Page 14 of Ride Me Cowboy (Coyote Creek Ranch #1)

I was only a boy when I realized that loving someone as much as I loved mom was a recipe for disaster.

Losing her damn near broke me. Only, it couldn’t break me, because even then, everyone was counting on me.

Dad, the others. I was Cole, the oldest. The strong one.

The one mom used to call her little helper.

Named for my dad, I never once forgot that I was expected to follow in his footsteps, to be like him.

I’ve been doing my best to hold it all together ever since. My brothers, Cassidy, the ranch.

A woman would just get in the way of that.

Which isn’t to say I haven’t spent an annoying amount of time letting my mind wander and imagine Beth. Beneath me. Ridin’ me. Those pink lips of hers running all the way over me.

So maybe it’s a good thing she’s been making herself scarce, because if she were right under my feet, I don’t know if I’d be able to hold out from doing something about the thoughts that keep tumbling through me. At least when I don’t see her, there’s no chance of messing everything up.

I reach into my own desk drawer, pulling out a handful of unpaid bills and rifling through them, working out which ones can’t wait, which ones I can put off a little while longer.

Juggling the finances like this ain’t much fun.

I hate to think of my old man doing this, while he was alive, not telling any of us how much trouble the ranch was in.

And I didn’t stop and wonder why he was selling off cattle, reducing the herd size.

Why he wanted to cut off a bit of land and sell it cheap to the Callahan’s next door.

Mom would turn over in her grave if she knew what he was up to.

At the time, he told me it was doing a friend a solid.

That it was all about the Callahan’s, and because he was a living savior, I believed him. But now, I know better.

He was treading water, all the time. Doing whatever he could to keep us afloat.

Just like I’m doing.

My gaze shifts to Beth’s desk, and I wonder if she’s noticed anything.

Reagan and I agreed we’d just get her running payroll, doing the taxes, and managing the bills when we can cover them.

We didn’t know if we could trust her or not, and besides Reagan, no one knows what an uphill battle I’ve got to hold onto this place.

Dad wanted it private, so I’m keeping it that way. For his sake.

A movement outside catches my attention, and I glance toward the glass, frowning, as my eyes focus and recognize Beth.

My body takes a microsecond to catch up, every part of me tightening to concrete levels of hard in response to just seeing her for the first time in days.

She lifts a hand as I watch and tucks some blonde hair behind her ear. Beau smiles at something she’s said.

Beau.

My gut sinks to my toes.

Beau who might as well be chalk to my cheese for all we’re alike.

Other than our looks, anyway. It was his mom who died too, but you’d never know it.

He lost our dad a year ago, same as I did, but who could tell?

We’ve been through the same stuff, yet he just sails right on by, like nothing and no one can ever phase him.

He charms and laughs, always knows what to say, how to wink, to bring women to their knees.

I drop my head forward for a moment, closing my eyes, but then quickly look back to the window, because I can’t not look.

If something’s happening between them, I should know about it.

Partly because she works for us, and I can’t have her being hurt by Beau, but mostly, because if she hooks up with my brother at least that’ll get her the hell out of my head. Right?

Beth

“It’s easier than it looks.”

“It doesn’t look hard,” I tell Beau, starting to walk once more, hoping that Cole isn’t sitting in his office, just across from us, seeing this, for reasons I can’t explain. “It’s just not something I’ve ever wanted to do.”

“That’s cause you’ve never done it.”

I roll my eyes. “Well, ain’t that just a perfect catch twenty-two,” I say, imitating his cowboy drawl, earning a laugh from him.

I really like Beau. He’s easy to be around.

He doesn’t take himself, or the ranch, or anyone too seriously.

Most of all, he doesn’t take me too seriously.

He doesn’t look at me like he wants to know all my secrets.

Sometimes I think he’s not even listening half the time.

“You mocking me there, Manhattan?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Cowboy,” I tease back, then wish I hadn’t, because in my mind, there’s only one guy I want to use that name for, and I have been assiduously avoiding him for the last few days.

“So,” he asks, conversationally, as we make our way back from the stables, where he’s been trying to convince me to get on one of the horses. “Whatcha think of our little patch out here?” he gestures to the ranch with a sweep of his hand.

I follow his gesture, my heart tripping at the beauty.

“It’s spectacular,” I say, honestly.

“Compared to where you’re from? You must be bored outta your mind.”

“No way,” I shake my head. “I like it. It’s quiet. Peaceful.”

“And your life in the city isn’t?”

My stomach tightens painfully. I don’t want to think about my life in New York.

I know I’ll have to go back to it, that this is a temporary reprieve, but the less I think about ‘home’ the better.

If removing Christopher’s power over me is my new life purpose, surely that starts by taking a total break from the cage he created to contain me, including any reference to it?

“It’s busy,” I say, after a beat.

“Do you do bookkeeping work out there, too?”

I shake my head.

“What do you do then?”

I open my mouth to answer, then realize I can’t. Not without giving him the kind of information that will lead to more questions. Questions with answers I don’t want to hand out.

So, I lift my shoulders. “This and that. How about you, Beau? Has being on the ranch always been your dream?”

I listen as he starts telling me about the first time he climbed on a bull’s back, and how he felt like he was a God on earth, and I let my mind wander to another cowboy, who feels as at home on the ranch as anyone has anywhere, and my stomach knots for a different, far more pleasant reason.

And even though I stole that kiss from Cole, even though he rejected me right afterwards, my lips tingle as I remember what it was like to brush against his, and there I am, walking across the field on a summer’s afternoon, next to Beau Donovan, fantasizing about his older brother in a way that’s got me all kinds of hot and bothered.