Drawn to a Cowboy (Brother Duet #1) (3 page)

I almost started laughing with her, thinking of being kids and playing games (tag, hide and seek, follow the leader) or hearing stories. She was truly fucking with my mind, I thought, as I began to think about Hansel and Gretel with their trail of bread crumbs, maybe that one wasn’t right, they were laying a trail to find their way back home, but they did almost end up in an oven. Lured with promises of treats by a stranger. That wasn’t a completely logical example, however, I wasn’t thinking logical where she was concerned. Maybe the pied piper luring the rats to the river was a better one.
Shit, that sounded bad!
Oh I know, Cowboys and Indians; my brother, the Indian, always tricked me into following his clues then he ambushed me, that’s kind of creepy, too. I swear, I was thinking of these things in an innocent way, I would never hurt or harm her—I only thought of pleasuring her immensely when I looked at her.

There was still time for either of us to change our minds. She could turn out of the parking lot in the opposite direction. I could gun it and leave her in the dust. Neither thing happened, I pulled out on to the highway heading east, and her sport utility vehicle trailed after me. Yep, a hotter than hot, crayon-red haired woman with an amazing body was following me home, and I was having a hard time focusing on the road.

I had visions of her undressed, spread out on my bed before nightfall in my brain. Nope, that was not happening, not that night, or ever. She was going to stay in one of the ranch hand rooms, out in the barn—far from me and my fantasies. All of the cabins were currently rented so that was the only option to accommodate her. Once one opened, it would be hers for the duration of her employment. I should’ve offered her the use of a guest room in my house, but that was not a good idea.

Needing to get my mind back on track, I made mental to-do lists in my mind. After talking to my brother, I had things to reorganize with the lodge kitchen. He and I talked about his involvement with the ranch. Bringing in new staff, menus, making the offerings more gourmet, but still rustic country. Inventory time: What did I have already? What did he need? Though I wasn’t a foodie like him, I did like fresh food, good food. Though we had a pretty decent menu at the ranch, I agreed that it could use a bit of updating. I was actually looking forward to working with Spencer, my brother.

I had just taken full control of the place in the last year and I was slowly, but surely making changes. Keeping what was working, improving the rest. My list was forever being added to. The last meeting with attorneys in LA had my mind reeling. Things were airtight, but there was the possibility of another person coming forward. The two pains in the asses were shit out of luck, greedy bastards—never liked them from the moment they showed up. I had the overwhelming urge to punch one of them, or better yet, slam the two bastards’ heads together.

Flashing headlights from Jade’s car behind me brought my blood pressure back down while reminding me of my newest pretty dilemma.
I can do this.
A quick restroom break then we would continue our journey down the highway. She was just another employee. Back on the road, I began to put together a list for her too: Paint the barn, stables, corral, the horses, some of the wildflowers, a meadow, a tent, ten cabins, one painting per cabin. How many for the lodge? How long did it take her per painting? Yes, making lists was good, I needed to stick to business thoughts.

But I couldn’t lie to myself, it was difficult as hell to keep focused on our business relationship when I saw her constantly in my rearview mirror. I dare or challenge any heterosexual male to look at her and not think unprofessional, carnal thoughts. My brain had turned to total mush over the last few hours, first sitting and talking with Jade over one of the most enjoyable meals I had ever shared with a woman. She was thoroughly entertaining. Then knowing she was only a mere car length away, following me, suddenly, I hoped that she would take a very long time to complete her work on the ranch.
How long could I keep her busy? Maybe I could get her more jobs in the area.
Good thinking!
I shook my head, and got back to adding to my mental lists. They took me away from her beauty and lessened the ache I felt for her.
Yes, keep telling yourself that. Let’s face it, Sage, you’re in trouble with this one.

Jade

I
couldn’t believe that I had followed a stranger to lunch, agreed to work for him, then got in my car to follow him for miles through the desert to his ranch. Seriously, I’ve seen those scary movies how they lured teens to the woods, and then brought out the knives and chainsaws. Don’t talk to strangers! Don’t take candy from strangers! Don’t get into cars with strangers! At least I was in my own car, right? I don’t think that really made a difference if he was a psycho killer, I was following him.

Not crazy. I was not insane. I was a pretty good judge of character. I was around strangers all the time, only they were putting their faith in my hands. Growing up on the beach, new people always came into town. When your family owns a local surf shop and offered surfing lessons, you were always in the company of strangers. Well trained in surfing by the time I was a teenager, I gave lessons too. So, don’t talk to strangers really was never said very often.

The cowboy in front of me seemed like a genuinely nice person. He didn’t give off any spooky vibes—being near him, I got just the opposite feeling. Like, if I’d met him in a different situation, let’s say a bar and he offered me a drink, he might have been getting a reward for quenching my thirst. He was not only kind, but hot as hell! I nearly lost all control and threw myself into his lap when he sucked sauce that was on my lips from his thumb. It was a good thing we weren’t riding in the same car, but then again, it was a damn shame he was hidden by his truck. I could’ve sat for hours and stared into his dazzling blue eyes. His body looked awfully fit in his clothes. Imagining that fine slab of man wearing only his cowboy hat with a hint of light brown hair beneath had me tingling and humming. I had to laugh when I realized what song was vibrating on my lips, and my thoughts turned instantly to someone else.

