Dirty-Talking Cowboy--A Kinky Spurs Novel

by Stacey Kennedy

  Heaviness pressed against Shep’s shoulders, and he rubbed at the tension while he exited his truck. Before he shut the door, he grabbed his father’s file that Schultz had given to him and the two coffees out of the cup holders. Before anything else began today, he intended to review his father’s finances to see what could be done about Blackshaw Cattle. There had to be a way to save the company, maybe something his father had overlooked.

  Thoughts of his mother filled Shep’s mind while he climbed the porch steps. He needed to see her, or at least call her, or she’d know something was going on. First, though, he needed to make sure things were squared away, and she had nothing to worry about before he faced her. His mother could see right through him.

  When he entered through the black-painted front door, he was greeted by Lorraine’s warm smile. She’d been his receptionist from day one. Thirty-one years old, with a cute round face, brown, curly shoulder-length hair, and bright blue eyes, she always kept Shep organized. “Morning,” he said, moving to the reception desk, handing her the coffee. “My apologies for not being around the last few days.”

  “Please, don’t even be sorry. You haven’t missed anything at all.” Lorraine accepted the coffee and winked. “But I’ll happily accept your apologies.”

  Shep smiled, tucking a hand into the pocket of his blue jeans. “I take it that means there’s nothing pressing to deal with this morning?”

  “You’ve got some voicemails waiting for you, but they aren’t urgent,” she reported, placing the paper cup down by a photograph of her two-year-old twin boys. “I’m nearly finished up with the final details of the new contract. Looks like a group of ten will be arriving in two weeks to the day. Navy SEALs, this time.”

  “Perfect.” Shep’s team had trained everyone from the SEALs to the Rangers to a few specialized teams within police departments. And that wasn’t not only because of the Blackshaw name, but because Shep had hired three of the best survival experts in the United States, who were also retired military. “Thanks for staying on top of everything.”

  When he went to turn away, Lorraine added, “Clint Harrison has called a couple times. You might want to call him back. He seemed to be getting annoyed that I kept sending him to voicemail.”

  Shep laughed. “I’m sure he did. Thanks, Lorraine.”

  She gave her sweet smile then got back to work, focusing on her monitor.

  With thoughts of Clint on his mind, knowing that he wanted to discuss his father’s land, Shep strode down the hallway of the old farmhouse, taking a sip of his coffee. To his left was the kitchen, which was used to prepare a big breakfast on the day they headed out for their training. Their last meal, so to speak. To his right was the large meeting room that was once two bedrooms. Above him on the second floor were the barracks and bathroom that the men and women used instead of going to a hotel the night before training began. At the end of the hallway, which was once the living room, Shep entered his office. There was nothing fancy about the space. The walls were a mix between gray and brown, colors Lorraine had picked. He had a desk with a computer and a phone and a black leather chair, and two large windows overlooking the creek that ran through the Blackshaw land.

  Once he took a seat, he powered up his computer, checked his emails and voicemail, and indeed found three messages from Clint. Not much of a surprise, considering he now knew Clint wanted the land. There was no point putting off the call. He had to know what they were facing.

  He cleared his throat, grabbed the phone, and dialed the callback number in Clint’s voicemail.

  “Harrison,” was how Clint answered on the fourth ring.

  “Clint, it’s Shep Blackshaw returning your call.”

  “Shep, it’s good to hear from you.” A pause. “Listen, first, I’m so sorry to hear of your father’s passing.”

  Bullshit. If he’d been so sorry, why didn’t he attend the funeral? “Thank you for your condolences. I’m sure my mother will appreciate hearing them,” Shep carefully replied. The bad blood between the two families spanned Shep’s entire life. First, the dispute was land. Then it came down to business and money, while Clint and Rick battled to see who came out on top. “What can I do for you, Clint?”

  “Colin informed me that he spoke to you about the deal your father and I had discussed.”

  Shep gritted his teeth, trying to ignore the haughtiness in Clint’s voice. Obviously, he was thrilled that he had finally beaten Shep’s father. “He has explained the situation, yes.”

