“I’m turning thirty soon.” Jonah was tired. Worn out. In the exact place Emily had been on her birthday. Looking around, he wanted more. “I can’t do kiddie stuff much longer.”
“If that’s your way of saying you want out of the teen sitcom business permanently, we’ll have to rethink our business relationship.” Maury’s words caused a ringing in Jonah’s ears.
“You’re dropping me?” He’d represented Jonah for years.
“Jonah, I’m a hustler. I move fast and make deals. But even I can’t make deals to bring an organ grinder onto Broadway. I can’t sell this Western with your name on it.”
“I’m a Monroe.” That ought to count for something.
“And someday you’ll probably run Monroe Studios.” Maury didn’t sound happy about it. “Stick to your strengths. I can sell your strengths.”
Two decent scripts were on his computer, but they were personal stories, practice scripts.
Jonah didn’t say a word. It was one thing to write about family antics for television sitcoms. It was another to write a theatrical movie about a love you’d lost and a woman you cared for.
“I know you, Jonah. Silence means you’re holding back the good stuff. Tell me.” When Jonah didn’t, his agent repeated himself. “Tell me. Tell me. Tell me. What have you got hidden under your bed that isn’t a Western?” Under your bed meaning manuscripts shelved for one reason or another.
“Two adult romances.” Jonah hung his head. “One’s a rom-com and doesn’t have the third act.”
“And everyone is over the age of eighteen?”
“Yes.”
“A stretch from teen comedy to young adult is believable. Give me treatments or pages if you’ve got them. I’ll expect them in my inbox first thing in the morning.” Sounding positively gleeful, Maury hung up.
Jonah sat down at the table, laid his hands on his laptop and faced facts. He needed a sure thing to dig himself out of the teenage sitcom hole. Mike Moody was too big of a gamble.
He didn’t move. He could barely breathe. He couldn’t stand to be thought of as a teen writer anymore. He could send in what he had just to see if there was any interest. It would be validating if there was any. He didn’t have to sell them.
He had to do something.
Because he couldn’t go down with the stink.
* * *
“I’M GONNA DO your hair and you’ve got to smile the entire time.” Emily stood behind Tina in the downstairs bathroom after the hay had been stacked and the invoice signed for. “And keep the conversation going.”
“Sure.” Tina checked her phone.
“No. No phones.” Em swiped it from Tina and slipped it in her back pocket. “You can’t have your phone while you’re competing.”
“I knew that,” Tina mumbled, still looking like she’d been put in time-out.
“Smile and make small talk.” Em took a brush to Tina’s thick dark hair. “Seriously, smile and make small talk, starting now.”
Adam squirmed into the bathroom. “What are we doing?”
“Seeing how long we can smile.” Em took the upper half of Tina’s hair and twisted it, puffing it high over her head.
“Is this a race?” Adam sat on the rim of the tub and bared his teeth. “When do we start?”
“We should’ve started two minutes ago.” Emily caught Tina’s eye in the mirror. “That’s not a rodeo queen smile.” It was more like a grimace. Em demonstrated the carefree, you-can’t-bring-me-down smile the judges were looking for.
Tina smiled, but now she looked like she was posing for her school pictures in a blouse she hated.
“Work on that smile and make small talk.” Em put the brush handle between her teeth and used her free hand to grab a hair clip.
When she was done, Tina’s hair looked like an Elvis pompadour. Not exactly winning rodeo queen style. Em had to find two hairstyles that complemented Tina’s features and then teach her how to do them herself. Part of the competition was based on presenting yourself as put together by yourself.
“She’s smiling,” Adam said, grinning for all he was worth. “Not like me. I’m smiling and I could smile all day.”
“Should I wave, too?” Tina cupped her hand and gave a queen’s wave. She winked at Adam. “That’s what queens do, right? Smile and wave.”
“Time-out.” Emily shook Tina’s hair free and set the hairbrush on the counter. “Everyone stop smiling.”
