Page 29 of Ride Me Cowboy (Coyote Creek Ranch #1)

Chapter Seventeen

Beth

I T’S A PROMISE I FULLY intend to hold him to, next time I see him. The day drags, but every minute I expect Cole to come swaggering up to the house, into the office, to drag me into his arms and kiss me until he—and the way we spark off each other—is all I can think about.

I keep myself as busy as I can while I’m waiting.

When I’m not daydreaming about what we did this morning, I’m fleshing out the plan to turn Coyote Creek Ranch into a social media sensation.

These boys are like something out of a cowboy fantasy, and with the right content, they could build a following in no time flat.

I know Cole isn’t into that kind of thing, but I can’t get the idea out of my head, and I figure if he just knew a bit more about it, maybe he’d let me get this up and running before I leave.

Unbidden, his parting comment from this morning comes back to me: think of it as my mission for the next couple of months to make you forget about him: a lot.

Couple of months.

As in, during the time I still have here. Because I’m leaving, when Reagan comes back, and that means whatever we’re doing has a guaranteed stop-point. An end date.

I’m so glad, because it means we can just relax let this run its course, without worrying about how and when it’ll end. No matter what happens with Cole and me, I’m leaving this place when this job’s up, but until then, I’m going to make the most of being here.

With Cole, but also, if he’ll let me, with flexing my marketing muscles a bit.

So, after I’ve done my necessary bookkeeping work, I focus on this proposal.

I research comparable social media accounts, look at their numbers, their sponsorships, do a deep dive online to see if I can predict what each of those sponsorships is worth, then spreadsheet it all up.

I’ve got no idea if money’s going to persuade Cole, but it becomes pretty obvious, pretty fast that the really successful accounts are raking it in.

Excitement builds in me as I start making a list of the kinds of videos we could produce. Short, snappy clips of the scenery, of the boys on horseback—my heart speeds up as I remember riding across the ranch with Cole’s arms around me, and now I can’t concentrate, for the way my heart’s racing.

I shut down the document and make my way to the kitchen, telling myself I’m not secretly hoping to find Cole in there. It’s deserted—disappointment makes a mockery of me. I pour myself a coffee, and stare out at the trees in the distance, focusing back on the content suggestions I’m drafting.

I’m still staring out the window when, a few minutes later, a plume of dust kicks up in the distance, followed by a shiny black pick-up truck. Like Cole’s, but newer.

At first, I think it’s Beau who jumps out and starts striding toward the house, but there’s something a little different about this cowboy, from the way his clothes aren’t dusty and old, to a certain expression on his face.

That’s when I recall that Beau has an identical twin brother. Nash?

I only have a couple of moments to pull myself together—a familiar anxiety floods my system, bringing back memories of how much I hate meeting new people.

Screw my late husband for doing this to me, for turning me into this person.

And praise be to Cole for drawing me out of my shell, at least around him.

“Hey,” Nash dips his head when he walks into the kitchen. “You must be Beth.”

Well, that I wasn’t expecting. I blink, my mouth a little dry—a tension response I’m used to and able to mostly ignore. “Yeah,” I say, tilting my head once. “And you’re Nash, right?”

“Guilty as charged.” He crosses to me and holds out his hand. I shake it, as my body slowly returns to a state of normal, panic receding, because I’m here, in Cole’s kitchen, and I’m safe.

“I don’t know where everyone else is,” I say, apologetically.

“Cole’s in town, Beau’s at the bull pen, Mack’s with him, Caleb and Austin are on the property line, checking out a busted fence, and Cassidy’s still at school. Miss anyone?”

‘Cole’s in town’ is just about all I hear. Disappointment floods my system, because I’ve been counting down the minutes and he’s still a while away. Plus, now Nash is here, so who knows what that means?

“How do you know all that?”

He holds up his phone. “Family group chat.”

Putting aside the fact that’s really sweet, and something I didn’t expect, Nash being here is a definite spanner in the works of my whole ‘jump Coles’s bones’ plan.

“They didn’t tell you I was coming?”

I shake my head.

“Buffoons.”

I arch a brow. “It’s fine. I’m—I just work here,” I say, cheeks warm. “I don’t need to know the ins and outs of your family.”

“Don’t know if you’ve noticed, but that’s not really how we do things, Beth.”

His voice is so like Cole’s then that I do a double take.

“For as long as you’re here, you’re one of us. It’s how it’s always been, how it always will be.”