I felt like Jinxie when I found myself singing “I wanna be a cowgirl… so you can be my cowboy…” following one hot, ass cowboy across the desert.
Ha!
That song always made me think of her. Funny though, she never liked cowboys or Western movies. When she caught me watching one, she flipped it off or walked out of the room. But I often caught her with a smile… or sometimes a frown on her face singing or humming how she wanted to be a cowgirl.

She was so excited when I announced that I was packing up and hitting the road to find a cowboy. Not exactly my full plan, but I figured there was a much better chance of finding one in Arizona than in my hometown, along the Pacific Ocean. A
real
cowboy. I was sure she wasn’t cheering me on to find a man. No, she was jumping up and down, clapping about the road trip element.

Jinxie loved hitting the open highway with her surf buddies as a teenager. Her mother and father hated it. After her first escape alone at eighteen there was no stopping her, she was an adult, she had her own transportation, and she had her own money. They worried like crazy waiting for her to check in with them from some payphone she stumbled upon. The invention of cellular phones made them very happy, but communication was the least of their worries, really. Gone on her first road trip for the entire summer of ’84, she returned with me implanted in her womb.

After I was born they begged her not to take me on the road. They’d known her long enough to know she was ready to roam. She promised for a couple of years. Once I was up and walking everywhere though, off we went. I was too young to remember where she took me. But I’ve seen photos of Jinxie and me together in unfamiliar places until I was old enough to talk about our adventures. Spilling too many details, she stopped taking me on certain road trips.

I understood the appeal of traveling alone, when I left home a couple days ago, I loved the solitude. Playing my current favorite Pandora
Lady Antebellum
station, I loved to sing along—whether I could carry a tune or not. Singing loud and perhaps the wrong words, made up ones and maybe a bit off key, no one corrected me or told me to shut the hell up.
Ha!

Being on my own timetable, I could stop when I wanted. I knew when I had to be at the hotel, so I planned to photograph some of the red rock areas, and hit a spa resort in Sedona before I began work. I checked in to the beautiful L’Auberge. Such a beautiful place, I wished that that was the location I would be painting. Listening to the stream running through the property was so relaxing, soothing, calming. Especially when it was lulling me practically to sleep while I enjoyed an outdoor massage the following day.

First thing in the morning, I sat outside on the patio enjoying a light breakfast before heading out with my camera in hand. I snapped a number of photos around the resort as I made my way to the car.
Damn! Six months living and painting at that location would be awesome.
I sighed as I started the engine.

Heading in one direction, I went to a popular place for jumping off rocks into what looked like dangerous water below. A lot of people were doing it. I wanted to hold my breath every time someone sailed through the air, then went down, down, down. The splash sound was a relief, I didn’t want to hear splat. Apparently a few days before, three boys drowned while trying to save each other. That’s what I heard as I stood and watched a bit too long, as my nerves were getting frazzled.

Moving on to an area filled with red rock formations, I began to snap away, again. Some of the rocks reminded me of the beach. Sitting in the wet sand just out of the waves’ reach, dripping wet clumps on top of each other to build, what else, a sandcastle. Nature was incredible. Big sculptures, created by Mother Nature, set against a bright cobalt blue sky. I loved the greenery that grew around the area. And the wildflowers that just spurted up here and there. I wished that I had brought my portable paint kit. I wished I had more time to sit and sketch—to stroke my brush across a sheet of watercolor paper. However, I would have to be happy with painting what I had captured on film, in my spare time.

Speaking of time, it was almost the pampering hour. Stopping for a yummy ice cream cone down the road from the resort, I sat looking at the little town while sitting on a bench. So different from the beach. No cool breeze blowing off the ocean. Just a lot of heat that was creating a sweat on my brow and a sticky mess running down my hand. One more lick and the rest of my cone was tossed in a trash can.

Stripped of the sugary disaster, I hopped in the shower for a brief wash down to clean up and cool off before strong hands worked out the kinks in my body. Though it was a little strange at first to be naked in the open, I quickly melted into the table positioned near the ever rushing stream. It was the calm before the storm, the damn cancellation!

I was pretty sure mergers didn’t just suddenly happen overnight. I wasn’t knowledgeable with corporations and how they worked, but I had driven a long way. I had packed up all of my shit. I was ready to leave the nest. I knew I could’ve gone back home, but I wanted to start living my life. Not that I had been home for long, but the two years that I lived in Paris wasn’t exactly the life that I had envisioned.

Then why did I go to France? People asked me that all the time when I returned. They all wanted to hear how
fantastique
it was, and it was, but it was only for schooling purposes, purely an art thing, besides I was longing for an adventure—which didn’t surprise my family, they knew it was in my blood. So when the opportunity came along, I grabbed the brass ring, and took off with not a lick of French under my belt. Needless to say, besides art courses, I enrolled in a français class. It was truly a great experience, the teachers and my fellow students were incredible.

I learned many new techniques, as well as old world methods used by the great artists before me, I doubted that I would ever apply to my style of paintings, but you never knew—knowledge is everything. I honed my skills, finding my niche in watercolor landscape paintings. Not your typical pastel version, but with the use of darker, bolder color achieved with watercolor and acrylic paints along with black ink added for highlighting, bolding and outlining elements on heavy paper. I also did some required paintings on canvas which I was able to ship home and sell through the Paris branch of the American based ODE Galleries.

Taking full advantage of being in Paris, I submerged myself in the culture, the wine, the food and the beauty of the city too, but when my time was up, I was ready, I wanted to be back in the states, out in the countryside.

I was heading in that direction as I drove behind the cowboy…
my cowboy!?