Chantilly’s Cowboy (2 page)

“What’s got you pissing in the bottle? Don’t you realize it’s Friday night?”

Val set another cold beer in front of Chantilly and placed the empty one Chantilly had already finished under the counter.

Chantilly glared at her sister. “Nothing.” She tilted back her head and swallowed a good-size chug. “Long week. I’ve been thinking about taking Bisette up on her offer to come visit. I think I need a change of scenery.”

Val snorted. “Yeah, right. Tell me something I’ll believe this time, sis.” She leaned over the bar. “You and dad fightin’?”

“Nah. Can’t fight with someone who barely talks to me these days.” Chantilly shook her head. “Dad’s lost his mind. I’m seriously thinking we need to have him committed to wherever they send old ranchers who’ve gone senile. Maybe ol’ man Johnson would set him up in that run-down building he claims holds all the supplies for when the end of the world comes.”

Val laughed. “Sounds serious, and considering Dad’s stronger than most men, you’d better come up with another plan. Plus, he thinks Mr. Johnson is loopier than the tail of a Yorkshire pig.” She frowned. “What did he do to you this time?”

“He hired a foreman.”

“Shoot, sis.” Val placed her hands on the bar, jumped and swung her legs around to sit on the edge of the bar beside Chantilly. “Come here.” She wrapped her arms around Chantilly and pulled her head against her stomach. “We’ll call a family meeting and bring all the sisters in. Daddy can’t do this to you.”

Chantilly shook her head and wiped her nose on the front of her sister’s blouse. “No. The more we fight ’bout it, the more determined he’ll be to keep him on. You know how stubborn he is.” She wrapped her arms around Val’s waist. “Damn Jack Grady anyhow.”

“There, there, Chantilly Lace.” Val stroked Chantilly’s back. “We’ll figure something out. Even if we hafta run the ugly bastard off.”

“He’s not.” Chantilly leaned her head back and gazed up at Val.

“Not what?”

“Ugly.” She closed her eyes and let Val wipe the tear from her cheek. “You should see him, sis. I’ve never seen a man with so much…so much manliness. I swear when God handed out the male gene, he got in line twice.”

“Hm…” Val pursed her lips and tilted her head.

“It’s not just the way he swaggers in his jeans…He’s got this—” Chantilly threw her arms out and almost lost her balance on the barstool. “Whoa!”

“Easy.” Val grabbed her hand. “This what?” She grinned and raised her brows. “Are you telling me you can tell if he’s a lefty or a righty?”

“Don’t!” Chantilly shook her head and held up her hand. “Lefty, but that’s not it.” She leaned forward. “It’s the way he stares at me. My insides are tied up in knots all day long. I swear I wanna jump on top of him and do the wild—”

“Sh!” Val covered her sister’s mouth. “You wanna have every cowboy in the place all over you?” She frowned. “You never could hold your alcohol. You’re gonna hafta wait until I close to go home, and I’ll give you a ride.”

“Hey, Valenciennes, where’s my beer?” A customer knocked on the wooden counter and stepped closer to where the two sisters sat.

Val raised her arm and pointed at Chantilly. “Back off, Harland. Can’t you see I’m dealing with a family crisis? Pour your own damn drink if you can’t wait.”

“Why didn’t you say so?” Harland Baker leaned over. “You okay, Chantilly? Do you need me to bust some heads fer you? You know I can do it. Remember when you gave me your lunch to beat up Sam Cross in the fifth grade? I’m good if I do say so myself.”

Chantilly sniffed and gave a half smile. “Yeah, you did real well, Harland.” She sighed. “Nah, I don’t need you to do any fighting for me. I’ll be fine eventually.” She straightened up and patted Val’s leg. “Keep the drinks coming, sis. Tomorrow’s Saturday and I’m drowning my troubles.” She stood up, swayed and flung her hair behind her shoulders. “Besides, tonight I’m riding the bull.”

“Chantilly.” Val raised one eyebrow. “One drink
is
your limit. You’ve drunk enough. Plus, I hate when you rile the guys up over riding ol’ Roy.”

Chantilly laughed harshly. “Oh sweet Jesus, you look like Dad when you do that.” She stepped away from Val and turned to the rest of the bar. “Alrighty, boys, twenty bucks says I can keep my ass planted on ol’ Roy longer than any of you wannabes.”

