Page 1 of My Cowboy Boss (Lucky River Cowboys #2)

Arizona

Only one man could make her body— ding! I snap out of the scene I’m writing as the timer goes off for the frozen pizza. I stand and my back protests from the strain of carrying my older sister Aspen’s boxes and furniture up the stairs to the apartment we share as of last night.

“I never liked that jerk she dated,” I say as I pass the sofa where my cat, Panda, lifts her head to blink sleepily at me. “And if I see him again…” I pump my hand into a fist.

Panda meows her approval. “Yeah, that’s right. You’ve got my back, don’t you, good kitty?”

I thread my way around a stack of boxes to grab the oven mitts shaped like sharks from the drawer and slide the pizza from the oven.

“Hot…hot…” I need to get new mitts. I’ll have to add that to the list of things I can’t afford right now. My goal is paying off my college debt and getting out of this crappy place.

“Things are going to get better, right?”

Panda stands, stretches and curls back up against one of the pillows. She watches me move about and I smile at my fur companion. I’ve had her since she was a kitten after finding her near a dumpster.

Music with a loud bass starts thumping on the wall behind the stove, rattling the window facing the back parking lot. Not again. I had hoped the neighbors weren’t going to have another party. It’s like that’s their full-time job.

Besides the noise, I don’t want them to keep my sister awake once she goes to bed tonight. After that nasty breakup, she needs her rest. She’s always watched out for me and now it’s my turn to take care of her.

I reach for a plate and my phone rings. I swipe the icon and tuck the phone against my shoulder as I search the refrigerator for something to drink. “Hello?”

Hospital.

Your sister.

Car accident.

I drop the plate, and the pizza slice skitters across the worn tile floor.

I’m standing in the kitchen one minute and the next I’m at the hospital rushing through the sliding doors. I don’t know how I got here. My brain feels like it’s stuffed with cotton. My heart is slamming against my ribcage.

Be okay, be okay, don’t leave me, please be okay, I pray to the fluorescent lights as I run down the hallway in the emergency room. This can’t be happening …our lives were upended after our parents died in a car accident when I was fourteen and she was eighteen. Not again…please…

A nurse speaks to me. Her lips move but I can’t comprehend her words.

The curtain is pulled back, and my sister lies there on the bed. On legs that feel like wet noodles I make my way to her side.

Her face is a map of bruises and dried blood. One eye is swollen half shut. I gasp, feeling light-headed.

She tries to smile but it comes out as a grimace. “I told them not to call you until I was cleaned up.” Her words are slowed by the swelling and come out partially garbled.

Even in this state, she’s still trying to protect me the way she’s always done.

I remember after the funeral how I hid in the attic alone.

Despite her fear of heights, she climbed up the ladder and put her arms around me.

We spent the night in the dusty attic barely speaking a word.

We were two sailors thrown into a sea of grief.

I pull myself together and paste on a smile. She was strong for me then. I’ll be strong for her now. “I’m fine. I’m glad you’re okay.”

Aspen bursts into tears, and my heart squeezes. I have to find a way to fix this for my sister.

I gingerly hug her, not wanting to hurt her bruised body, but I really want to hold on tightly and never let go. “What did the doctor say?”

“They’re getting me ready for surgery for my broken leg and arm,” she sobs.

“It’s okay. You’ll come through it.” She’s okay, she’s okay. That’s all that matters.

“I’m not worried about the surgery,” she says through the tears.

I pull back to reach into my purse for a tissue then gently pat it against her face.

“You’ll get through this. I’ll take you to the bookstore,” I joke.

It’s an inside joke between the two of us.

Whenever I was upset in high school, Aspen always took me to the bookstore and bought me a new novel.

Getting lost in fiction was how I survived the grief after losing our parents.

My sister hiccups softly. “I’m supposed to start that new job.”

My sister lost her previous job because of her asshole ex.

“Don’t worry about that. We’ll figure it out.

We’ve always gotten through everything together,” I promise her even as a knot forms in my stomach.

I know we can’t afford her bills and mine on the little I make working the counter at the coffee shop.

I only graduated from college a few months ago and my car needs work sooner rather than later.

“That office manager position on that ranch in Lucky River is my dream job,” she explains.

I know what it means to her. It’s her big F-U to her cheating boyfriend who told her that unlike him, she’d never make it on her own. Kind of ironic given that he’s a nepo baby.

I don’t get a chance to respond before a woman breezes in. “Here’s the insurance card and ID.” She glances down at it, then looks at me as she hands the items over. “Wow. You two could be twins.”

Though there’s a four year age difference between us, my sister and I do look a lot alike. Same hairstyle, same eyes. We even have some of the same mannerisms. She’s a little taller than I am though.

An idea forms. I know my sister won’t like it but it’s the best chance to save the job she wants.

As soon as the woman leaves, I say, “You heard her. We look alike. I can take the job for you.”

“You can’t do that. You don’t have the training or knowledge,” Aspen protests weakly, but I don’t miss the flicker of wishfulness in her voice.

“No, but it’s not as if you’ll be where I can’t reach you. When I have an issue, you’ll be my phone-an-expert,” I reassure her. She’s had such a rough year losing her job and apartment because of that cheating asshole and now this.

If it’ll help Aspen for me to show up and pretend to be her for a little while, then I can manage that.

“But our personalities are different, and we don’t dress anything alike,” she says though the fact she’s even mentioning this instead of outright refusing means she’s considering it.

My sister prefers a classic fashion style while I’m more comfortable in jeans and whatever shirt I find.

“That’s true, but I’ll wear your clothes and heels. I can be you, Sis.”

She frowns, then sucks in a breath when it clearly hurts. She blinks back fresh tears. “I maxed out my credit card. I don’t even know how I’m going to pay for these new expenses.”

“That’s another reason I should do this. Now, don’t fret anymore. I’ll be happy to earn money working for a hot cowboy.” I wiggle my eyebrows in the way she always finds amusing.

Aspen barely smiles and holds my gaze as she asks, “And what happens when I’m healed?”

“Then we’ll swap again.” I reach for her hand. “No one will ever know.”