Page 14 of Backup Cowboy

“Is that how you feel right now?”

She doesn’t answer. She just watches the water as if it holds the answers she’s seeking.

“To answer your question, yes. I came to visit my sister right after my divorce for some perspective. Turns out, staying was the fresh start I didn’t know I needed.”

“I’m glad for you.”

She kicks her foot out to splash at me. The droplets catch the sunlight on her bare legs, and I have to force myself to focus on her words instead of the way the water makes her skin glisten. “Thank you for accompanying me here.”

“You’re welcome.”

As we wade back, Alex reaches for my arm for balance, the simple touch sending heat straight through me.

She’s brilliant and funny and completely out of my league. And she doesn’t seem to care that I work with my hands. And as we drive away, I can still feel the warmth of her touch, and I realize I’m in deeper trouble than I thought.

Chapter 7

Alexandra

“Let’s take thirty and meet back here.”

Cal looks up from his iPad. “Bless you. This protein bar is clearly mislabeled. It says chocolate chip, but it’s basically sawdust with a wrapper.”

I point to the fruit tray that was set out for us, but Cal just waves it off. “Only grapes and melon are left.”

We’ve been reviewing artist itineraries all morning in the lodge conference room, and my brain is scrambled. It’s not quite lunch time, but I need some solitude. “I’m going to drive over to The Boot Roost to view progress. You can catch me on the radio.”

I grab my bottle of water as Cal nods and head outside.

Today’s a bit cloudy with a small chance of light rain. I grab my umbrella and hop into the UTV that Zane gave me and Cal to use this week. By now, I’ve got the path from the lodge to the artists’ compound memorized, and I enjoy the drive. No billboards or neon signs greet me, just rolling pastures and wildflowers.

When I pull up, a newly erected entrance arch spans the drive, its massive wooden sign branded with Welcome to TheBoot Roost. The artists will love it. A crew is setting up a large marquee tent in the center of the bus site, which is where meals will be catered. Needing some peace and quiet, I park at the practice barn and head inside.

“Oh, hey.”

Caspian looks up with a half-smile. He’s busy securing cables with zip ties, his muscles flexing under a plain white tee. The shirt stretches tight across his broad shoulders, his round biceps straining the seams with each subtle movement. His forearms are corded with thick muscle, his veins building as his strong hands move with an ease that makes it way too easy to picture them gripping my body.

To top it off, his denim jeans cling to every muscle in his legs, and when he leans forward, it pulls tight across his cute butt. I nearly bite through my lip to keep quiet. His scuffed boots, the tilt of his hat, the way his jaw tightens with focus... every move is so deliberate, so sure, it makes my skin feel too tight from picturing all that intensity turned on me.

“Like what you see, Boots?”

“Shut it.”

I walk over to one of the peacock blue couches next to the side window, the velvety fabric soft as I sink down. I pull off my boots, plunk my feet onto the low, square coffee table, and close my eyes, thankful for a few minutes away from my computer.

“You look like you could use this.”

I open my eyes to see Caspian holding out a bottle of mineral water from the makeshift kitchenette, which now has a glass fridge stocked with a variety of drinks and yogurts.

“Thank you.” Our fingers brush as he hands it over, and I’m not sure if the chill running down my spine is from him or the icy glass.

He motions to the adjacent club chair. “Mind if I join you?”

“Not at all.” I take a few gulps of water before setting it on the table. “Has it really only been twenty-four hours since we were skipping rocks?”

“Hard to believe, Boots.” Caspian’s massive frame fills the chair as he sits back, his ankle resting on the opposite knee. “Momentum’s picking up around here. All the moving parts are lining up just right. This thing’s gonna be one hell of a show.”

We only have two days left until artists start arriving, and beginning this afternoon, my focus will shift to the kickoff party that Nash and the label are hosting over at Twisted Whiskey. My assistant, Bree, is flying out here tomorrow to work with Cal so that I am free to handle whatever comes up.