  “I thought, then, it would be appropriate for me to send over the details of our offer. Am I right in assuming you’ll be handling what happens with your father’s estate?”

  “Yes, that’s right,” Shep replied. “Go ahead and send the details to my email. Do you have it?”

  Clint paused, and when he spoke again, there was amusement in his voice. “My assistant will get that for me.”

  Shep gritted his teeth. “Give me a couple days to review everything and talk things over with the family.”

  “That’s fine,” Clint agreed. “I have no doubt that you will all find the offer to be fair, as your father did.”

  Curiosity had Shep asking, “What numbers are we talking about here?”

  “We’re looking at purchasing twenty-one hundred acres,” Clint reported. “We’ll leave the nine hundred acres of land surrounding all the houses belonging to yourself and your family, as well as your business.”

  Shep glanced down, noting his clenched fist on his desk, and hastily stretched out his fingers. “What’s your offer?”

  “Ten and half million.”

  Without knowing the market, Shep had no idea if that price was fair or not, and he’d need to make some calls, but he assumed Clint would pay the lowest amount possible. Especially if he knew Blackshaw Cattle was crumbling.

  “All right.” Shep leaned back in his seat, glancing out at the land his father cherished. “I’ll be in touch soon.”

  Another pause. “Don’t wait too long, Shep.”

  The line went dead. The arrogance of Clint always got under Shep’s skin. While he liked Megan, he didn’t know how she came from such a dickhead of a father. She didn’t possess any of the cruel traits her father did.

  Shep sighed, returning the phone to the receiver then lacing his fingers behind his head, staring out at the deep green trees, the untouched land. At one time in his life, Shep thought his father’s land was priceless. Now, with his mother’s future on the line, and the future of those who had spent their lives working for their family waiting in the balance, he realized the land wasn’t priceless anymore.

  * * *

  Restlessness had stirred Emma from her sleep bright and early. She’d finished morning feed, mucked stalls, and got the animals settled, all by nine o’clock. When she stepped out of the shower twenty minutes later, her mind wandered to what happened last night with Shep. With a towel atop her head and another around her body, she wiped the condensation off the bathroom mirror, staring into eyes she didn’t even recognize anymore. She’d never been this woman who didn’t trust a man. Hell, she’d trusted Jake completely.

  God, what had happened to her? Why was she letting Jake do this to her?

  With a sigh, she pushed the rising gloom aside and set to putting on a summer dress and applying mascara, leaving her hair damp and drying around her face. Ready to start her day, she was heading down the staircase when a knock came on the front door. She trotted down the remainder of the stairs then whisked the door open, finding a smiling Harper holding two paper cups of coffee.

  Harper shoved one at Emma. “You need to tell me everything that happened last night.”

  Emma stepped aside, letting Harper come in. “About what?”

  “When you came back inside last night after taking a break, you looked like you’d seen a ghost.” Harper kicked off her shoes then headed into the living room. Emma followed her in, and Harper continued, as if the conversation had never stopped, “I wanted to ask last night,
but we were never alone.” Concern touched her face when she sat down on the dark-brown couch and patted the seat. “Spill the beans. What happened?”

  Emma joined her on the couch, leaning against the crocheted afghan resting over the back. “There’s not much to tell, except that this woman Vicki was talking about me being the next Blackshaw woman, in a long line of women used by the Blackshaw men.”

  “That bitch!” Harper scowled.

  Emma nodded and sipped her coffee, pulling her legs up underneath her. “You could tell right away the reason she was telling me came from a vindictive jealous place, for sure.”

  Harper cocked her head, giving Emma a long look. “If you knew that, then why did it hurt you?”

  Good question. A branch tapped against the window as a breeze blew by outside. “Before I moved here,” Emma explained, “I had just gotten out of a relationship.” A sudden freeing relief washed over Emma that the words were out in the open. Now there was no more hiding Jake. No more secrets.

