Rough Riders Bundle 1(books 1, 2, 3) (61 page)

He nudged her with his shoulder. “No, smarty. She likes to ride. It’d be good for her to learn to train a horse from the get-go. It might also be an incentive for her to stick around here at the end of the summer.”

“Things are going well between you two?”

“Better than I’d hoped, which is why I don’t want her to leave. Selfish, huh?”

“No.”

“Are you okay with it?”

“Yes, but you know she can’t live in that camper indefinitely.”

“I thought once McKay left she could live in the trailer. It even has a barn.”

So Cash had already written off Carter McKay. Gemma wasn’t so sure Carter had cashed in his chips with Macie—more like Carter was regrouping. She kept her opinion to herself. “A barn, which would be perfect for her new horse.”

“Yep.” He fiddled with the remote. “By the way, I heard from Trevor Glanzer today. He’s on his way through tomorrow night. Is it all right if he crashes here?”

“Sure. But that’s odd. He just called you out of the blue?”

Cash aimed the remote. “Wanna see what’s on TV tonight?”

Gemma heaved a dramatic sigh. “We’re watching TV? The romance has already worn off.”

“Can we just veg? I’m bushed, Gem. I know I passed out last night, but you plum wore me out two nights ago.”

“You ain’t the one with the sore ass, cowboy.”

“Complaining?”

“A little.” She smirked. “Okay, not much. It was hot as hell, waking up tied up. You having your wicked way with me. Telling me precisely all the kinky things you planned—”

“This ain’t relaxing me none.”

“Knowing I couldn’t make too much noise, even when your thrusts felt so good I wanted to scream. So hard I could feel your cock all the way in my throat—”

Groaning, Cash picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder.

“What are you doin’?”

“Taking you to bed,
winyan
.”

“But I thought you were too tired?”

“Lucky for you I just got my second wind and a new rope to break in.” He spanked her butt and she shrieked. “Keep up that dirty talk and I’ll have to try out the gag too.”

‡

“H
ey, squirt, when
you’re done in there can I talk to you?” Velma said in front of the pass-through window.

“Sure. It’ll cost you a beer, though.” Macie tossed the metal-bristled scrub brush aside. She used a clean white towel to wipe down the grill and admired the sparkling surface before she shut the lights off in the kitchen and shuffled out front.

Velma sat at the counter with a ten-key calculator. Long curls of white tape spilled everywhere. Without looking up, she said, “I put a six-pack of Bud in the small cooler. Grab me one too, while you’re at it.”

Macie popped the tops on the cans and waited, thankful not to be on her feet. Man. She was exhausted. She’d been working split shifts the last two days. And with the way Velma was frowning, she figured it wasn’t going to get better any time soon.

Why stay here? It’s time to move on anyway. You don’t owe anybody anything but yourself.

It’d been a couple of weeks since her mom’s advice made an appearance. She hadn’t missed it.

Velma chugged half the beer. “It sucks that TJ up and quit. I don’t know if he was threatened by you or what, but it’s actually a good thing.”

“Why would he be threatened by me?”

“Because you are a damn good cook. And not just the usual diner fare. You’re bringing something new and fresh. Something classy.”

Macie squirmed.

“Local folks who hardly ever came in have taken notice. And the changes ain’t drivin’ away my regular customers, which is a plus. The bottom line is my business has more than doubled in the last two months and I am attributing it to you.”

“But hey, no pressure,” Macie muttered and swigged her beer.

Velma stared at her thoughtfully.

“What?”

“What are your future plans, Macie? Is the Last Chance Diner a blip on the roadmap to somewhere else?”

Macie really squirmed.

When she didn’t answer, Velma looked away and said softly, “I’m sure working in a greasy spoon in Wyoming ain’t your life goal. Probably have loftier ambitions.”

Macie placed her hand on Velma’s arm. “Don’t. You’ve built a great business here. And as flattered as I am that you think I’ve had something to do with business picking up in recent months, it still is
your
place, Velma.”

“True. But you still didn’t answer my question, squirt.”

“I don’t know if I can. You knew I’d only be around a few months. I do like working here better than anywhere else I’ve punched a clock lately. But you should know I’ve just never worked anywhere longer than four months.”

“Why?”

“Honestly? I get bored. Or I get fired. I’ve never had a reason to stick around anyplace and put down roots or whatever.”

“But your dad is here. Things are working out with him at Gemma’s place?”

“Yeah.”

“Are things working out between the two of you?”

Macie smiled. “Better than I’d hoped actually.”

“I’m glad.”

The clock ticked. The walk-in freezer hummed.

Velma sighed. “How are things goin’ with you and that good-looking artist feller?”

Her stomach pitched when she thought of Carter. She hadn’t seen him since the day he’d squared off with her father. Which was why laboring excessive hours at the diner hadn’t bothered her. She needed distance and time to think about what’d happened.

Contrary to what other people thought, she hadn’t been mad at Carter for what he’d done. She’d been upset by the fact he’d cared enough about her welfare to challenge her father. In front of everyone, his family, his friends. Carter had been worried about her getting hurt. Or dying.

Dying.

She’d never had a man worry about her for any reason, let alone for her personal safety. It was cool. It was weird.

It was confusing as hell.

So, Macie didn’t know if she was supposed to throw herself at Carter in gratitude for his protective instincts. Or take her father’s side for his.

