Page 10 of Ride Me Cowboy (Coyote Creek Ranch #1)

“Just a friendly greeting,” Beau contradicts, echoing my gesture and standing. “Ma’am,” he grins at Beth, taking it one step further and moving closer to her so he can hold back a chair. I ignore the unmistakable looping of disappointment that I didn’t get there first.

“Oh, thanks,” she says, biting into her full lower lip. A lip that made it damn hard to sleep last night, as I kept imagining her dragging it over my body. All over my body. I curse inwardly, staring at her longer and harder than is polite, before sitting my ass back down and reaching for my beer.

“I…hope it’s still okay that I came here,” she says, addressing me, across the table that’s littered with drinks in various states of being consumed, and a bowl of half-eaten nachos.

Wise up, asshat. You’re making her feel even more awkward.

“Sure it is, honey,” Beau beats me to it—again. Where women are concerned, he has the timing of a Swiss clock and the balls of a prize bull. “Ain’t nothing but a few drinks with friends.”

“I just—I thought—I haven’t eaten, and Cole said?—,”

“I’ll grab you a menu,” I offer, standing up again, before remembering the relocation of my blood and throwing a grateful glance at my pants to confirm that things have returned—more or less—to normal.

Jesus. I stride away quickly though, toward the bar, dropping my head once I get there and staring at the counter.

It’s topped in glass and underneath, there are dozens and dozens of photos, taken over the years, of locals and regulars.

I spot my dad and let my eyes rest there a moment.

This picture of him usually grounds me, but not tonight.

Truth is, I don’t know what he’d say to me right now.

Maybe I didn’t know my old man like I thought I did?

I sure as shit had no idea he was hiding the ranch’s desperate financial situation from me the way he was.

“What’ll it be, Cole?” Randy approaches, resting his elbows on the bar opposite.

“Just a couple of menus,” I mutter. And then, realizing I should have offered Beth a drink, I glance at the fridges behind him.

Does she drink? She had a beer, that night she made mac and cheese.

But would she prefer wine? Should I go and ask her what she wants?

Christ, just grow a pair and get the lady something cold.

“I’ll take a glass of white wine as well.”

“Chardonnay?”

I glance at the multiple labels in the fridge and nod, hoping she likes it. But if not, I’ll grab her something else. This is not a life-or-death situation.

When I return to the table, Beth is talking to Caleb, and I’m glad, because unlike Beau, he can string a few words together without having it devolve into a slew of cheesy pick-up lines.

Mind you, you can’t argue with Beau’s charm, because I don’t remember the last time he wasn’t running around with someone.

And you might think that’d be problematic in a small town like Goodnight, but it’s a testament to his easy-going nature that I’ve never heard of any broken hearts or angry exes.

I place the glass of wine in front of Beth, then a menu, and when she glances up at me and our eyes lock, I feel it again.

Just like I did in the office. A surge of something.

A shot of adrenalin that pumps through my whole body, from the tips of my toes, to my belly, and out to my fingers and scalp, like the first time I got up on a bull and felt the rush of power as it bucked me.

It’s an awareness of my own vitality, like a forcible reminder that I’m here and alive, that there’s a purpose to being on this earth.

“Thanks.” She smiles up at me. A smile that’s awkward—nervous and tinged with something like fear, or anxiety—that makes me want to drag her against me and kiss her until she doesn’t feel anything but pleasure.

I take a step backwards, resolutely shoving my hands in my pocket. “Chardonnay okay?”

She nods, eyes still on me. “I love Chardonnay.”

“Great.” I stand there like a goof for a few more seconds before I realize everyone’s looking at me, and quickly hightail it back to my seat, handing out menus without meeting Beau’s eyes, which I know will be full of amusement. Damn that brother of mine and how well he gets me.

Sure enough, a few minutes later, when everyone else is talking to Beth about Goodnight’s most famous cowboy Dale Carnaby, Beau leans closer and lifts his beer to his lips, hovering it over them to hide his mouth.

“Well, well, well, if my big bro ain’t gone and gotten himself a fat ol’ crush.”

I glare at him. “Just because you can’t keep it in your pants doesn’t mean the rest of us are like you.”

