglasses and looked her in the eye. “If Jason’s there, will you send him out here? I miss him. I miss you both.”

  She nodded, sensing her mother’s sincerity. “Of course.” And for the first time since leaving home, Payton missed her too.

  Chapter 24

  Luke scrolled down the digital tabloid page before him, cursing the bright screen that lit his otherwise dark office. Stolen pictures and cheap phrases. All of it minimizing the sensitive topic at hand. Payton’s fiancé had betrayed her, thrown her into a delicate state of mind just before she’d hopped a jet to Montana.

  On one end of things, Luke felt like a villain for swooping in and catching her in a weak moment. But the heavier side of the scale said things had gone just as God intended. After all, Luke hadn’t entertained his feelings until he learned the guy was out of the picture. Feelings that had developed back when he’d learned that the two weren’t even in love. Mostly, anyways.

  Heck, the truth was, Luke wasn’t free of fault himself. But something in particular had grown more bothersome over the last few days. The snide words he’d spat in irritation the night Payton burst into his room: I’m not your brother’s keeper.

  Luke had gone to enough Sunday sermons to know the heart behind being another’s keeper. Their friend, in essence. And long before Jason’s sister had shown up in a huff, determined to drag the kid home, Luke had been able to call him friend. In fact, his actions that night had more to do with being Jason’s keeper than not.

  But with Payton, it was different.

  It had started to occur to Luke that keeping wasn’t meant to be used in the technical sense. It had to do more with caring. Watching out for. Helping out when needed. And if anyone needed that now, it was Payton Keller. The woman whose fiancé cheated on her. The woman who stood to lose everything she’d worked for. The star whose image was being slandered or scrutinized on nearly every website Luke scrolled through.

  Without bothering to close his laptop, Luke wheeled his office chair away from his desk and sighed. Sure, he’d wanted to tell off Olivia Keller for trying to tear Payton away from him, but sadly, part of the woman’s concerns were valid. How long could someone run away from their own life?

  Silver moonlight spilled in, matching the white glow of his laptop in the quiet space. Lending a more colorful light was the large, crackling fire in the room beyond the French doors. Its vibrant, flickering glow reminding him of the nights he’d spent warming up to Payton.

  Jason, bless him, had packed up his things and gone to stay at Dad’s bunkhouse sooner than planned, claiming the dang chicks had been keeping him up at night, but Luke knew better. The kid was giving him and Payton the privacy they craved. And though Luke was grateful for it, he only wished he could get his thoughts off the dilemma in his head.

  Jason had done right by defending his sister when Olivia showed up. He’d held his own ground too. But chances were Jason Keller had similar concerns for Payton. Ones he might even hope Luke would address.

  A splash of gorgeous red hair caught Luke’s eye as Payton strode into the front room. He watched as she paused there, scrutinizing the chairs and couch before spinning in place.

  Through the glass, her brown eyes met his. “Hi,” she mouthed. A white, silky pajama top hung loosely around her shoulders while a pair of matching shorts showed off her curvy legs.

  It felt like someone had splas
hed a bucket of ice water against his chest, forcing his body to wake and his heart to race. “Hi,” he replied, voice cracking in the single word. He wheeled back to his laptop and forced it closed, dreading what he had to do. Luke wanted nothing more than to sink into the soft folds of the leather couch as Payton curled into him, fragrant and tempting and warm. He wanted to keep ignoring all the things she’d left behind. But at some point she had to face them. And if Luke was any sort of friend, he’d encourage that, selfish desires aside.

  Payton twisted the knob and stepped inside. “What’s up?” she asked, scents of her sweet-smelling body wash clinging to her skin.

  Before he could form a reply, she climbed onto the chair as well, positioning her legs at either side of him. The weight of Payton on his lap tore every thought from his mind. She leaned in, pressed a kiss beneath his earlobe, and then trailed her lips along his jaw in a slow tease.

