Page 24 of Rogue Cowboy (Montana’s Rodeo Cowboys #3)

“Don’t behave on our account.” Her mom smiled sweetly, shocking Riley.

“Hey,” her dad objected.

Her mom laughed. “Taryn and I have our eyes on you, girls, and apparently you too, Riley’s friend,” she said with exaggerated pronunciation.

“Everyone thinks they’re a comedian,” she groused. “And I never tried that move in a parade,” Riley reiterated. “Mom, did you take your RediMind for memory today?” Riley teased.

“It’s you who’s been forgetful.” Her mom didn’t miss a beat. “I don’t believe I’ve met your young man.” Her mom leaned forward in her saddle and held out her hand to Cole. “Not every day I meet a friend of my son who’s courting my daughter.”

Riley’s eyes nearly popped out of her head. Her mom never put her on the spot like this, but Arlo and Petal openly stared, as did a few other people lined up in their spots for the parade route. Boone laughed, fist-bumped Rohan, who thumbs-upped her—the pair of idiots.

“Ummmm,” Riley muttered.

Cole rescued her. He stepped forward and shook her mother’s hand. “Pleasure to meet you, ma’am. Cole Jameson. I had the pleasure of serving with your son Rohan. Good man. I met Riley in LA. Hoped for us to get reacquainted over the rodeo weekend.”

Riley was so busy watching Cole, she nearly missed the play of expression on her mother’s face—curiosity, pride, intrigue and worry.

“You’re the potential stock contractor from Texas?

” her mom guessed, blue eyes searching Cole’s and then her questioning gaze jumping to Riley’s as if Riley were about to stand up and announce she was leaving Montana and her family.

She’d done that once as a starry-eyed, stupid teen, full of herself. Never again.

“Yes, ma’am. Hill Country. My family are ranchers, and we have a spread near Last Stand.

But many in my family are also in the medical profession.

I served in the army and in the Rangers over fifteen years, ma’am.

I’m out now and looking to build a new career, perhaps in the stock-contracting business my family’s looking to expand outside of Texas. ”

“What’s this?” Riley muttered. “Your new LinkedIn profile?”

“Thank you for your service,” her mom murmured and reached out and shook Cole’s hand again. She looked at Riley for a long, fraught moment then back at Cole. “How long are you in town?”

“Through the rodeo and into next week. I’m looking at the operations of several ranches in the area and then heading out toward Bozeman, then Missoula, and into Wyoming to look at some land one of my uncles owns.”

“Wyoming?” Riley repeated. It was the first she’d heard about Wyoming.

“You sound busy. If you have time on Monday, come to the house for dinner.” The look she shot Riley—pure censure—was a bullhorn message. No keeping suitors secret. “I’m sure Riley was about to issue the invitation to a family dinner after the rodeo.”

Riley squirmed. Sheeesh. Her mom made it sound like she was Petal’s age and in need of some civilizing.

“And if you’re looking at stock contracting, you’ll want to wrangle an invitation to the Ballantyne Bash Sunday night.

It’s tradition and most ranch folks will be there.

I’m sure Riley will introduce you to Ben Ballantyne of Three Tree Ranch.

” Sarah smiled sweetly, but the message in her mother’s eyes was a clear demand.

“Yes, ma’am.” Riley tried not to slouch like her censure had done to Petal and Arlo a few minutes earlier.

But her mom was right. She had to stop running from her responsibilities. She was an adult now and had to act like it.

They walked back through the campground area—now fairly quiet—toward town to find a place on the parade route where they could keep an eye on Petal and Arlo, and as they walked, Riley lectured herself to cowgirl up.

“Cole, stop trying to be your version of a…perfect suitor.”

She took four quick strides and then turned around hands on hips, blocking him. She dragged in a quick breath and stared at him.

“Be authentic. You make me feel like I’m in a play.”

He looked puzzled, and spread out his arms, which only accentuated the breadth of his chest and strength of his arms, and her tummy stirred up and her legs felt like they were made out of liquid.

“This is me.”

“You don’t need to take care of me anymore.”