Talk about riding the mental merry-go-round ’til it made her dizzy.

And that didn’t even take into consideration the L-word.

Macie was pretty sure she loved Carter. But how did she really know for sure? She had absolutely nothing in her life to gauge it by.

Loving her mother didn’t count. Neither did the idea she was starting to love her dad.

The skeptic reminded her she’d known Carter McKay for a little over two months. How could she possibly love him?

Didn’t love take time to build? Did she
think
she loved Carter because of the incredible sex? Because he understood her? Because he calmed her fears? Because he made her feel daring? Because he went out of his way to share silly and sweet things with her? Because he showed her sides of himself no one else knew? Because he thought she was beautiful and worthy of his art?

Or did she think she loved him strictly because he’d paid attention to her? When he’d made that same accusation to her father, it caused a ricochet effect, and the opposite reaction from what Carter probably expected. Instead of questioning her motives and actions regarding her dad, Macie questioned her motives and actions where Carter was concerned.

Which always led back to the “Do I love him?” question. Or a scarier scenario: What would she do if Carter told her he loved her? What would he expect? That she’d follow him while he lived his dream? What about her dreams? Would Carter be ready to make the same sacrifices for her?

The most troubling question? Was she prepared to give up the relationship she was establishing with her dad, for the ups and downs of romantic love? Would her father do the same thing for her?

“Macie?”

Her head snapped up and she looked at Velma. “Sorry. I’ve had a lot on my mind lately.”

“I imagine. Well, I don’t want to add to that burden, but I’m afraid I have no choice.”

Whoa. Was Velma going to fire her?

“Don’t look at me like that, squirt. It ain’t nothin’ bad. I’ve been crunching some numbers, and I think I can afford to hire another part-time cook.”

“Okay.”

“You’re probably thinking; how’s that affect me? I’ll just say this straight out: I want you to stay in Canyon River. Part of the reason—well, most of it actually—is pure selfishness on my part. I like you. I like what you’ve done for this place on a number of levels. The other part is: I think you like it here—at the diner and in Canyon River—and you need an excuse to put down roots. Or at least you need a reason to
try
to put down roots.” Velma’s eyes softened beneath her glasses. “You ain’t never had what most of us have taken for granted. I know you’re curious on whether it’s worth it, or if it’d be just another heartache. I look in those pretty hazel eyes and I see wisdom beyond your years.”

Macie managed to swallow the last of her beer over the lump growing in her throat.

“Here’s what I propose: I’ll pay you a decent salary. You’ll be the head cook, and we’ll mix it up so you’re working all shifts.”

“You want me working breakfast, lunch and dinner?”

“No, I’m saying it’d be smart to sprinkle your good recipes and sunny personality around all the main meals. On my days off, I’d want you out front doin’ my job.”

“Schmoozing the regulars and belittling the help? I’m so all over that.”

Velma smiled. “See? We’re on the same page. I think it’s some kinda cosmic sign. Besides, you are young enough that if after a year it don’t work out, you can move on. What do you have to lose?”

“Nothing, apparently. But I need to think about it. Not just a couple of days, but a couple of weeks, okay?”

“Sure thing. You’ll still be working here while you’re trying to make a decision?”

“Yeah. And I’d appreciate it if we could keep this between us. Just us. There’s already a million pros and cons in my head. I don’t need anyone else adding their opinion.”

“Consider it done. And remember, I always close down for ten days at the end of this month. Gives me time to regroup after the summer months and gear up for the fall.”

As Macie drove back to the Bar 9, she knew Velma’s offer complicated matters in her life, rather than providing a clear solution.

When she reached for the door handle to the camper, she noticed a piece of paper taped by the window. Her heart beat hard as she unrolled the scroll.

At the top was a sketch of a rodeo clown. Crying as a bull, which looked suspiciously like a caricature of her father, gored him in the butt. The words
I’M SORRY
took up the entire middle of the page. Below that, he’d written:

I miss you. Come see me when you get home, doesn’t matter what time. We’ll talk. Do normal couple things. And have pie. A helping of humble pie for me, darlin’ ~ C ~

Macie stared at the paper for the longest time. She whispered, “Carter McKay, you are such a dumbass.” And right then, she had no doubts that she was indeed, completely, madly in love with him.

‡

“E
xcuse me. Is
this the studio of famous Wyoming artist in residence, Carter ‘shoulda been a cowboy’ McKay?”

Carter spun around and grinned. “Jack! You bastard. ’Bout goddamn time you got here.”

“You do realize I’m not living in Denver anymore and I had to fly in? I’ve been stuck in the rental car for five hours. Without satellite radio.” He dropped his duffel bag and scowled. “Can you please tell me why every single station around these parts plays nothing but that goat yodeling crap?”

“Hey, some of us like Western music.”

“Yeah, well, you’re a hick, so I expected that much from you.” Jack stalked over and grabbed him in a bear hug. “Good to see you, man, you look like shit.”

“Gee, thanks.” Carter gave Jack—all six-foot-four, two hundred odd pounds of him—a quick inspection. “You look a little tight-assed yourself. Wearing pinstriped underwear under your pinstriped suits these days?”

“Fuck off. Where’s the beer?”

“In the cooler by the door.”

“Cool. You care if we sit outside? I’ve been cooped up all damn day. Need some of that fresh mountain air.”