  The ice Luke had felt moments ago was white hot now, shooting toward his belly as her heated breath drifted over the corner of his mouth. He groaned beneath the sudden need for her, wrapping his hands around the curve of her hips, and pulled her in for a kiss.

  Forget what he’d wanted to tell her; it could wait. All he could think of was the thrill of her lips, the silky touch of her skin, and the feel of her long fingers moving up the back of his head. She gripped a handful of hair, and Luke couldn’t help but groan again, deep and low in his chest. He kissed her again, once, twice, before forcing himself to speak up again.

  “Payton,” he whispered. The sound of her name at his lips broke the spell, pulling Luke’s focus from his wants, his needs, to hers. He pulled back, just barely, the sound of their breathing filling the quiet space. “I’ve been thinking we should … talk about something,” he said, voice harboring the hesitance he felt.

  Payton tipped her head back, allowing the moonlight to pool over her gorgeous face. “Yes?” Low seduction. There was no other way to sum up the sound of that one glorious word.

  “I, um …” He used the hold he had on her hips to gain a little more distance. As unwelcome as it was, Luke needed to clear out the fog and find a way back to his cause.

  At last it came back to him, the recollection of ignorant posts and cheesy headlines sobering him in a blink. “I want you to stay …” He cleared his throat as her gaze met his, then shifted his attention to the satin hem of her nightshirt. He captured the corner between his finger and thumb as he continued.

  “As much as I’d like you to stay—and I really, really want you to stay—I think you should consider heading back to California to …” The words clean up her family’s mess came to mind, but the phrase was all wrong. She’d done enough of that in her lifetime.

  “To what?” Her tone was still low, but the heat was gone. She climbed off before he could form an answer, taking the physical warmth of her away as well.

  The temperature in the space plummeted.

  And then came the hurt. Evident in the furrow of her brow. The twisted shape of her mouth as she brought a hand to her face.

  Luke shook his head. “Wait, wait, wait,” he pled, stumbling to his feet as well. “I care about you, Payton. A lot.”

  “But not enough …” Her sentence trailed off as she bolted toward the open door.

  “No! That’s not what I’m saying. Would you just listen to me?” He followed her out of the room, around the corner, and into the kitchen, where Payton only picked up speed, padding across the wood floors and past the sleeping chicks in the mudroom. The bedroom door slammed shut.

  “Don’t worry, Luke,” she said from the other side of the door. “I’ll be out of your hair in no time.”

  “I don’t want you out of my hair.” He turned, leaned against the wood, and slid down until he sat on the floor. “I want you to stay here with me. I’m selfish. I’ve been trying to ignore the fact that you’re ignoring everything from your life back home with your ex-fiancé, the tabloids, and your job. But I think if we stand a chance at a meaningful relationship … you’ve got to clear all that crud out of the way first.”

  The sounds of creaking footsteps came, nearing until they stopped directly behind him. “Did you just say you wanted a meaningful relationship with me?” Her voice was soft, unassuming.

  Luke glanced down the dark hallway, feeling as if it were a trick question. “Of course I do, Payton. But I don’t want to take advantage of some … weak moment you’re having, either. That moron just cheated on you and you’ve got a million other demands nagging at you, and I’m not sure I have any right to pretend none of that exists. Even if I wish it didn’t,” he mumbled.

  The pause that followed took them into the next second in a slow trudge. And then into the next minute. Luke’s heart felt like it’d been trampled by a stampede of wild horses, the organ heaving in long, reluctant thuds.

  He held his breath, stared into the blackness ahead, and prayed that he wouldn’t lose her.

  Payton stared at the handle of the door, one of the only things visible in the room, a thread of reflected moonlight streaking the length of the rustic-looking piece. Telling her mother that she did not want to come home had been nothing compared to this. Especially since she had a good reason for wanting to stay.

  But now, that same reason sat outside her door, telling her that she needed to leave after all. Luke had joined the ranks with his mother. It was rejection of the worst kind. Especially when she considered how strongly she’d come on to him in his office.