Jack Grady sat at a corner table with his hat pulled down low, unable to find the willpower to take his gaze off Chantilly. His great plan to take a break from the constant state of arousal Chantilly had put him in all week collapsed the moment he found her sitting at the bar. No way could he leave now. He had an unexplainable desire to learn who Chantilly Lace was off her daddy’s ranch.

He lifted the beer bottle to his lips without missing a moment of the touching scene between the two sisters. It didn’t take a genius to realize the woman who tended bar was another daughter of Stuart McDougal. How Stuart managed to raise five daughters with the bloodlines of thoroughbreds, without having a heart attack or killing every male in Pike, perplexed him.

He drained the last of his drink and set it down with a clink against the wobbly table. All week he’d itched to get his hands on her. Away from work, he still wanted to wrap her in his arms and protect her from everything life would throw her way.

He envied the way Stuart had raised a tight-knit family by himself. That alone drew his respect. Jack didn’t have that same closeness growing up with his own family. He didn’t want his working at the ranch to cause Chantilly pain. Yet the woman confused the hell out of him. He wanted to find out the reason behind those looks he caught her giving him and the way her body leaned a little bit closer when work made it impossible to step away.

If she wasn’t bumping into him shoveling horseshit in the stables, she was undoing one too many buttons on those girly blouses that barely covered her curves. He gritted his teeth. The last few nights he walked to the cabin after work with a definite limp because she’d done her best to heat things up between them and walk away with her tail in the air.

He’d spotted her the moment he walked in to the bar. How could he miss her? His radar went off loud and clear whenever she was around. Maybe it was time to play her game, give her a little and see what she did with him.

Jack motioned for the waitress. “One more, please.” Leaning on the table, he let his gaze follow Chantilly across the room. With the jukebox playing he couldn’t hear what made the customers gravitate to the far side of the room, but he had a good idea it was Chantilly.
Damn, what is that girl up to?

Unable to see where she headed, Jack stood up and moved with the crowd. He clamped his teeth together.
The hell she is!

Chantilly stood beside the mechanical bull, passed her beer to one of the guys and, smoother than the head of a newborn calf, vaulted atop the flat leather seat. Jack turned and sought out her sister. Wasn’t she going to stop this stupidity?

The other McDougal sister moved about behind the bar, filling trays of mugs, apparently without a concern for Chantilly’s safety. Jack marched over to the counter.
If she ain’t gonna do something, I will. The fool girl is gonna end up breaking her neck.

“What can I get—”

“You can get your hell-raiser of a sister off that bull.” Jack tipped back the front of his hat. The muscle at his temple twitched. He softened his voice. “Please.”

The woman stared him down and finally burst out laughing. “Well, look at you all puffed up like a horny rooster.” She stepped over and narrowed her eyes. “I don’t know who you think you’re talking to, but no one—” she leaned in closer, “—no one tells me what I can and can’t do in my own bar.”

“Jack Grady. Foreman at McDougal Ranch.” He pointed to Chantilly without breaking the stare down. “Make Chantilly get off that thing before I go haul her off and cause a scene. She has no right to go and do something so foolish. She’s bound to hurt herself.”

Chantilly’s sister slipped her hand down deep into her jeans pocket and slapped a twenty-dollar bill down on the counter. “Nice to meet you, Jack. I’m Chantilly’s baby sister, Val. I’ll bet you twenty bucks that even drunker than Bobby Ray in church on Sunday, Chantilly Lace will outride any slaphappy cowboy in the joint.” Val crossed her arms.

The crowd began a countdown, and Jack turned in time to see Chantilly raise her arm in the air and lean back as the bull quickly shot forward and twisted. He held his breath.
Goddammit.

With his gaze glued on Chantilly, he automatically took the shot glass Val slipped into his hand. He quickly tipped it back and swallowed, letting the warm burn slide down his throat. Even that didn’t distract him from the way Chantilly’s legs pressed against the bull or the way her breasts bounced against the frilly blouse.

Jack set down the glass, pushed his way through the men egging her on and reached the roped-off area at the same time the buzzer rang.

“Beat that, boys.” Chantilly swung her leg over and jumped down. Her legs wobbled and her brows pinched together.