“What’s not so funny?” Jonah appeared behind Em, his head visible above hers in the mirror. He looked in need of a smile. “Why aren’t we smiling? Everyone should be smiling all the time.”
Especially Jonah.
“Let me explain about smiling,” Emily began, trying not to worry about Jonah’s lack of smile.
“There is no explaining about smiling.” Jonah edged inside the room to stand between Emily and Adam. “Babies smile. It’s natural. You don’t need to explain.”
Emily reached up and pressed her palm over Jonah’s mouth. Didn’t matter that it created a strong desire to kiss him. Didn’t matter that his eyes blazed to life and he smiled against her palm. He’d set her up with Bo. She was moving on. Now if only her heart would get with the program. “For the next minute, the rodeo queen has the stage. Agreed?”
Jonah nodded.
Adam giggled.
Tina grinned.
“Now.” Emily removed her hand from the attractive ginger and reclaimed the floor. “From the moment a rodeo queen candidate enters the rodeo grounds, she’ll be watched by judges. Everything a candidate says or does is under scrutiny, which means you always have to smile genuinely, like you are the kindest, happiest person on earth and you have to be the kindest, happiest person on earth to other candidates. Like Madison.”
“Uh-oh.” Tina stopped smiling.
“I asked you to find something you like about Madison.” Emily retrieved the hairbrush and began sectioning off Tina’s hair in a different style. “Tell me something you admire or respect about her.”
“Shouldn’t she be smiling while she’s doing this?” Jonah asked.
“Yes.” Em handed the hairbrush to him and began braiding Tina’s hair in a soft, romantic side braid.
Tina drew a deep breath, smiled like she was happy, and said, “Madison, I’ve always admired your accent in Spanish class.” She glanced at Adam. “She can really roll her r’s and t’s.”
“I sense sarcasm.” Jonah twirled the hairbrush in his hand. “And I’m the cynical voice in the room.”
“He’s right.” Em hated to agree with him, but Tina had to learn. “I want you to start talking nonstop to Adam minus the sass and never drop that warm smile.”
“Nobody told me this was going to be so difficult.” Tina rolled her eyes.
“I believe someone did.” Em paused in her braiding. “Madison said you’d never win.”
Tina narrowed her green eyes.
Jonah nodded, seemingly in approval. “Revenge is best served cold. And it makes for great character motivation. Imagine the look on Madison’s face when you win the crown.”
Tina smiled.
“Much better,” Em said. “Now we need to see how long you can keep that up and talk like the kind, loving person you are about any person and any topic.”
“I bet I can beat her.” Adam had his grin back on. “’Cuz I don’t hate anyone.”
“But, Adam...” Tina had a beauty of a smile. “I don’t have a mean bone in my body. Why, just the other day when Madison said my shoes reminded her of her grandmother, I just smiled and said thank you.”
“This Madison is mean.” Jonah set the hairbrush back on the counter. “But my snarky meter is going off, Tina.”
“Being nice is harder than it looks.” Adam’s head jerked to the side as if he was Bolt listening for an intruder, and then he gasped. “So
meone opened a bag of chips.” He raced out of the bathroom.
“How on earth did you win the crown, Aunty Em?” Jonah took Adam’s place on the rim of the bathtub. “You’re nearly as jaded as I am.”
“I was an innocent back then,” Em said loftily, using a decorated band to fasten the end of Tina’s braid. “And I channeled my grandmother, who rarely has a bad word to say about anyone.” She checked out Tina’s reflection in the mirror. The asymmetrical style gave some length and definition to Tina’s round features. “And I killed the other contestants with kindness.” Emily pitched her voice high. “Madison, those chaps are fabulous. Madison, that eyeshadow brings out the highlights in your hair. Madison, I’ve never seen such an even coat of glitter on a horse.”
“Whoa.” Jonah leaned back and nearly fell into the bathtub. “Rodeo queens put glitter on their horses?”