  Harper leaned forward, giving a soft smile, patting her leg. “Honey, I knew that the day I met you. You had heartbreak written all over you face.”

  “That is really depressing, you know?” Emma took a sip of her coffee, inhaling the nutty aroma wafting from her mug.

  Harper shifted on the couch, sitting cross-legged, the paper cup between her legs. “Believe me, you’re not alone. Someone can only see that heartbroken look if they’ve been through heartbreak themselves. But what does your past relationship have to do with last night?”

  Emma swallowed the coffee in her mouth. In this new friendship she’d found with Harper, she admitted, “With Shep, it’s so natural. He’s . . .”

  “Perfect?” Harper offered.

  Emma nodded with a laugh. “He’s perfect for me.” No one was perfect, but sometimes two people fit together in the most perfect way. “But, like last night, I remember how much I hurt before, and that happened less than a month ago. I think with Shep, it’s easy to trust him, easy to forget that I’m not ready for a relationship.”

  Harper’s expression softened, brows drawn together. “You also don’t want to stop a good thing from happening either.”

  Emma paused, emotion swelling in her chest, tightening in her throat. “I can’t be hurt again, Harper. I’m not sure I can survive it. With Jake . . . he took everything I had.”

  “You’re so strong, Emma, if you only you could see it.” Harper placed her paper cup down on the coffee table, then wrapped Emma in a warm hug. “I’m not sure what happened with Jake, but he’s an idiot to have let you go.”

  When she leaned away, Emma said, “He might be an idiot, but I still miss him. I want to hate him . . . I really do, but then I think of him and all it does is hurt.” She paused then asked a question that had been echoing in her mind. “Is a heart big enough for two men?”

  Harper held Emma’s hands. “The fact that you don’t hate Jake shows how big and warm your heart is. Think of that, Emma, and be proud that he didn’t change you.”

  Emma hadn’t really looked at it like that. Maybe she should.

  Before she could reply, there was a knock at the door. Harper released her hands and jumped up. “Shep?” she asked.

  Emma shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “Wipe that sadness off your face,” Harper said with a soft smile. “I’ll get it.”

  Emma inhaled and exhaled deeply, trying to lessen the redness of her face that she couldn’t see but sure as hell felt.

  When Harper finally reached the door, she whisked it open. Emma heard the surprise in Harper’s voice. “Oh. Um, hi, Chase.”

  Confused, Emma hurried to the door to see Chase giving Harper a very long once-over. “I wasn’t expecting you to be here.”

  Harper smiled, leaning against the doorframe. “Funny, I wasn’t expecting you to be here either.”

  He laughed with her then asked, “Is Emma home?”

  “Yeah, I’m here,” Emma said, sidling up next to Harper.

  Chase examined her face, and the furrow of his brows told her she hadn’t done anything to mask her raw emotions. “Can I have a minute?” he asked gently.

  “Um . . . yeah, sure.” Emma glanced to Harper, whose surprised eyes told Emma this seemed strange, even to Harper. “Let me grab my shoes.” She smiled.

  “Great.” Chase’s gaze then fixed on Harper. He gave her a blatantly obvious sexy grin. “Goodbye, Harper.”

  “Bye.” Harper didn’t take her eyes off him as he turned and headed down the porch steps, and her long exhale as if she’d been holding her breath was obvious. When Chase reached his truck, Harper finally turned to Emma and sputtered, “Why is he here?”

  “I have no idea.” Emma moved to the doorway and grabbed her running shoes. “But please do tell me, what in the hell was that? First Nash and Megan, and now you two have a thing?”

  “We don’t have a thing,” Harper said softly, moving to the window next to the door, staring out at him. “Chase is my brother Brody’s best friend.”

  “Oh,” Emma said.

  “Yeah, oh.” Harper smirked.

  Emma dropped onto the floor and slipped into one shoe, tying the laces. “But you like him?”

  “I can’t talk about that.”

  Emma finished the bow then frowned. “Why?”