Jack stepped over the cord and caught Chantilly to his chest before she could fall flat on her face. He scooped her up and cradled her in his arms. His breath caught in his chest.

Chantilly snaked her arms around his neck and buried her head against the curve of his shoulder. The crowd parted and let him pass, but Val stood blocking his way to the door. He shifted his body to block Chantilly from deciding to stay with her sister and mouthed the word
home.

Val nodded and stepped closer. “You hurt her and every one of the McDougal girls will tear you apart.” She cocked an eyebrow. “And then we’ll hand the pieces over to Daddy to get rid of.”

He dipped his chin. “Fair ’nuff.”

Val seemed to study him before nodding. “Good.” She stepped back. “Daddy’s a light sleeper. The sixth and seventh step on the stairs creak something awful. It’d be best to put her to bed and not bring down the wrath of Stuart McDougal upon her head.”

“Thanks.” He strode toward the door with Chantilly so relaxed in his arms he wondered if she’d fallen asleep.

It took him five seconds to push through the doors and hit the outside air for the invisible vise to loosen around his chest. He sneaked a kiss to the top of Chantilly’s head and carried her down the sidewalk toward his truck.

“I don’t know what you did to me, little one, but you’re killing me here.” He maneuvered awkwardly to flip the door handle with one of his fingers without letting go of Chantilly.

Jack placed her on the seat. She moaned in such a way all the blood rushed to his crotch.
Damn the timing. Why now when she’s half out of her head?

“Jack?” Chantilly smiled. Her half-closed eyes, for once, didn’t shoot sparks at him.

He cupped her cheek and lost what little control he tried to retain around her. She had curved her neck and was rubbing her face against his hand.

“What, darlin’?”
Name it, and I’ll do it.

“I don’t wanna like you.” She giggled and leaned toward him. He hurried and put his hands on her flat stomach to keep her from falling out of the truck. She pouted. “You make me all flusterated…and hot.” She stuck out her lower lip and blew the hair out of her eyes. “So hot, Jack.”

He shouldn’t have kicked back that shot glass of whiskey Val gave him because he could swear Chantilly was coming on to him. “Let’s get you buckled up, Chantilly Lace.” He grabbed blindly for the seatbelt.
Please give me strength.

Chantilly ran her hands over his shoulders, through his hair and knocked his hat off in her mad scramble to explore his body. His hands shook and he fought with the slot on the latch. He inhaled through his nose.
Roses. No, springtime. She wore the fragrance of the fields after a rainstorm.

Click.

She threw her arms around his neck and pulled him to her breasts. He groaned. Closing his eyes, he nuzzled the softness of her body before coming to his senses.
Stay in control, man.

Untangling himself from her grasp, he stepped back, shut the door and walked to the back of the truck. “How the hell am I supposed to keep my hands off her?” He paused against the tailgate and adjusted his jeans. He reached for his hat and realized she’d knocked it off in the truck. Throwing back his shoulders, he marched to the driver’s side door. He just needed to get her home. It was a simple task.
I can do this.

“Jack?” Chantilly leaned her head back on the seat. “I challenge you—” she waved her finger out in front of her, “—to ride ol’ Roy.”

He grabbed his hat off the seat and plopped it on his head. After turning the ignition key, he pulled on to Main Street and headed out of town. “Darlin’, you should know by now I don’t swing on that side of the playground. Ol’ Roy will hafta find someone else to get his nut off.” He rolled down the window. Maybe the fresh air would sober her up some, and he’d be able to get her back in the house without waking her father.

A delicate snort came from the other side of the cab. Jack glanced over and whipped his gaze back to the road. Chantilly sat over there rubbing her hands up and down her thighs below her cutoff shorts. He stole another glimpse and swallowed.

“Uh…Chantilly?”

“Mm…?” She stopped moving.

Jack pressed the gas pedal down and sped up now that they’d made it through town. “Do you wanna tell me why you hate my guts?” He glanced back over.

Chantilly frowned and crossed her arms. “I don’t…I can’t…You could’ve—I don’t wanna talk ’bout it. That’s between Daddy and me.” She sniffed and turned toward the passenger-side window.

Yeah, that makes everything clear as rain, darlin’.
Jack rubbed the back of his neck and pulled his hat down farther.

