Page 1 of My Cowboy Kiss (Lucky River Cowboys #4)

Courtney

I flip the visor down to check my appearance in the mirror.

Scowling at the shadows beneath my eyes, I reach into my bag to grab my concealer.

I slept through my alarm this morning thanks to my drunk wreck of a mother.

I had to pry her off the floor of yet another bar where she’d worn out her welcome.

It was three in the morning before I chased off the latest asshole crashing in her house and got her settled.

Then I drove back to Lucky River, and it took me forever to fall asleep.

“Thank God I finished that big project yesterday,” I mutter to myself as I finish applying the concealer.

I pop it into my bag and square my shoulders reminding myself to stand tall the way I always have since my mom’s drunken antics started making the town news when I was a teenager.

Growing up living with her is why I don’t trust love or relationships.

I grope around in the cup holder for my usual latte then remember because I was running late, I had to skip my usual run. I’ll just have to get my fix inside. Hopefully Mark has already gotten his coffee so I won’t bump into him.

As soon as I enter Red Stilettos marketing company, I swear the temperature is about twenty degrees cooler than the warm June day outside the front door.

I greet everyone but no one responds. Weird. I look down at my outfit. I’m wearing my usual work attire—dress slacks and a pretty blouse. I’m not in my fuzzy pajamas like my tired brain feared.

“Uh oh. Did I leave something undone last night?” I’m in charge of the campaign featuring Dough Corner’s one of a kind of cinnamon rolls.

I could’ve sworn I triple checked everything before I sent the work off to the art director.

We’ve all put in a lot of long hours lately and if I accidentally dropped the ball before a big deadline, my coworkers would not be happy with me.

“Haven’t you been online since you left yesterday?” Stacy asks, crossing her arms and giving me that look like she’s royalty speaking to a commoner.

She’s been a thorn in my side—which is the polite Southern way of saying pain in my ass—since I started working here. Apparently, her cousin was fired from the graphic designer position I took over.

“No, I haven’t. I was busy.” Busy. That’s the word I’ve been using since I was in high school cleaning up my mom’s man-stealing messes. I can’t hang out, I’m busy. I won’t be at the game, I’m busy.

“I’ll bet you were busy ,” Stacy says rolling her eyes.

What the ever-loving fuck is going on with her today? She’s more Stacy than usual. Ignoring her, I head into the kitchen to get some coffee. I drop a pod into the machine, and it starts brewing my sweet nectar. I’m inhaling the life-saving scent when Mark strolls in.

He’s one of those middle-aged guys who never left high school behind. Unfortunately, he’s also one of the people my boss Allison labeled “an integral part of the company” and she hinted she might take him on as a business partner, so I try not to get on his bad side.

“Looking good, Courty.”

I grit my teeth at the nickname he thinks is funny and move aside so he can reach into the cabinet for a mug. His usual overpowering cologne assaults my senses.

He gets a cup down then taps a finger on my forearm. Leaning closer, he whispers, “Say the word and I’ll be glad to help you out.”

Whatever the problem is with the project, he’s the last person I’d ask anything from. “I’ll take care of it myself.” Creep.

His eyes widen and he smirks as he draws back. “Ooh…what I wouldn’t give to see that.”

Shaking my head, I carry the warm cup between my hands as I go to my desk.

Instead of sticking with the old town charm of Lucky River like most businesses did, this building has been updated and modernized with high-end flooring and white walls that are covered with large canvas prints of my boss.

The only thing she loves more than money is herself.

I sit in the funky art deco chair with its unyielding, narrow seat that Allison insists makes a statement. I’m sure the statement is that she has no concern for anyone’s comfort.

Kicking off my flats and pushing them under the desk, I yawn and click the file to pull up the project from yesterday. After I take a sip of coffee, I begin scanning my work, looking for anything I might have missed.

Stacy materializes by me like a wraith. “Check the town business forum.”

Her twisted smile says she’s loving whatever she’s holding back.

I pull the site up and there I am . I stifle a gasp not willing to give Stacy the satisfaction of knowing how stunned I am. “What is this?”

