Boots and the Bachelor (2 page)

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Authors: Myla Jackson

Tags: #Cowboys;Small Town;Second Chances

BOOK: Boots and the Bachelor
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Had he asked her to marry him that night, she'd have said yes and chucked college.

But he hadn't. Angus had told her how important it was for her to get her education, and that he understood she had to leave. Feeling optimistic that he'd wait for her, she'd tucked a letter in the back pocket of his jeans, telling him the things she'd been too shy to say out loud. She loved him and hoped he'd wait for her. At the bottom, she'd given him her phone number and address in College Station and told him to call her if he got the chance.

Two months passed and he didn't write, call or visit. At Christmas when she would normally have gone home for the holidays, her parents announced they'd sold the house, bought a motor home and would be spending the winter in Florida.

Angus hadn't contacted her by Christmas and, with no family left in Temptation, she had no reason to return.

“How's Dalton doing in his new school?” Mona's question pulled her back to the present. “What is he, six now?”

“He'll be six soon.” Her son was the center of Gwen's world. A child born out of stupid sex and a quickie marriage in Vegas, Dalton was the farthest thing from a mistake. He was her everything. “Dalton is the perfect son. He's respectful, loving, kind to animals and smart as a whip.”

Mona clapped her hands. “And I bet Grant is having a ball as we speak. You should have seen him going through his old sports stuff from his high school days when I told him you were coming.”

“I didn't come down from Dallas to stick Grant with babysitting.” Gwen sighed. “I needed a break from work and the city, and it's been far too long since I came to visit you here in Temptation.”

“Damn right it has. Seven years to be exact. Hell, since your parents sold out and moved to Florida.”

“I miss this place.”

“I miss you.” Mona set her beer mug on the bar and hugged her friend. “I'm glad I talked you into girls' night out.”

“I am too. It's been a while since I've had a night out. Much as I love my son, it's nice to have a break.”

Mona settled back on her barstool and drank a swallow of beer. “So you traveled all the way to Temptation just to see me?”

“I needed to talk to someone who wasn't from the city. Someone down-to-earth.”

Mona's brows crinkled. “That doesn't sound sexy at all. You're making me feel like my grandmother.”

Gwen laughed. “Not at all. You're young, vibrant and…” her lips twisted as she thought how to phrase her words, “…well, everything I feel like I've lost in myself.”

“What?” Mona leaned back. “Look at you. You're a freakin' knockout. I can't even offer to do your hair. You must have some high-dollar stylist at your beck and call.”

Heat rushed up in her cheeks. “Yeah. I do. But that's not why I came. I need advice.”

“You're the owner of a growing company. What would I know about the world you don't know already?”

“I have Dalton in a good school. They wear uniforms every day and they have high academic standards. He's almost six, but he's reading at a fourth-grade level already.”

“And that's a problem?” Mona's brow scrunched. “I don't see a problem.”

“I'm a single mom, raising a son. I teach him right from wrong, to be kind to others and help him with his homework. I'm doing the best I can.” Gwen twisted her hands together.

Mona smiled across her beer. “What child needs more than that?”


He
does. He's a good kid, but I can't be everything to him.” Gwen sighed. “He needs a male role model. One he can look up to. A man who can teach him what it takes to be a good man.”

Mona nodded. “You're smart, what is it you can't do that a man could?”

Gwen raised a finger. “For one, I can't throw a baseball to save my life. I'm even worse at football. I admit, I'm hopeless when it comes to sports.”

“So?” Mona laughed. “Sign him up for a community team. I'm sure Dallas has loads of them.”

“They do, but it's not just that.” Gwen raised a second finger. “He needs to know how to defend himself.”

“Put him in a martial arts class.”

“I could do that, but it's more than classes and sports. He needs a role model, someone he can talk to and ask guy questions.”

Mona gave her a pointed look. “Then why aren't you dating? If you found a man you could love, he could provide Dalton with that male role model you think he needs.”

“That's like interviewing men for a position as my son's father.” Gwen grimaced. “I wouldn't do that to the man, and I wouldn't want to marry a man I don't love just to give Dalton a dad.”

“Give yourself a break, sweetie. You might find the perfect guy you and Dalton could both love.”

Gwen shook her head. “It's too much to ask a guy to take on a ready-made family. I've given up on marriage and dating until Dalton is grown and on his own.”

“Wow, that's harsh.”

“It's reality. Besides, I don't have time for a man in my life.”

