A Cowboy Like You

by Donna Grant

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  Table of Contents

  About the Author

  Copyright Page

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  To all the men and women who protect our streets and cities—Thank You!

  This book is for all of you, for protecting us, for putting your lives on the line each and every day.

  Acknowledgments

  A very special thanks to everyone at SMP for this book—from the art department, to marketing, to publicity, to production. I’d also like to thank Mara Delgado-Sanchez for being such a big help for so many things. It goes without saying that a shout-out is directed to my editor, Monique Patterson.

  More thanks to my agent, Natanya Wheeler, who is always so supportive in whatever direction I happen to be headed in.

  A special thanks to Scott Silveri for answering my many questions regarding sheriffs and their roles.

  As always, thanks to my children. And to G.

  Hats off to my incredible readers who have fallen for my cowboys!

  Chapter 1

  December 2nd

  Another long, exhausting day. Danny blew out a breath as he unlocked the door and walked inside his silent, dark house. He tossed the keys onto the counter, the sound cracking loudly in the quiet, and then stood in the kitchen without turning on the lights.

  For several minutes, he listened to the stillness of his house. He generally tried not to notice it, but it was so loud that it was the only thing he could hear—even when he turned on music or the TV.

  By this time in his life, he’d thought he’d have a wife and, if he were lucky, perhaps a kid or two. Instead, he was alone. Though it was hard to be anything but alone when he didn’t ask anyone out on a date.

  Normally, he told people that being sheriff took up too much of his time. It was a line of bullshit, but everyone seemed to accept the lie. Or maybe they didn’t and just didn’t want to press. Honestly, he couldn’t care less. He’d prefer if people kept their noses out of his business.

  He flipped on the lights and sighed again before he took off his hat to hang it on the peg near the door. He then walked through the kitchen to his bedroom, where he stopped beside his nightstand and removed his gun along with the shield that designated him as sheriff. Only then did he remove his jeans and the tan shirt with the county insignia on it.

  Once he was in a pair of well-worn sweatpants that probably needed to be tossed in the garbage and a black tee, he returned to the kitchen and opened the fridge. He’d hoped to find something edible, but he soon realized that it had been over a week since he had bought groceries.

  The only thing fit for consumption were the eggs. It would be easier to just jump in his truck and go get something, but he was so tired of eating out.

  “Makes my decision on dinner easy,” Danny mumbled to himself as he pulled out the carton.

  He turned on some music to try to fill the void as he prepared to cook. He didn’t want the eggs. In fact, he didn’t want anything, but he needed food in his stomach before he reached for the bourbon sitting just to his left.

  The funny thing was that he’d never been much of a drinker in high school or college. He’d had a beer or two here and there, but that was it. It wasn’t until years later, working as a sheriff’s deputy, that he found solace in alcohol and used it to help him cope—first, with the horrific crimes he saw, and secondly, the loneliness.

  Danny didn’t bother to sit. He ate the eggs standing up while listening to the radio. As soon as a Christmas song came on, he reached over and flicked off the device.

  Christmas used to be his favorite time of year. Then he went into law enforcement. The worst crimes seemed to happen from Thanksgiving through New Year’s, and each year it grew more and more difficult to deal with.

  It was the first week of December, and already he’d had to deal with a suicide, a half-dozen domestic calls, and issue an Amber Alert for a one-year-old who had been kidnapped by her father because it wasn’t the dad’s year to have custody of her at Thanksgiving.

  As soon as the meal was finished, he washed and dried his plate, fork, and pan, and then poured his first shot of bourbon. He used to try to take notice of how much he drank each night, but then he stopped caring.

  He never got drunk. Just had enough to help him get to sleep without seeing the horrors of his job. The only problem was, it took more liquor to accomplish that each month. It was a good thing he lived alone, because if he didn’t, he was sure that someone would step in and call him on just how much alcohol he consumed each night.

  Danny kept his blinds closed so no one could see in. As an elected official, there was always someone out there trying to get dirt on him. Another reason he didn’t date. It was just too damned complicated.

  He downed his shot and decided to fill the glass with a double. Then he pushed the nearly empty bottle away and walked into the living area.

  It was a sad room. The TV was rarely on. The leather sofa was six years old but looked brand new since he never sat in it. The only reason the place wasn’t coated with inches of dust was because his aunt cleaned the house every other week. She was getting on in years, though, and he didn’t feel right having her clean for him. She claimed she loved it and didn’t need compensation, but after several fights, she’d finally relented to letting him pay her.

  She always brought food over for him, too. She was a great cook, so he wasn’t going to turn down anything she made. Danny was grateful that she never mentioned his bare fridge or pantry. The fact that she brought him meals said it all.

  He walked to the window and separated two slats of the blinds to peer into the darkness. The houses were lit up with various colored lights and yard decorations. But not his. Not one Christmas decoration could be found anywhere—inside or out.