“Yes, sir. Thicker than mascara.” Tina continued to smile the happiest of smiles. “My mom bought a huge tub of glitter. We practiced making Button sparkly the other day. Hoof polish. Glitter. Hairspray on his mane and tail. Glitter. I think he knew how handsome he looked, because he high-stepped around the pasture.”
Em realized none of the rodeo queen contestants she’d seen the past few years braided their hair. It was all ringlets and teased ponies. She undid the braid and then reached for the hairbrush. “And when you win, you’ll get a butt bouquet placed behind Button’s saddle every time you ride in a parade.”
“Those are the most ridiculous things,” Tina said, although with a big smile and without any cheek. “I’ve seen pictures of some that are taller than the queen in the saddle.”
“There’s a story here.” Jonah rubbed a spot over his heart. “I can feel it.”
“Oh, watch out, Mr. Gritty-Gory Western Writer,” Em teased. “That sounds like rom-com material.”
“We’ll see.” Sobering, Jonah left them to their hair devices. “We’ll see.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
JONAH WAS NOWHERE to be seen when Bo pulled into the ranch yard to take Emily to dinner.
Emily wore the casual blouse, slim-fitting jeans and suede booties from Ketchum.
The light in the bunkhouse was on. Jonah was burning a candle at both ends, writing. Always writing. She hoped he was eating well. She’d looked up the effects of Crohn’s disease and had a newfound respect for Jonah’s culinary regimen. Diet was the best way to avoid a flare-up.
“Are you gonna marry this one?” Adam stared out the window at Bo, wiping at his upper lip which was red from drinking punch. “Charlie says he’s scary big.”
“Everybody’s getting married.” Charlie joined him in the living room and collapsed on the couch. “We’re gonna need a bigger house.”
“That’s not the Monroe she likes,” Davey called from the kitchen.
“I’m just going to dinner, not to the marriage altar, boys.” Emily grabbed her jean jacket, cheeks heating. She opened the door before Bo could knock.
His smile was grim. “Yes, just dinner.”
How much of their exchange had he heard?
Emily wanted to sink into the floor.
Adam ran to her side and shook Bo’s hand. “My new daddy says this is how we meet new people.”
“Howdy.” The burly cowboy shook her nephew’s hand with a straight face. “Shane knows how to make friends and influence people.”
Adam glanced toward the living room. “You’re wrong, Charlie. He’s big but he’s not so scary.” He ran to the kitchen.
Cringing, Em made her escape out the door. “Sorry about that.”
“No worries.”
They walked in silence across the gravel drive to Bo’s truck. He opened the passenger door for her and then made sure Emily was settled before closing it.
Manners. Check.
His truck had every modern convenience known to man, and then some. There were cup holders everywhere—dash, center console, door panel. Heaven forbid the occupants were without coffee, soda or water—all at the same time. There were air conditioner vents that blew on her face and on the back of her neck. Emily ran her hands over the supple leather seat and admired the computer display in the dash.
Money independent of mine. Check.
She hadn’t realized she had additional prerequisites when it came to eligible bachelors.
Bo pressed a button and then told the truck’s computer to play country hits. Music surrounded them.
A country fan. Check.
“I feel like I’m in the cockpit of a luxury airliner,” Em admitted, although she still couldn’t look at Bo directly.
“I suppose all this gadgetry keeps me in touch with the world.”
“I’m happy just to keep in touch with my family and most of Second Chance.” The seats were large, and sitting there next to him, Emily felt small for once.
This is how it should be with a man. He should make me feel delicate. Check.
Emily was suddenly struck with the thought that she didn’t know how Jonah would rank according to these new criteria. He was taller than she was, but she probably weighed the same as him. Was that a check? He’d arrived in town in Bo’s truck. She didn’t even know what kind of vehicle he drove or what kind of music he listened to.
They rounded the last corner of the drive and passed the lake camp as they neared the cattle guard at the Bucking Bull’s main gate. “How much more needs to be done on those cabins?”