A photo of me walking closely behind Allison’s boyfriend pops up. I’m smiling at his back because he just told me he’s going to propose to my boss next weekend. He’s planning an elaborate proposal that’s sure to be the talk of the town, which will make her very happy.

Beneath the photo, one comment reads Courtney Evans is so desperate for men, she’s stalking this one.

Another commenter tags my boss on social media and replies Looks like she’s up to her old tricks again. Like mother, like daughter .

Comment after comment slashes at me.

My face burns and the sip of coffee churns in the pit of my stomach. This is just like in high school when my mom showed up drunk and stumbled onto the stage during a school assembly. There’s nowhere to hide from the cruelty.

I scroll down the page and there’s another picture.

Then another. Each of them saying I come on to men whether they’re in a relationship or not.

The last photo is one of me laughing while talking to Junior York when we were waiting in line at the hardware store.

His wife hates my mama because she thinks Junior was involved with her.

Who the hell was taking these photos?

“Is this who you were busy doing?” Stacy puts her hand to her mouth and bats her eyes.

Ah…mystery solved.

“I squeezed him in right after your boyfriend.” I smirk back refusing to show weakness. Hold it together, Courtney. You can cry later.

She flounces off and the rest of the morning passes in a blur.

When it’s lunch time, I’m grateful for the excuse to finally leave the office and the whispering of my colleagues behind.

I put on an oversized pair of sunglasses I unearth from the trunk of my car and keep my head down as I walk along the sidewalk.

In front of the library, I get a glare from a woman after the man she’s walking hand in hand with leers at me. I guess he’s read the lies.

“Don’t you look at my husband,” the woman snarls, hands on hips, her eyes flashing fire.

“Hold onto your tongue, Courtney. No good comes from fighting back when you’ve got a mama like yours.

The school counselor’s advice pops into my head.

She was wrong. Keeping quiet never did me a lick of good.

The hyenas grew bolder, ripping my skin to get to my heart.

Once I left Clover County and transferred to Lucky River High, I thought all that drama and hurt was behind me.

“Why are you mouthing at me when he’s the sleaze?” I look the woman in the eye. “Trust me. He’s safe. I’m not that desperate.”

She says something hateful about me as I walk away. Nothing I haven’t heard before. Haters are never original when they spew insults.

Crossing the street, I put some space between me and Snarly and Sleaze. People are looking at me a little too long and the back of my neck is burning. I need to get out of sight.

My stomach growls and I decide to grab a quick snack and hide out in my car while listening to my favorite songs. Destressing with music has been one of my go-to self-therapies.

The parking lot of the convenience store only has one vehicle which means I shouldn’t have to face down a crowd demanding I make my mama quit breaking up families. That happened on my fifteenth birthday. Not a gift I enjoyed, that’s for sure.

I step in and the cashier gives me a friendly greeting, then continues stocking chips on the shelf.

Claudia Morris, the elderly woman who organizes the town’s yearly Lasso a Cowboy charity event puts an energy drink on the counter and then notices me. “That drink’s not for me. It’s for my boyfriend so he can keep up with me.”

I laugh because she’s always joking that she gets a new, younger man every week. I only laugh because I know she’d prefer joking like that to anyone feeling sorry for her since she became a widow.

As I move toward the beverage cooler, she says, “Don’t you pay that talk any attention. Most of those gab bags are from Clover County or they’re not originally from Lucky River. Folks who grew up here don’t treat people like that.”

“I know.” I choose a cold soda, some chips, then a big chocolate bar because calories don’t count when you’re feeling down. I get in line behind her and continue the conversation. “But the comments are?—”

“Designed to hurt.” Claudia takes her items, then pats the back of my hand. “You square your back, Sugar. You haven’t done anything wrong. Concentrate on your own life and not what morons say.” She jabs me with her elbow. “Especially concentrate on River.”

I hand my debit card to the cashier after she tells me the total. “River? He’s my best friend.”

“He might be your friend but he’s a hell of a hottie.”

“He is,” I agree. River is handsome and as tempting as sin. He’s sweet with a mesmerizing smile and a body built by hard work. I’ve seen him when his jeans were tight and riding low showing off a nice bulge.

