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Authors: Anne Carrole

Falling For A Cowboy (17 page)

BOOK: Falling For A Cowboy
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He turned the faucet to cold.

Chapter
Seven

 

Awkward as the morning had been,
Clay had
insisted on
tak
ing
her to breakfast at the B
uttercup
Café
. He

d kept the conversation light, had
asked her a lot of questions about
Sweet Water Ranch
, and then they

d gone
their separate ways
. Though he

d
promis
ed
to stop by
the beer stand
after his ride,
she

d told him he shouldn

t feel obligated
.
She

d had mixed feelings all day about whether she wanted him to stop by or not
.
Life would be emptier if he didn

t, more
complicated
if he did.

She hadn

t expected to lament
the
decision
she

d made
last night
.
After all, she

d taken the high road, as it were
.
But in the parking lot after breakfast, when she watched him walk away
,
she

d never felt more alone. Regret over what she

d
missed
wore on her
all day
.

At the arena, s
he

d
listened to every word as
Adam
Greene
, the
announcer
,
said
Clay

s
name and called the ride
.
Her heart had been in her throat, the old fear gripping her tight as she listened to the
commentary
and tried to
decipher
the sounds of the crowd
.

When the thunderous roar had drown
ed
out
Adam

s
voiceover
,
she

d
kn
o
w
n
something good had
happened
.
She

d let out the breath she

d been holding and scrambled to the opening just in time to see him dust his hat against his
jean-clad
leg and hold up a hand
to shade his eyes
.
H
e
searched the
rim
and
,
even from a distance
,
she could tell when he saw her
.
He gave an extra hat wave
to her
before settling it on his head.
He

d just scored an arena record-breaking ninety-one on a
bronc
named Contrary Mary
. Her stomach
had
tied in knots.

A half-hour later
, the Saturday evening
crowd had emptied the stands and was
heading past her
for their cars. Kids clung to the hands of
their
parents and tried to keep
pace
.
Older people walked near the arena wall as if it would hold them up should they need it.

Clay stood before her, hands
fisted
on
his
hip
s
.

So…
Doug Morgan
?
He wouldn

t be your father would he?

She handed him a drink
, her pulse beating a
tattoo
.
It was o
n the house
.
Big
John

s rules.
Any record
-
breaker g
ot
a free be
e
r
.
Clay

s lips sipped the brew, lips that had held her captive only last night
.

Rico
had already shuttered his booth
though t
he heavy odor of fried
grease
still hung in the air. S
he began to empty the register

s contents into the green zippered bag
.
Anything to keep busy.


I asked you a question
.

H
is voice
grated like
rocks tumbling in a
rolli
ng wheel.


Yes,

s
he said
,
the sound
more clipped than she

d
intended
.
She didn

t
want
to discuss her father, or the
score
,
or
Clay

s
besting it
,
but from the look in his eye
,
she doubted she

d get her wish.
She slammed the cash drawer shut and tucked the bag in the waistband of her jeans
.


Your father was
the
saddle
bronc
rider?

There was incredulity in his
tone
.

She nodded.
Grabbing a damp rag, she began to
wipe down the counter.

He pushed back his hat and stood, feet apart, staring at her like she

d grown two heads
.


I

m sorry
,
then
,
that I broke his record
, Dusty
.

His voice
had gone
soft.


I

m not.

And that was the truth
.

The day he set that record was the day he decided to rodeo for
a living
,

she said scrubbing at a non-existent stain
.

He was on the road to the NFR
for the next twelve years.

She
threw the rag under the counter
and took a deep breath
.
Clay wasn

t her father and he

d done nothing wrong.
Heck, she wasn

t sure
,
anymore
,
that her father had.
Stepping around to the outside of the stand, she brushed by
him
and reached for
a
metal
handle. The edge of the security grate hit the counter with a
cl
ang
.
She fumbled in her pocket for the key.


Y
ou
had
issues with your daddy
rodeoing
?
Is that why you

ve been
walling
me
out
?

She locked the stand and faced him.

I haven

t been
walling you out
.

Not much.


Hell you haven

t. You

d think you

d have told me your daddy was a
bronc
rider.


Why? Wh
y
would it matter to you
?
And he rode bulls too
.
Hell, he rode whatever moved if he thought
he
could make some money.


I think the information would be of interest to the
bronc
rider who

s courting you.

He emptied the cup and threw it in the nearby trash.

She blinked.
Her heart thudded loud against her chest.

Courting me? You

re courting me?


Jesse said I wouldn

t be good at it and I must not be if you don

t even know that

s what I

ve
been trying to do.

He flung his hands out as if he was exasperated.

Despite your thinking all I want is
to
get in your pants, which I
wo
n

t deny, I

ve
also
been trying to court you
.
You know,
get to know you
.
Like a normal guy.

She couldn

t help
the
smile.
It was such an old-fashioned way to say it.

A few stragglers wandered
past
on their way to the parking lot
, the
i
r voices echoing in the walkway
.
She just had to drop the money off at Big
John

s and she was done for the night.
And Clay
c
ould be
well
on his way
back home
.
The thought wasn

t a happy one
.
The way her heart jerked and her pulse sped up and her hands went all sweaty around him, maybe she

d already fallen for him
.


Now that you broke the record,
are
you going to do the circuit?

S
he slid the key back
into her pocket and held her breath.


I

m h
ere to pick up some extra money,

he
said
.

I

m not a
bronc
rider by trade and even
after
breaking your daddy

s record, I

m not about to become one
.
It

s a hard life. Harder than what I do.

He
reached for her.
She felt the pull like it was some magnetic force.
She didn

t want to fight it anymore. It didn

t matter whether he
rodeoed
or
cowboyed
or drove a truck. She

d been struggling against demons that no longer seemed to matter.

One look at Clay

s
hand
outstretched
in
invitation
along with
the
silent plea on his face
, and her
boots
were clicking on the concrete as
she went to him.
His chest was solid, his arms strong as
he pressed her
to
him
.
The heat of his body felt good in the mild
chill
of the night air.

His hands moved up her back in a warm caress.

I want to celebrate my win
.
Tonight
.
W
ith you.

His hot breath teased her skin.

BOOK: Falling For A Cowboy
3.11Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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