“Staging.” He slowed as they drove past. The truck barely bounced over the cattle guard grate on their way to the highway.
Bo headed toward town. Emily had expected their conversation to be a bit stilted. It was a first date, after all, plus she had a suspicion that Jonah had put Bo up to it. But they drove a few miles without saying anything. Anything.
Finally, staring straight ahead, she asked, “What is it you do? Or should I ask what you did for your family before...” He and his siblings and cousins had all been fired. Everyone in town knew that.
“When I was a kid, the plan was for me to manage the Monroe ranch in Texas, just like the plan was for Jonah to run Monroe Studios. Both are big. Our ranch is over three thousand acres.”
That made the Bucking Bull’s three hundred acres look like a hobby ranch.
“I didn’t spend enough time there to become more than a good rider. Certainly not a ranch manager. I studied petroleum engineering in college. After graduation I ran our oil rig operations in the gulf.”
An engineer? She’d barely passed biology in high school. And algebra had been a headache. But she had to say something or he’d ask her about her nonexistent college career. “I’m beginning to understand why you can’t just sit back and take a vacation while you’re in town. You’re used to a fast-paced workday.”
“As are you.”
Not hardly. “My day’s a bit more predictable and slower paced. I’m out riding a lot, making sure fences are up and the cattle look well.”
“You have the freedom of making your own schedule.”
“I would if Franny wasn’t my boss. She divvies up the workload.” Although at this point, Em rarely needed to be told what to do.
Bo parked in front of the Bent Nickel. She jumped down as soon as he’d shut the engine off.
“I would’ve come around and helped you down.” Bo opened the diner door for her.
“Oh, right. I forgot.”
There were a few locals having dinner and a family that Emily didn’t recognize occupying the corner booth. Ivy waved from behind the counter, where she was teaching her youngest how to fill saltshakers.
Em was blowing this. It was her big opportunity with Bo and she wasn’t letting him treat her like a lady. But if she did that, he might do something that would make her freeze, like hold her hand while she climbed out of his truck or smile at her. “I’m kind of used to just charging in here to pick
up my nephews.”
“I like that you’re independent.”
So much for Jonah’s assessment that she needed to act like a damsel in distress. Em risked a glance at her date.
Bo was smiling at her, a genuine smile. It reached his dark eyes.
He likes me.
She didn’t feel the anticipated thrill of victory.
Because he’s not Jonah.
Emily sat down too fast in the booth.
“You okay?” Bo reached for her arm.
He was so darn polite. Jonah would’ve teased her about losing her balance. Jonah had manners. They just weren’t the same manners Bo exhibited. Jonah didn’t open doors for her. He didn’t make sure she was safely seated before he sat down. He cut her off midsentence, sometimes to change the subject before she was finished with the topic. It should have been annoying, but he made her feel alive.
“This is wrong.” Emily shook her head. She was right where she’d wanted to be for nearly two months and suddenly... “It can’t be.”
She didn’t want to be here with Mr. Bodilicious.
She wanted to be back at the ranch, ribbing Jonah about his rabbit food and arguing over Merciless Mike Moody and his tough sister, Letty.
I miss Jonah.
Emily stared at the green booth seat cushion beneath her. She’d shoved over toward the wall as if making room for one more. For Jonah.
I thought I was getting over my infatuation with him.
He’s so bossy, so loud, so darn...caring.
Emily rolled her eyes, wanting to deny it. But it was true. He cared about his extended family. He cared about her family. He might even care about her.
Or he could just consider her a source of amusement. He certainly laughed a lot during their conversations.
She did, too.
The need to be with Jonah became an ache in her chest. She rubbed her breastbone and forced herself to stare at Bo, at his chiseled, handsome face. Those dark eyes that didn’t look for a weakness. That fantastic dark hair that was blue-black in the right light.
Enchanted by the Rodeo Queen--A Clean Romance Page 18
