Page 9 of Backup Cowboy
Something about the way she didn’t let the llama have the last word makes makes my dick twitch. Women who don’t back down are fucking hot.
Nash cocks his eyebrow at me, then nods to Alex and Cal. “Why don’t you two head into the barn so we can test these out before the rest of us head in there.” He’s smirking like he just roped a wild mustang. What the hell is he up to?
I don’t have time to think about it, though, because the way Alex fills out her denim jeans as she and Cal walk toward the barn makes my blood run hot. How she makes fashion jeans and boots look right at home on the ranch is beyond me. I clench my jaw and force myself to think about anything else: cattle counts, broken fence posts, anything. When Nash clears his throat and shoots me a knowing smirk, it’s enough to snap me back to reality. He did that on purpose.
I pull out my phone and send a quick text.
Me: Real subtle, Boss. Hope you enjoyed your little power trip because I’m letting your horses run wild for a week.
Nash: Please. You love those horses more than I do. You’d be out there at dawn with carrots. Just remember to take Alex with you.
Me: Keep it up, Cupid, and I’ll wear a shirt with a pic of you crying during your wedding vows.
Nash: I’ll wear it with Cas said HE’D wear the shirt, not that he’d get Nash one. pride.
Me: Smug bastard.
I tuck my phone away and key my radio since Alex and Cal are inside the barn. “E5 to B2.”
“B2 here. Copy.”
Then I can’t help myself. After the way she tortured me last night, what’s a guy to do? “E5 to Boots.”
Her voice crackles back, sharp with attitude. “Nope. I do not copy. Try again, E5.”
“E5 to B1.”
“B1 copies. And E5? Your radio etiquette needs work. Stick to the manual, Cowboy.”
Nash and Cage exchange knowing looks while Taryn claps her hands. “You’ve got your hands full, huh, Cowboy Cas?”
All I can do is scratch the back of my neck because… she’s totally right.
Chapter 5
Alexandra
Itake another sip of steaming coffee, impressed at my accommodations. It’s a lodge built in the same style as the rest of the ranch, a mix of limestone quarried from the area with modern wood accents. There’s a library and a small dining room as well as a conference room, which makes business with out of town employees and business partners easy for everyone.
It’s innovative as hell and something I’m going to bring up to Cage. Magnum is scouting land and buildings to expand its Nashville division, and having its own mini hotel would be a great perk for high earning artists.
Even though the idea is great, my shoulders tense. Normally, I’m excited at growth and the promise of new things. I need to dig deeper into this hesitation I’m feeling, but I push it back for now.
My room here at the lodge has a private balcony, which overlooks the vast property. I’m sitting in one of the wooden rockers and reach for my coffee that’s on the small table next to me. I’m up early. I can’t help being an early riser; it’s in my DNA.
Back home in Nashville, I watch the sunrise from my back porch whenever my schedule allows it. The community doesn’t allow fences, and though my driveway wraps around to the back, I don’t have complete privacy. The screened porch gives me the perfect compromise: solitude while still being outdoors.
But I just can’t get over the view here at Echo Ridge. The Texas landscape rolls in hills toward what looks like mountains in the distance. Since I’ve been here, I’ve seen deer, cattle, and fireflies dancing at night. It’s such a special place; I can see why Rebecca and Capri chose to move onto Nash’s and Zane’s ranches instead of wanting something completely new.
As I take another delicious sip of heaven, one of the two cell phones on the table next to me buzzes to life. It’s my work cell, so I pick it up to see that it’s Nash.
Nash: You wanna see the sunrise this morning? Rebecca and I are heading to the ridge.
Me: I’ll be ready in five.
I put on joggers with a matching zip hoodie along with a concert tee and my spring sneakers. I don’t bother with makeup because there’s no time. As I pop my hair into a messy bun, my walkie-talkie crackles to life on the charger in the other room.
“E5 to Boots.”