“I think you protest too much.” Mona grinned. “When was the last time you got laid?”

Gwen gasped. “Mona!”

Her friend shrugged. “A woman has needs, just like a man.”

“We were talking about my son. Not me.”

“Fine. Have it your way.” Mona chugged the last of her beer and set it on the counter. “But I think you need a man to give you some hot, dirty sex to get your female juices flowing again. Your vagina is like any other muscle. It needs to be exercised or it shrivels up from lack of use.”

Gwen clapped both hands to her burning cheeks. “Mona, please. Change the subject. You're embarrassing me.” And making her hot just thinking about exercising her woman parts. God, it had been far too long since she'd had a man in her bed and her vibrator just wasn't getting her off anymore.

Mona pushed her mug toward Libby, the bartender. “Can you set us up with a couple of tequila shots?”

Libby plopped two shot glasses on the counter and spilled tequila into them, then she sliced a lime into quarters and set them in a glass beside the tequila shots. “Want salt with that?”

“Damn right,” Mona said.

Libby plunked a shaker of salt beside the tequila and limes. “Let me know when you need a refill.”

Mona lifted a shot glass. “You remember how, right? It's as easy as one, two, three. Salt.” She licked the curve in her hand between her thumb and forefinger, shook salt over where she'd licked and then sucked the salt off her hand. “Tequila.” Mona upended her shot glass, downing the tequila in one swallow. “Lime.” Jamming the lime in her mouth, she bit into the fruit, her face puckering. “Whew! That burns so good.” She nodded toward the other shot glass. “Your turn.”

Gwen hadn't done tequila shots since college and stared at the shot glass skeptically. Then she shrugged and performed the same routine—salt, tequila, lime—downing the liquid in one fiery gulp.

The alcohol burned down her throat all the way to her stomach, shooting flames outward to her extremities.

After a moment, the alcohol settled in, numbing the back of her throat first, then her tongue and finally the tips of her fingers.

“Have you thought about getting Dalton into a mentoring program?”

“No, I hadn't thought about that,” she said, her tongue feeling heavy and a bit slow. “How would I know I'd be getting a good one?”

“You could screen them.” Mona glanced around the saloon at the laughing, giggling women. “Hell, Gwen, buy a cowboy tonight. Audrey only invites the best to be auctioned. They have to be polite, with no criminal record, and an all-around good guy, or she wouldn't let them be auctioned off.”

Heat filled Gwen's cheeks. “I couldn't do that. These men are expecting to go on a date with a
woman
. Not a woman and her son.”

“I bet they wouldn't mind. That would give you a jump start with that male role model you want. He might even teach Dalton how to ride.”

The thought held merit. Dalton had been pestering her for riding lessons. Who better to teach him than a cowboy? She could arrange to have the dates at a local riding stable. Dalton and the cowboy could ride while she watched from the other side of the fence.

“And you might find that you like the cowboy, fall in love and the three of you will live happily ever after.” Mona hopped off her stool. “I'll be right back.”

“Where are you going?” Gwendolyn had met Audrey Anderson, the owner, and Libby, the bartender, but she didn't know anyone else in the crowded room.

Mona waved a hand as she disappeared into the crowd.

“Can I get you another drink?” Libby asked.

Gwen stared down at the empty shot glass, warmth still floating through her, and smiled. “Yes, please.” Seven summers ago, Angus had taught her an appreciation for tequila right there in the Ugly Stick Saloon. She glanced around, half hoping to see the man who'd ruined her for any other man. He'd set the bar too high for any of the men she'd dated, and they never quite rose to that level.

Angus was kindhearted, loved his family, kept his promises, and he was good with animals. Not to mention, he was an excellent lover. Her thighs tingled. She tried to count it off as the tequila still working its way through her system, but she knew that would be a lie.

The memories of Angus lying between her legs, making sweet love to her in the bed of his pickup, on the sweet-scented prairie grass and in the secluded hunter's cabin on a far corner of the Rafter M Ranch, were never far from her mind.

He was the kind of man she wanted as a role model for her son. A man's man, who knew how to treat a woman. Then again, he'd failed in one category. He'd never come after her.

She'd learned a valuable lesson with Angus McFarlan. Don't fall in love with a cowboy. Apparently, she'd been a summer fling to him. Once she'd gone, she was out of sight and out of the man's mind.

Mona returned bearing a paddle with a number on it.

“What's that?” Gwen asked.