“Don’t I?” He took a step forward, then another. She even loved the shape of his eyes—long, but narrowed as if he was really concentrating—and then that slice of navy-blue iris pierced her soul. His brows were thick, darker than his hair, emphasizing his eyes.

High cheekbones. Long narrow nose. Full mouth. Strong jaw jutting out as just one more masculine declaration before you got to those broad shoulders and developed pecks, taut torso and narrow hips and muscular thighs. He really could be a cover model for the romance novel he’d teased Arlo about.

He reached out, brushed his knuckles along her cheek, and she waited for the panicked closing of her throat, but though her heart thumped hard, and her mouth dried and her breathing felt compressed, heat raced through her body like the first time he’d touched her, even though it had only been to help her on a paddleboard so many years ago.

His palm smoothed down her neck, his thumb against her racing pulse.

“You don’t,” she whispered shakily. The way he touched her undid her every time and made her think her cravings could be met.

With one finger he traced her collarbone. “Riley, sweetheart, you have it all wrong.”

“How?” She caught his hand, but instead of pushing him away, she held it against her, right over her left breast as if to keep her wildly galloping heart inside her chest.

“I do intend to take care of you,” he said. “But I was hoping you’d take care of me.”

Her knees felt weak—ridiculous because she was ranch born and raised. Strong.

“I need you to take care of me.”

He must be joking, but then she remembered how he’d rushed out of her trailer last night. He’d been pale, his skin clammy with a sheen of sweat, and his breathing had been erratic—like how she got sometimes.

But Cole was the strongest, most independent man she knew. He couldn’t need her, could he? What if he did? She rolled her shoulders back—to be needed by a man like Cole. It was almost unfathomable.

“I don’t know how,” she admitted, but boy was she willing to learn if only she was someone without the baggage, someone stronger, cleaner, whole.

“You’re doing just fine.” His voice was rough, raw like how she felt inside.

“Cole, I’m not that girl anymore,” she confessed. “Or maybe it’s more I don’t want to be.”

“I know.”

Like it was no big deal.

“I’m not the same, either,” he said easily, and his palm moved down to her waist, then her hip to align her with his body—closer but not touching, and she felt like if she sucked in a deep breath, her chest would brush against his.

And if she leaned in, she’d feel him—the most masculine part of him—against her tummy.

The thought should scare her to death. But when Cole touched her, when he was close enough to breathe in, all she felt was clawing emptiness beginning to be filled.

“Look at you, heart like a hummingbird, baby,” he whispered, leaning in. His lips brushed down her neck, and she felt like his tongue circled where her pulse beat. “Are you frightened?”

Heat rushed through her. “No.”

“I’m a little frightened of your power,” he stunned her by saying.

“I don’t have any power.” She tilted her neck to give him better access. He kissed a trail down her neck and across her collarbone. His tongue stroked seductively, and she shivered even as the morning sun warmed her.

“You crackle with power,” Cole said. One thumb traced her bottom lip. “And you overthink.”

She nipped the pad of his thumb on impulse, which startled her more than him, but his eyes did flare with some unnamed emotion, and the fact that she could surprise him, make him notice her, did fill her with a sense of power she’d lost long ago. But maybe it had only been misplaced.

“You want simple?” she teased.

“I want you.” He shocked her with his honesty.

“You confuse me,” she admitted. She was nothing special. Not anymore.

“Same.” He cupped her cheeks, thumbs stroking. “We don’t have to have all the answers. That’s why I’m here.”

“But why not find someone else, someone easier?”

He placed her hand on his chest. “Who values easy? My heart chose you, Riley. Then and now.”

I went swimming in Miracle Lake today. I haven’t been in a few years, but my family all went like we used to, only there are more of us now—nieces and nephews. We picnicked. Boone brought inflatable paddleboards, and a little blowup kid boat for the little ones.

You like to swim? Our ranch has a couple of prime swimming holes.

He relaxed into the conversation she’d initiated. Each time she reached out first, he had more hope, felt like their friendship could become more.

I’m sure your swimming holes are warmer than Miracle Lake. Even in August it’s so cold you can’t stay in long. Glacier fed, but invigorating. Reminds me I’m alive and washes me clean.

You’re clean, Riley. You sparkle.