  In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d put up a tree. Why should he, when he was rarely home to enjoy it? It was just more work to put something up, only to take it down. It was easier to skip it altogether.

  Danny looked down at the glass in his hand and the double shot he’d poured. He set the tumbler aside and walked to his bedroom. But once there, he didn’t know what to do. It was too early to sleep, and lying in bed staring at the ceiling was something he saved for when he woke in the middle of the night. No use doing that now.

  “Well, fuck,” he murmured.

  His stomach grumbled then. He winced because he knew he needed more food. Danny thought back over the day. He had stopped at the bakery to get breakfast but never managed to order anything because he had to intervene in a fight between two women who were arguing over the last blueberry donut.

  Then, when he tried to leave to get some lunch, he’d ended up in a meeting with the local police chief, Ryan Wells, about a joint task force. By the time that was over, Danny hadn’t been able to get away to get anything to eat. No wonder he was hungry.

  But the thought of more eggs made his stomach turn.

  He changed out of his sweats into another pair of jeans before slipping on his boots. After grabbing his coat, he slid his gun into the holste
r on his belt and put on his hat before he walked out of the house.

  Just as he was shifting his truck into reverse, his phone rang. He was going to ignore it, but he glanced at the caller ID and saw his friend’s name.

  There was a genuine smile on his face when he answered. “Hey, Clayton.”

  Clayton East was one of the richest people in the county and owned a massive cattle ranch, but he was also one of the nicest men you could ever meet. Then Clayton went and married Abby Harper, who Danny had graduated with.

  The moment Danny thought of his younger years, his memories turned to the girl he’d had a crush on. The one he’d never asked out. The one he still, to this day, thought about.

  Was it still a crush all these years later? Maybe Danny should move on. Holding onto something that could never be wasn’t healthy.

  “Wanted to see what you were up to,” Clayton said, the noise from others in the background coming through the phone. “Abby’s been baking all day with the kids, and we’re drowning in Christmas cookies. Brice, Naomi, Caleb, and Audrey are here, as well. Me and the boys have been on the grill cooking dinner. Thought you might want to join us.”

  The fact that Clayton invited him meant a lot to Danny. It was an invitation he got about once a month, and he usually accepted. There was something great about sitting at that huge table with Clayton and Abby, along with Abby’s two younger brothers and their wives.

  But Danny wasn’t up for it tonight. He couldn’t explain it, but he wanted to be alone. Which was stupid, because it was the loneliness that caused him to drink. This was different, though. He was in a funky mood, and the others would likely see and comment. Danny didn’t want to lie, and he certainly didn’t want to explain. It was better if he remained by himself.

  “Sounds like a feast,” Danny said with a chuckle.

  Clayton laughed. “You know us. We can’t fix a small meal, not when there are so many mouths to feed. My children are healthy eaters as well, so if there isn’t enough, I’ll have a mutiny on my hands. And I’m pretty sure Jace and Cooper will find their way over soon.”

  Danny shook his head and grinned because he knew that Caleb and Brice’s friends would definitely be there. While not blood-related, Jace and Cooper were part of the East/Harper family simply because they were always around.

  “I need to take a raincheck,” Danny told him.

  There was a beat of silence. “You good?”

  It was Clayton’s way of asking if he needed to be concerned. Many answers filled Danny’s head, but in the end, he decided to go with honesty. “I’m making it.”

  The noise faded, and Danny knew Clayton most likely went into his office for some privacy. Then Clayton said, “I realize this time of year is hard. You know we’re here for you, right?”

  “I know.”

  “You can come over anytime. You don’t need an invitation. You’re family, Danny.”

  “I know, and I appreciate that. Truly.”

  Clayton went on as if Danny hadn’t spoken. “You can take one of the horses for a ride. Hell, no doubt my kiddos will tackle you as soon as they see you. They adore you. And then there’s Abby. She’ll talk your ear off. And if none of that suits you, come out with me while I work. You can sit and do nothing.”

  “Thank you. I’ll be sure and do that.”

  “You better,” Clayton stated in a soft voice.

  “I will,” Danny promised.

  They hung up, and Danny pulled out of his driveway and onto the road to head into town. He didn’t intend to dine in anywhere, just swing by and get something. He wasn’t in the mood to talk. It’s what he did all day. But then again, his only other choice was to go back to an empty house.

  After grabbing some grilled fish from a favorite restaurant, Danny decided to eat in his truck. He drove to the rest stop just outside of town, which also happened to have one of the best views around, and parked.

  He turned on his favorite station and pulled out his food. It wasn’t the first time he’d used the destination as a place to eat, and it wouldn’t be his last. At least here, he wasn’t at home, but he also wasn’t in a restaurant with people who constantly wanted to talk to him about some issue or another.