The truck cab grew quiet except for the occasional sniffle. Jack glanced over at Chantilly.
Oh, damn.

He flipped on his blinker, glanced in his rearview mirror and pulled over, hitting his brakes. His stomach muscles tightened.
Aw hell.

Dust curled around the vehicle and he cut the engine. He pushed the button on her seatbelt. “Come here, darlin’.” He held out his hand. “Don’t cry.”

Chantilly scooted barely two inches, pitched her upper body over and buried her head in his lap. He grunted and forced himself to stay looking at the road.
Oh sweet Lord.
He shifted farther back into the seat cushion, but she was determined to use his upper leg to lay her troubled head.
Holy shit. She scrambled her brain riding that dang bull. She doesn’t know what she’s doing to me.
He glanced down and hurried to lift his chin and think about anything else other than the way her curls fell across his legs.
Think ’bout winter. Cold. Snow. Blizzards. Freezing to death.
He exhaled.
Okay. I can do this.
He swallowed.
Oh hell, who am I foolin’?

Keeping his hands to himself wasn’t going to work. He touched the top of her head. Soft strands of the most beautiful gold hair curled around his pinky. He sighed.
What am I gonna do with you, Chantilly?

Chantilly’s shoulders trembled and she mewed in what seemed like a desperate attempt not to give in to the tears wanting to bubble out. He stroked her hair, her shoulder and the gentle curve down to her hip. It didn’t make sense that his arrival brought out so much anger. McDougal swore that none of his daughters knew the reason behind his taking the foreman’s job. For all she knew, she should be carefree and happy. Yet she almost acted as if he was here to take away her place on the ranch. Surely Stuart would have relieved any of her fears.

“Jack?” Chantilly rolled onto her back.

He flinched at the sadness written on her face and used his thumb to swipe away the tears under her eyes. “Yes, darlin’?”

“Why?”

One simple question that could mean so many different things. Why was he working for her daddy? Why did they shoot sparks anytime they were near each other? Why did he haul her out of the bar?

“There are reasons for everything, I suppose.” He slipped his hand underneath her back and helped her back up. “Let’s get you home.”

She scooted across the bench seat and gazed out the window. “I don’t understand anything.”

“That makes both of us, darlin’,” he whispered.

The rest of the way home, Chantilly stared solemnly out the window, no longer crying but lost in her own world. Between trying to figure out what thoughts circled that pretty head of hers and keeping the truck on the right side of the road, it was the longest ten-minute ride of his life.

Jack rolled the truck toward the house with the engine off. Despite Chantilly being a full-fledged adult and able to drink in excess whenever she pleased, he didn’t want to add any more worry to McDougal’s plate. The man had enough on his mind without adding a tipsy daughter to his problems.

Chantilly remained motionless as Jack strolled around the front of the pickup and opened the door. He held out his hand, but she gazed at it without making a move to climb out of the truck. It bothered the hell out of him to see her so solemn. He hoped in the morning she’d get her spunk back and give him a good dressing down for ruining her evening.

He cupped her face in his hands and tilted her head. “I hate that I’m the reason behind all your confusion, Chantilly. If I could ride away without looking back, I’d do it in a heartbeat to make you have a smile on your face again.”

Her brows drew together and formed a couple of tiny wrinkles above the bridge of her nose. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

“Because you are a kind and beautiful woman, darlin’.” He grinned. “Despite all that anger burning under your clothes.”
And the truth is I can’t help how the sugar-and-spice attitude gets me hot just imagining all that passion aimed at me.

“It’s not you I’m mad at. It’s…” She rubbed her forehead. “I don’t know. It’s confusing. I don’t understand anything anymore. Daddy’s gone crazy and is always disappearing. You tease and distract me something fierce…” Chantilly heaved a sigh. “Maybe I’m losing my mind.”

She swung her legs out and grabbed Jack. “Whoa!” Her pert little nose wrinkled and she snorted. “Did Val spike my drink?” Placing her hands on Jack’s shoulders, she leaned against him. “I bet she did. She and Florentine used to do that just for laughs, you know.”

“Here. I’ll help you.” Jack scooped her up and carried her up the steps to the wraparound porch. “Let’s sneak you inside. I don’t think you want your dad finding out who is tucking you into bed tonight.”