“What does it look like?” Mona held it out.

Gwen shook her head and raised her hands. “Oh no. I'm not going there.”

“Yes. You are.” Mona took Gwen's hand and placed the paddle in her palm. “You do have a sizeable chunk of money you really want to go to the women's shelter, don't you?”

“I'll make a donation. I don't need a date with a cowboy to do that.”

“Well, the only cowboys who will be here tonight are the ones going up for bid. If you want one to help you out with Dalton, you'll have to up the ante and bid for him.”

Her stomach burbled and her chest tightened. “I can't.” Despite her protest, a tingle of anticipation rippled through her.

“You're a high-powered business owner with more balls than most men I know.”

“Exactly.” Gwen nodded, pushing aside the insane thought of owning a cowboy. “I don't need to buy a cowboy to prove it.”

“Honey. Yes. You. Do.” Mona curled Gwen's fingers around the paddle. “Bring on the cowboys!” she yelled. “We're gonna ride one tonight!”

Libby stood behind the bar, holding the tequila bottle up for Gwen to see. “More?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

The bartender tipped the tequila into her shot glass. “Will that be all?”

Gwen rolled her eyes, her stomach pitching. “Make it a double. I think I'm buying a cowboy tonight.”

Chapter Two

Angus climbed down from his truck, plunked his cowboy hat on his head and cringed at the loud music shaking the tin roof of the Ugly Stick Saloon.

Colin joined him. “You don't think she'll sell the ranch, do you?”

“The ranch is in Mom's name. She can do anything she wants with it.” He hoped and prayed she wouldn't sell, but who knew what she would do after the way she'd left them earlier.

A stream of women had lined up at the door to get in.

Colin grinned. “At least she didn't have to twist my arm to come out on ladies' night. It's not that I don't love women; it's just that I love all of them. I always say, why get stuck with one when you can enjoy the lot?” He settled his hat on his head and smiled. “This'll be fun.”

Angus's gut tightened as he neared the crowd. It wouldn't be fun for him. “I'm not good at this.”

“It's easy. All you have to do is be a good listener. Nod a few times and crack your face every once in a while with a smile.” Colin patted Angus's back. “Mom's right. You've spent far too much time with your horses.”

“I like horses,” Angus grumbled.

“And you don't like women?” Colin puffed out his chest. “A man has needs.”

Angus shrugged. “I get my needs satisfied with a widow woman in Amarillo, once a month when I go to the horse auction. I get what I want, she gets what she wants, no strings. It's perfect.”

Colin shook his head. “Angus, big brother, you really do need to get a life.”

Angus glared at his brother. “And you're much better? You're with a different woman every week? How's that better? At that rate, you'll never marry and have kids. Mom wants you to settle down with one woman, not a harem.”

“I haven't met the one woman I want to spend the rest of my life with. How does Mom expect me to find her in two months when I've been dating women for the past eight years and have yet to even narrow it down to twenty?”

As they neared the bar, the woman at the back of the line waiting to get in spotted them and squealed and shouted, “Here come the cowboys!”

The rest of the women turned and made the same screeching noise as the first. As one, the crowd of females rushed toward them, feral looks blazing from their eyes.

Angus would have turned and run if Colin hadn't hooked his arm.

“You should see your face.” Colin laughed out loud. “Come on, don't be chicken. They're just a bunch of women.”

“But they're eyeing us like sides of beef.”

“Enjoy it!” Colin let the ladies grab his hands and usher him through to the door.

Angus was swept along behind him and practically shoved through the entrance into the Ugly Stick Saloon.

The crowd of ladies inside was even wilder than the one outside. Angus and Colin were pushed, shoved and pinched as they inched through the mob to the bar.

“I can't do this,” Angus said again as his ass was pinched and some really daring woman grabbed his package. “Hey!”

The woman winked. “Just testing the goods.” She turned to her friend. “That one's mine.”

“Move aside, girls.” Audrey Anderson, five months pregnant and barely showing, waded through the crowd toward them, hooked Colin's arm and then Angus's. “Let them through. Give these fine cowboys some air to breathe.” She chuckled and led them toward the bar and two empty stools. “Have a seat, gentlemen. The fun begins in a few minutes. What can I get you? The drinks are on the house for the cowboys tonight.”

“Whiskey. Make it a double.” Angus needed all the help he could get.

“Angus, when are you going to sell me that quarter horse stud?” Jackson Gray Wolf was seated on the stool beside Angus. He set down his beer and held out his hand.