  It really was a conundrum. He loved his job, and that meant dealing with all the nuances that came with it.

  He was nearly finished with his meal when a sleek red sports car pulled into a parking space four spots down. Danny craned his head to see the badge of the car since there wasn’t another like it around.

  “Alfa Romeo,” he said to himself.

  Curious, he looked it up on his phone and discovered that it was a 4C Spider. After perusing the details on the website, his attention turned back to the car.

  The vehicle was still running but parked. No one had exited yet. The cop in him looked for signs of any movement inside, in case there was an argument that might escalate to physical violence, but he saw nothing.

  Just a few minutes later, another set of headlights brightened the area as someone else pulled into the rest stop. Danny frowned. While the highway was nearly always busy, the rest stop didn’t usually get a lot of attention.

  The moment the headlights appeared, the driver of the sports car shut off the engine. It could all be just a coincidence, but Danny knew from experience that that was rarely the case.

  He closed the food container and set it on the passenger seat. Then he made sure to have the station number ready to call as the new arrival—a white Audi—parked next to the Alfa Romeo, blocking Danny’s view of the sports car.

  The driver’s side door of the Audi opened, and a man exited. He glanced over at Danny, but since his car was turned off and his windows were tinted, the man could see nothing in the dark of night. The stranger shifted his attention to the sports car, staring at it for a long minute.

  Danny thought the man might be admiring it since it was a nice-looking car. But that thought shattered the moment the man slammed his hand on the hood of the vehicle before slowly walking to stand in front of it.

  “You know better than to run from me,” the man said in a cold, violent voice.

  Danny had seen enough physical disputes to know what was about to happen. He dialed the station and let them know where he was, what was happening, and to send a deputy immediately. Then he withdrew the weapon he always wore on his hip and slowly opened his door to slip out.

  Chapter 2

  She had the worst taste in men.

  Skylar’s heart pounded as she stared through the windshield at Matt, the guy she’d made the mistake of not only dating but also living with for the past three months.

  “I said, get out.”

  He didn’t yell. He didn’t need to. Skylar knew what that tone meant—and it wasn’t good. When she didn’t move, he slammed his fist onto her hood. She saw the dent, but she didn’t care. That could be hammered out. Another broken bone wouldn’t be fixed so easily.

  She’d dated Matt for nine months before moving in with him, trying to make sure she knew everything about him. Not once had he shown such aggression. Not until she was in his house, that is. Once she was there, he seemingly changed overnight.

  Sadly, this wasn’t the first time she’d tried to leave. But this had been the one time that she actually thought she might get away.

  “Skylar,” Matt said through clenched teeth, his anger palpable.

  She briefly thought about starting the car and running him over, but despite the pain he’d inflicted on her, she would never be able to live with herself if she killed him.

  But what other option did she have? If she got out of the car, he’d take her back to their house. No doubt he’d dole out his particular brand of emotional and verbal abuse here, but when they were behind the walls of his house, he would level his fists on her.

  He never hit her in the face. Never left a mark that could be seen unless she was naked. He kept his blows to spots that could be hidden by her clothes. He was smart that way.

  “You know
better than to get me this angry,” Matt said as he walked around to her door. “You know what happens next.”

  Yes, she did. She tried to reach for her purse where she kept her gun, but the window broke, glass raining down all around her. She screamed in surprise, even as she valiantly tried to get her weapon, only to wince as Matt’s hands tangled in her hair and yanked her backward.

  “You’re mine, Skylar,” he whispered in her ear as he tried to drag her through the broken car window.

  Her eyes locked on her purse as she reached back to try and relieve some of the pain of the pulled hair on her scalp. If only she’d managed to wrap her fingers around the pistol. She’d had her concealed carry license for years, but Matt had such an aversion to guns that he’d asked her to get rid of it before moving in with him. She’d stupidly acquiesced.

  The first thing she’d done on her way out of Houston was to stop by her friend’s house and buy back the weapon. Skylar didn’t want to shoot Matt any more than she wanted to run him over, but she wasn’t going back with him.

  Ever.

  Suddenly, a booming voice broke the silence. “Freeze. Hands in the air.”

  Skylar’s gaze jerked to the side to see a silhouette of a man with a gun pointed at Matt. She couldn’t make out the man’s face since his cowboy hat shadowed his features, even with the many lights in the rest area.

  Matt released her and raised his hands, but his gaze never left Skylar. She sank back into her seat and rubbed her sore head while glaring at Matt.

  “It’s just a little disagreement between me and my girlfriend, officer,” Matt said.

  “Sheriff,” the man corrected him. “I heard—and saw—enough to know it’s much more than just a little disagreement. You threatened her, and you assaulted her.”

  Matt’s lips turned up in a confident smile that he showed Skylar before he wiped it from his face as he turned to the sheriff. “You’re right. This is much more than a disagreement. She stole something of mine.”