“Oh, I know you’re not like me,” he says, still grinning in that infuriating way of his. “But then, I reckon she’s not like anyone you’ve ever met, either.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Beautiful, sophisticated yet vulnerable. She’s got that whole damsel in distress thing going on, but she’s smart and interesting to boot.”

I straighten, the description of Beth pretty damned accurate.

It’s the ‘vulnerable’ descriptor that really floors me though, because Beau is right.

No matter how much I try to fight it, I’m too much like our old man.

Show me a person going through a tough time, and I want to save them.

Show me a woman like Beth, who’s obviously running from something, and I want to make it all better.

Or, in Beth’s case, to kiss it all better.

“She works for us, Beau,” I snap, more sharply than I mean to. “And she’s not interested.”

“You already asked her out?”

“I asked her here, didn’t I?”

Beau snorts. “Well, now, I know it’s been a gosh darn while since you took a lady on a date, but if you think that includes me, Caleb and Mack, that’s really not gonna get a girl out of her boots—and into yours.”

I nudge my knee against his , but a bit too hard, because his other leg hits the corner of the table, and our drinks shake. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Beth flinch. Skittish like a colt, I think, again.

“So, this is where you come to unwind?” she asks, eyes flicking to me now, on a slight puff of breath, including me in the conversation, so I can’t very well dig back into things with Beau.

“Most weeks,” Austin agrees.

“Most nights,” Caleb adds.

“You make us sound like a bunch of drunks,” Beau complains, but with a wink at Beth.

She holds her hands up, palms out, and smiles. “No judgement. I’m just curious. You know,” she glances around. “This is just different to what I’m used to.”

“How’re you liking ranch life?” Caleb asks.

“I mean, I haven’t really been out on the ranch, but I love my view of it.”

“Your view of it,” Beau splutters. “From the window, you mean?”

Beth nods. “It’s strikingly beautiful. The wildness of those mountains, the forest, it almost breaks your heart.” Her voice is so wistful that I feel it deep in my heart. Her love for this landscape is unexpectedly warming.

Careful, cowboy, she’s got a home she loves, and it’s halfway across the country.

“Well, that’s no good. You can’t just be on a ranch and not see it for yourself. Why don’t you come out with us tomorrow?”

Mack snorts before she can stop herself, earning a reproving glance from Caleb and me. She offers a quick grimace in my direction, by way of an apology.

“You think I won’t like it?” Beth asks Mack, having missed nothing.

Mack looks at me again and apparently heeds the warning in my eyes because she chooses her answer carefully. “I think it’s tougher than it looks.”

Beth’s shoulders dip slightly. She looks, for the briefest moment, crestfallen.

“You’re probably right,” she says, in a soft voice, with a polite smile, as she reaches for her wine, and my whole body seems to catch fire.

“We’re not talking about getting you to string fences,” I hear myself say. “You ever been on a horse, Beth?”

She turns to face me, and I see her slender throat shift as she swallows. Her eyes are swarming with feeling. Anxiety, uncertainty, gratitude. My gut rolls.

What the hell am I getting myself into?

She shakes her head. “Until I met Rowdy, I’d never even touched one.”

Beau lets out a low whistle. “What a deprived life you’ve led, Manhattan.”

The smile she flicks him is less complicated than the looks she gives me.

And way more natural. The knot in my stomach tightens, and morphs into something else.

Something I really don’t like. Because not once in my whole life have I felt jealous of my brother.

Of any of them. We’re all the same in some ways, different in others, but we make it work.

But there’s something about the way Beau chats to Beth that looks so easy and effortless.

“I think you might be right.”

“Lucky for you, we can change that,” Beau’s saying. “If there’s one thing we’ve got plenty of at Coyote Creek Ranch it’s horses and saddles.”

“I’ll fall off,” she says.

“My brother here’s just about the best teacher in Arizona,” Beau says, turning to wink at me in a way that makes me want to throttle him. If he comes on too strong, she’ll run. I just know it.

Beth sips her wine, cheeks pink, looks at me and then away again. “I’ll think about it.”

“Make sure you do,” Beau presses, and I catch Mackenzie rolling her eyes before I take a long, necessary drink of my beer.