Something shifts inside of me. Pride. Respect. Affection. Gratitude. A host of emotions, tangling and twisting into one big loop that makes it hard to breathe, much less speak.

“Besides, Beau’s barbecuing,” he says. “I’m surprised the smell’s not driving you mad.”

Now that he mentions it, I become aware of a heavenly aroma. Just a hint.

“Fire’s out back,” he says, nodding his head to the side. “Probably put the hog on a few hours ago.”

“Do you come back every time your brother barbecues?” I ask, sipping my coffee.

“If I can,” he grins. “Beau’s barbecues are legendary around here. Toughest time of our lives was when he was on the circuit and away for months at a time.”

“The circuit?”

He lets out a low whistle. “Well, I’ll be damned. They really aren’t doing a good job of getting you up to speed, are they?”

I blink at him in confusion.

“Beau’s a bull rider,” Nash says. “Or was, anyways, ‘til he took a bad fall, and the old man told him he was done.”

I gape at Nash. Riding a bull was one of the suggestions I’d put on my social media content wish list, but I had no idea we had an ex professional rider in our midst.

“I’ve never been to a rodeo,” I murmur, tapping the side of my mouth with a finger. “But I can totally imagine Beau doing that.”

“Never been to a rodeo?” he repeats, like I’ve just told him I have bananas for ears. “You gotta be shittin’ me.”

I laugh then, at his surprise and his expression.

“I’m not. There aren’t a lot of them where I’m from.”

“Honey, good rodeo is worth travelling for.”

“Like Beau’s barbecues?”

“Now you’re getting it.”

His approval warms me. Man, I like this family. I like it a lot. It’s the polar opposite to anything I’ve ever known. It was always just mom and me, and it wasn’t like we were super close or anything. The way these guys are with each other, and ‘strays’, is just so darn nice.

“The season’s all wrapped up right now, but there’ll be some community events next month. You still be ‘round?”

My heart does a weird little lurch, but I nod, plastering over my strange reaction with a bright smile. “Yeah. Reagan’s taking off three months.”

He makes a scoffing sound. “That’s what she says.”

“What does that mean?”

“With her first kid, she was back after five weeks. Can’t stand not working. She thinks she runs this place, I swear.”

The ground tilts beneath me, or feels a lot like it. I turn around on the pretense of pouring myself a coffee.

“Her husband’s a writer,” Nash is saying, conversationally. “He works from home, so does a lot of the hands-on dad thing.”

I wonder how Nash feels about that. Is he one of those old-fashioned guys who thinks a woman’s place is in the kitchen or whatever?

But a quick glance over my shoulder shows no hint of that on his face.

He’s got one hip propped against the bench and as I turn back to face him, he grabs an apple from the fruit bowl, and starts shining it on his hip.

“So, you don’t work on the ranch?” I ask, sipping my coffee.

“Nah, not unless they need a spare pair of hands.”

“Not your thing?”

He grins. “Ranching’s everyone’s thing,” he says, reminding me then of Beau. “I guess I just had other things I wanted to do, too.”

“Like?” I try to remember what he does for a living. I can’t recall if I’ve been told.

“Music,” he says, walking across the living room to the record player and pressing a button, so that same soulful, acoustic country song Mackenzie put on the other night floods the room. I vaguely remember Mackenzie humming this song, when she came out of her room, too.

“Is that you, singing?” I ask, staring at him, totally floored.

He shakes his head. “I’m a producer. I found this guy in a bar a few years back.”

“It’s amazing. Mackenzie played it the other night.”

Something shifts in his expression, but it’s gone again so fast I figure I imagined it.

“She loves this song.”

“I can see why.”

The front door slams and my heart starts to bang faster, against my ribs, before Beau, Mackenzie, and Austin walk in, mid-conversation, Mackenzie holding forth.

“Hey,” Nash says casually, as he stops the music from playing, throwing me a wink, like we’re accomplices or something.

“Nashua,” Beau grins, going over to his twin and holding out his hand. The brothers shake and sort of hug, in a big, manly bear way, then Austin shakes Nash’s hand. Mackenzie has disappeared onto her phone, checking something, looking to all the world like any other person her age.

“Hey, Mackenzie,” Nash says, over the sound of the other guys talking.

“Oh, hey,” she waves casually, barely looking up from her screen, moving to the couch and flopping down onto it.