I don’t—okay, I try not to—think of seeing that bulge. Time to change the subject before I overheat and turn my cold drink into a heated one.

“I’ll bet he’d be the sweetest boyfriend.”

I can’t think of a woman in this town who’d deserve him. “It’s a wonder why he’s still single,” I say just to keep from dwelling on how much I hate that thought.

Claudia smiles as I put my card back into my pocket. “I said something similar about my late husband before we ended up together. I have a feeling River won’t be single long.”

A guy I once worked with on a design collaboration gets in line behind us. “Who cares if River’s still single. He’s not here and I am.” He grins at me, his gaze resting on my chest. “I hear you’re looking for someone, Courtney. Why don’t I get your number?”

I wince at Claudia, then sigh and say, “I’m not interested.”

Before he can say anything else, Claudia points to her chest and says, “Me and my boobs aren’t interested either.”

While the guy stammers out that he wasn’t looking and wasn’t hitting on Claudia, we leave the store.

“Men like that think brains are an optional accessory,” she says.

“I agree.”

River’s mom, Frances, whips her car into a spot in front of us and we suddenly have to stop.

Her gray hair is in curlers and she’s wearing what she refers to as her don’t-dare-go-out clothes. Ratty jeans and a thin flannel shirt.

She hurries over and wraps her arms around me in a big hug.

“I heard the commotion, honey, and put on my ass-kicking boots and drove like hell to get here. Point me in the right direction and I’ll take care of this.”

I adore River’s mom. She and her husband Gavin adopted him and the rest of the boys and saved them from a hellish situation.

Claudia lowers her voice. “Good thinking, Frances. I’ve got a shovel.”

“We’ll need at least two,” Frances says. “Dammit, I forgot my gloves and those are a must have. There’s that new DNA technology now that can identify a bump on a flea’s ass so we’ll have to buy some.”

I laugh at their comments. “I’m okay, really.”

“Oh, Sugar. Let me give you a lift back to work.” Frances gestures to her car.

I wave away her offer. “It’s not far.” I head back toward Red Stilettos.

“Supper’s always on the table for you,” Frances calls out after me.

“And the shovel’s always in the garage,” Claudia adds.

I wave to them, and continue walking making sure to keep my head down.

My colleagues are quiet as I enter, but I see the questions in their eyes.

Whatever. I don’t have time for this. Even though I finished the project, there’s always something else for me to handle. I’ll just stay busy and keep my mind occupied.

I check my inbox as I nibble on my convenience store snack and see a message from Allison. When I open it, there are a few lines thanking me for everything I’ve done for the company. The last line only has two words: You’re fired.

No …I need this job not only to pay my bills but also to keep secretly paying for what my estranged uncle did to River’s family. He’s their former ranch manager and because he stole from them and forged a loan on the place, they almost lost the ranch.

I leap from my chair and race down the hallway to Allison’s office where I barge in without knocking.

She leans back in her desk, her bright red lipstick a hard slash when she pulls her lips into an unsmiling line.

“It’s all lies! I’m not after your boyfriend.”

Allison calmly regards me and raises one eyebrow. “I don’t believe you. Do you think I haven’t noticed how he’s approached you lately every time he stops by?”

I can’t tell her that’s about the proposal. Not unless I want to blow her big moment.

“I have my own boyfriend,” I lie. Through the big window by her desk, I see River on the other side of the street in tight jeans and his favorite brown cowboy hat. He doesn’t know it yet but he’s my job saver.

Allison crosses her arms. “Uh huh.”

“Seriously. He’s right there.” I point then run outside sprinting to my best friend, hoping he’ll understand the wild thing I’m about to do.

In the middle of the street, I fling myself into his arms and our bodies collide. It’s like slamming against a brick wall. He takes a quick step back from the force of my run, his arms automatically closing around me even as his eyes widen in surprise.

“I dropped everything when I heard and drov?—”

“I love you,” I say loudly, and several people turn their heads to look at us. Then I lift myself onto my tiptoes and kiss him.