Angus took it, glad for a little testosterone in the sea of feminine laughter and rabid glances. “When are you ready to pay an arm and a leg for him?”

“I'm ready. I just sold some stock and made a pile of money. I can afford him.”

Angus shook his friend's hand. “Sorry to disappoint, but I'm not in the market to sell him anytime soon. But it's always good to see you, Jackson.”

“That's a shame.” Jackson turned and shook hands with Colin. “Your mother called to let us know you were on your way. Thanks for coming. Glad to hear she's still cancer-free.”

Angus was still angry at his mother's ultimatum, but he couldn't be mad long. The woman had been through so much with her husband's death and then a two-year-long battle with breast cancer. She was tough, but her family meant everything to her. Angus could understand her desire to see them all settled with wives and children of their own. She probably thought she wouldn't be around forever and that they needed someone to see them through hard times.

Angus stared out at the mob of women. Searching for a wife in this insanity wasn't his idea of how to go about doing it.

Jackson grinned. “Feeling outnumbered?”

“You bet.” If Angus were prone to panic attacks, he'd swear he was on the verge of one.

Jackson shook his head and ran a hand through his thick black hair. The man commanded attention with the high cheekbones, strong jaw and piercing eyes of his Kiowa ancestors. “We had two of our cowboys call in sick. With this crowd, it might have caused a riot. When your mother called and said you were coming, I wanted to reach through the phone and hug the woman.”

Though Angus loved his mother and was glad her cancer was in remission, he didn't feel much like hugging her. She'd condemned him to a night of screaming females, all wanting to touch him and pinch his ass. Had they no shame? “I'm here for the whiskey.” He'd have a couple drinks, maybe a burger from the grill, hang out a while and head home. That ought to appease his mother and maybe she'd calm down and quit the crazy talk.

Sell the Rafter M Ranch? Over his cold, dead body.

He leaned over to Colin and whispered, “How much money you got in the bank?”

“Not enough to buy a three-thousand-acre ranch. And neither do you.”

“If we put our savings together—”

“We might have a small down payment. But what bank would loan us the amount it would take to buy three thousand acres of prime range?” Colin shook his head and lifted his glass to his lips. “The odds would be more in our favor of finding a wife in two months than scrounging up a sizeable down payment. And holy hell, think of the monthly mortgage bill that would eat up every bit of profit either one of us could make off that place.”

Yup, they were screwed. Angus raised his glass and downed the whiskey, welcoming the slow burn it made all the way to his belly.

Jackson leaned toward the brothers. “Get ready, they're about to start.”

Angus, along with the crowd of women, turned toward the stage where Audrey stood with a microphone in her hand. “Ladies and, er, Ladies!”

The women in the crowd whooped and hollered.

“I want to thank you all for coming out and bringing your hard-earned cash to the Ugly Stick Saloon's Annual Cowboy Auction. This year's proceeds will benefit the county women's shelter.”

Another round of whoops and hollers.

Angus nearly slid off his chair and left. Already his ears rang, and he couldn't hear himself think.

“Ha!” Colin laughed. “Trust Mom to make this night interesting.”

“Yeah, well, I'm ready to head home.” He couldn't understand any man who'd be willing to put himself on display like a prized bull on the auctioneer's block. The man would have to be insane, desperate or have a pair of iron balls.

“You can't go now. We have to see who they suckered into being auctioned off tonight. This'll be a hoot.” Colin sat back, a grin on his face, his whiskey in his hand.

Charli Sutton, Connor Mason's fiancée and Audrey's assistant manager of the Ugly Stick Saloon, took the mic from Audrey. She shook back her mane of blond hair and grinned. “Who's ready for some beefcake?”

Angus could swear the noise emitted from all those women actually lifted the roof of the building. He fought the urge to cover his ears.

“Our first cowboy up for bid has a thirty-two-inch waist, is six feet tall, has black hair and gray eyes. He's offered to escort the winning bidder on two dates to the winner's choice of locations. This handsome cowboy grew up on a ranch, but prefers his horses with wings. Please give it up for the sexy resident flyboy, Jake Maddox!”

Charli stepped aside to the crushing applause as Jake Maddox swaggered out on the stage in jeans, cowboy hat, boots and a blue chambray shirt. Raunchy stripper music played and Jake, whom Angus considered a friend, strutted around the stage, tipped his hat to the crowd of women and winked. Then he unbuttoned his shirt, one button at a time, pulled it off his back and tossed it into the crowd.