  “Because if I talk about it, then it becomes real, and falling for my brother’s best friend is a seriously bad idea.”

  Emma finished tying the next shoe. “Wouldn’t your brother be happy if you were happy?”

  “Hahaha. That’s funny,” Harper quipped, then said seriously, “Chase would be dead before my brother had a chance to see if I was happy or not.”

  “You’re joking, right?” Emma jumped to her feet again.

  “Nope, Brody would kill him.” She shrugged. “Besides, it doesn’t matter anyway. To Chase, I’m the little girl with pigtails that would annoy the hell out of him. So, again . . . that’s a thing that should never be mentioned, okay?”

  River Rock seemed to have a lot of complications, and Emma had now become part of them. Great! She nodded. “My lips are sealed.”

  Harper smiled. “Thanks. Now go see what he wants.” She practically shoved Emma out the door, shutting the screen door behind her.

  Emma found that Chase had moved to the porch steps, sitting on the last one. She took a seat next to him. “Is everything okay?” she asked.

  Chase took his cowboy hat off, running a hand through his messy hair. “There’s something special about you.” He paused, then turned to her, expression soft, eyes examining her like he was trying to figure out what that special thing was. “Something that I know has Shep all caught up. I’m here to tell you that he won’t hurt you. The way I see it, he wants to protect you.”

  Emma’s mouth parted then shut.

  Chase chuckled softly. “Listen, I know we don’t know each other yet, and this is probably not my place, but you make Shep happy. It’s good seeing him this way, not so . . . serious.” Chase hesitated, eyebrows drawn, and after a long sigh, he added, “That’s why I came by today, because I wanted to explain that thing with Vicki last night.”

  Emma noted the tightness of his eyes, the shame almost.

  “Vicki is mad,” he said.

  “Mad?”

  “Yeah, furious, really.” Chase nodded, unable to meet Emma’s gaze. “She’s pissed at me.”

  “Okay, why?”

  “Because . . .” He paused, then finally heaved another long sigh, straightening his shoulders. “I slept with her a good five months ago, and perhaps I didn’t reciprocate the feelings for her that she had for me, and maybe I didn’t handle the whole situation in the best of ways.”

  Emma couldn’t stop the widening of her eyes. “You slept with her?”

  “Hrmph.”

  That didn’t make any sense. “I thought from the way she was talking last night that Shep had been with her.”

  “That’s because she’s angry enough to lump all o
f us Blackshaws into one category: asshole.”

  Emma glanced out, seeing the goats jumping around in the field, being their silly selves. She tried to catch up, focusing back on Chase. “Did Shep talk to you about what happened last night?”

  Chase shook his head.

  “Then how did you know about any of this?”

  “Because I saw how upset you were after Vicki talked to you.”

  Emma rolled her eyes, smacking her hand against her forehead. “Seriously, I really need to stop showing emotions on my face.”

  “Nah,” Chase said with a sweet smile, placing his cowboy hat back on. “You’re good.” He rose and turned to her. “Anyway, I thought it right I came by and explained what happened with Vicki. The blame is mine, not Shep’s.”

  Emma watched Chase move to his truck and called out, “Why wouldn’t Shep explain all that to me last night?”

  Chase glanced over his shoulder. “Because he wouldn’t have thrown me under the bus all to make himself look better. That’s not my brother.” Chase smiled again, and the love and admiration he had for Shep showed all over his face. “But I imagine you already know that about him, don’t you?” Chase moved to his truck, got in, tipped his hat at her, and drove off, leaving her with that single question swirling in her mind.

  Truth was, she hadn’t known he was that loyal, but she did now.

  * * *

  Shep had intended to be at Emma’s by now. Life, though, seemed to have other ideas. On top of the responsibilities pilling up on his shoulders, he now added annoyance at himself for how he handled her last night. He had let his irritation get the better of him and left her, instead of staying with her, kissing her until those insecurities of hers vanished. But as the day dragged on and reality hit him, there was one place he needed to go first.