  The skies could probably count on one solar system how many times it’d seen a man turn down a woman that way. It was humiliating.

  But the fact that he wanted a relationship with her … that was toying with her in an entirely different way.

  “Payton?” he came from the other side of the door.

  She sniffed back a new onslaught of tears and figured that was enough of a reply.

  “I’m not saying that I don’t want you. I’m saying the direct opposite of that.”

  “It doesn’t feel like it,” she mumbled.

  A small rustle sounded against the wood. “I know, but that’s because we haven’t talked about any of this yet.” She could tell, from the direction his voice came, that he was sitting on the floor. “Couples,” he continued, “once they start getting serious … they should talk about where things are going and what their future looks like, right?”

  Payton nodded, not that Luke could see it. “Of course,” she said.

  “And you and I, well, things with us developed quickly, and we didn’t exactly go with the proper order of things. But the more I get to know you, the harder I’m starting to fall, and I don’t want to keep falling if you’re going to snap out of this daze and suddenly leave me behind like none of it ever happened.”

  Wow. She hadn’t tapped into this vulnerable part of him before. She liked it. “You’re afraid I’ll do that?” she asked.

  “Yes, I’m terrified that you’re going to do that. It’s made it hard for me to just let go and enjoy what’s happening between us.”

  Her mind was a whirl of information. A tornado of sorts, with dozens of wonderful truths spinning, twirling, and colliding. “It has?” She twisted the doorknob, pulled open the door, and dropped to her knees.

  “Yes,” Luke answered, reaching out and cradling her face. “I don’t know what you want to do, Payton. But if you’d like a future that might involve me, I think you’d better tie up your loose ends at home. Don’t you?”

  Excitement bubbled inside her chest. “Yes,” she said, setting her mind on the list of things she’d neglected. The buried heap of items found in her laptop and on her phone and at the top of every tabloid column. “I’m afraid you’re right.”

  Luke pulled her into his strong, solid arms, the feel of his embrace infusing her with comfort and hope. “I’ll do it,” she mumbled against the warm sleeve of his shirt. “I’ll go home and try to figure things out.”

  Chapter 25

  Luke had endured some negative self-ta
lk in his life; there was no denying it. Especially after the whole thing with Lizzy. With the help of a qualified team, he’d learned to give himself the grace he offered to others.

  But this …

  He walked along the tarmac, Payton at his side, neither saying a word. The sky was a bright crystal blue overhead, but a quick glance toward the south told him a storm was brewing. Clouds wide and deep enough to block out the sun for days rolled toward them like a wild, thunderous herd.

  Payton slowed as they approached the waiting jet, nuzzling her head against his bicep, the one she’d wrapped a hand around as they walked. She sniffed, and it felt as if Luke’s heart had just wound up beneath the trampling herd in the clouds.

  “I’m going to miss the heck out of you,” he admitted, earning himself another round of mental lashes. You’re the dummy who sent her away, Luke. What were you thinking? You’re in love with the woman, for crying out loud!

  The counseling sessions must have been working their way back, because his defenders weren’t too far behind. That’s why it had to be done.

  He couldn’t remember the last time he cried. And he wasn’t about to do it in front of Payton before she left. But he wouldn’t make it far before his suppressed emotion got the best of him; there’d be more than a rainstorm dropping moisture during his drive home.

  “I’m going to miss you too,” she said, her voice hoarse.

  Luke brought the luggage he wheeled behind him to a stand, freeing his hands, minus the oversized purse and shoulder bag he held for her. A gentleman stepped down the enfolded stairs with a polite wave.

  “Hello there, Ms. Payton.” The distinguished-looking man gave Luke a nod before taking Payton’s items from her.

  “Gordon,” Payton said, straightening. “This is Luke Branson, my … friend and Jason’s boss. This is Gordon, our family’s pilot, driver, and loyal friend.”