Like a shark feeding frenzy, the women fought over the shirt, ripping it to shreds.

Angus couldn't bear to watch his friend's shame as the bidding started and the women holding numbered paddles practically foamed at the mouth in their excitement to win two dates with Jake. Poor bastard.

While the bidding continued, Angus leaned across the counter and held up his glass to get the bartender's attention.

Libby Jones hurried over. “Another whiskey?”

Angus shook his head. The way Colin was knocking back the drinks, someone would have to drive him home. “No. I'm designated driver. Water would be great. And something for a headache, if you have it.”

Libby set him up with a glass of iced water and a couple of generic ibuprofen pills. As he chugged them down, the flash of auburn hair at the other end of the bar caught his attention, reminding him of a girl he knew from, hell, how many years ago? Six? Seven?

His pulse leaped and he tried to see her around the other people crowding up to the bar for another drink. It couldn't be the beautiful, carefree college girl he'd fallen for that summer between her junior and senior years of college.

Gwen Graves.

That had been the year his father died. He'd given up his job at the firm in Dallas and returned home to run the ranch.

One day he'd been in Temptation collecting supplies and feed. He'd literally run into her at the diner. He'd gone in for a quick bite to eat. As he left, he'd turned to say goodbye to a friend and opened the door in Gwen's face, knocking her over. When he'd apologized she'd told him he could make it up to her by buying her a milkshake. That had been the beginning of something he'd spent the next seven years trying to forget.

They'd seen each other every day for an entire month. She'd taught him how to two-step at the Ugly Stick Saloon. He'd tried to teach her how to ride a horse western style, but she'd preferred riding double behind him, her arms around his waist.

She'd gone with him out to tend cattle and mend fences, helping him by handing him a hammer and nails. Her smile rivaled the sun, the light smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose adding to her sweet girl-next-door appeal, and her body…

He could picture her as if it were yesterday. One hot day, they'd gone to the creek to cool off in the natural pool shaded by willow trees. He'd watered the horse and turned to find her standing naked on the rock ledge overlooking the pool's smooth surface.

“Last one in is a rotten egg!” She winked, trotted over to the edge and dove in, swam to the middle and flipped over onto her back, her bare breasts gleaming in the dappled sunlight finding its way through the tree branches. “Feels so good.”

To this day, his throat locked up and he fought to swallow at the image of her smooth white breasts tipped with tantalizing rosy areolas, half-submerged in the water, her smile urging him to join her. That particular memory was indelibly etched into his mind.

The woman at the end of the counter only resembled Gwen by the color of her hair.

When he got a better look, he realized it couldn't be her. Her face was perfectly made up and she wore a light-gray business suit. She appeared to be more interested in her conversation with Mona Daley, Temptation's beauty shop owner, than in the bidding war that had begun over Jake.

Angus wondered if the woman in the business suit was single. Then again, he hadn't had much in common with the women he'd met when he'd worked in Dallas at an architectural firm. They'd all been too uptight, wearing narrow pencil skirts and high heels. He'd much rather be with a woman comfortable in jeans and cowboy boots.

Like Gwen.

He sighed.

Ah, Gwen. Timing couldn't have been better or worse. He'd needed her joyous spirit and love of life that summer. His father's death had been a huge blow to the family. Without giving it a second thought, Angus gave up his dreams of being in charge of building incredible skyscrapers, to return to the ranch and help out his grieving mother. With one brother gone, the other in college, it had been up to him to take over.

When Gwen left, Angus had every intention of going after her. But circumstances and his mother's fight with breast cancer put the kibosh on that plan. He couldn't expect Gwen to put her life on hold, waiting for him. She was a young, vibrant woman on the verge of graduating college and starting a new career. He'd only hold her back.

Since that summer, Angus hadn't been interested in any other woman. None of them had Gwen's smile or her beautiful hazel eyes—gold one minute and green the next. The thought of starting all over and putting his heart out there again held no appeal to him. It hurt too much.

“Sold! The two dates with the handsome Jack Maddox go to bidder number 549 for one thousand dollars. Congratulations, and thank you for your donation to the women's shelter.”

The women clapped and cheered, patting the winner on the back.

Audrey emerged from the crowd, grinning. “Wasn't that great? One thousand dollars!”

Jackson smiled and pulled her between his knees. “That's great, sweetheart. Shouldn't you be off your feet?”

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