Page 1 of The Curvy Girl’s Lucky Cowboy (Cowboys Love Curvy Girls)

Chapter one

R iley

I guess I should’ve planned on it taking more time to get ready this morning, considering the preposterous outfit I have on and how long it took me to squeeze into these tights. I’m late, but I found a great parking spot on the street, so I shouldn’t complain.

At least it isn’t snowing. Western Montana got five inches of snow last night, but here in West Palomino, it’s beautiful.

My cozy home town is surrounded by snow capped mountains in the far distance, but we’re tucked in our own micro climate with bright blue skies and highs pushing into the seventies. Rare for this time of year.

I soak in the charming surroundings, strolling by the stores with their window boxes bursting with color, and inhale deeply, savoring the fresh air.

I’m home.

And doing my part to support the community, I remind myself while listening to the sound of scratchy crinoline rubbing against my thighs with every step. I turn left and walk past the Sheriff’s department when my best friend’s voice snaps me out of my daydream.

“Took you long enough!” Allison waves me over to her before she erupts in laughter.

“Hey, you’re supposed to be my support system today. Laughing at me isn’t the way to do it,” I tease, giving her a hug.

Allison pulls back and sheepishly covers her mouth with her hand as she scans my costume in all its glory close up. “Sorry.” She shrugs. “You really don’t look that bad.”

I quirk my brows. “That bad ?” Geez, Louise. This is shaping up to be a long day.

“Seriously. I’ve seen worse,” Allison explains, trying to make me feel better. “Can’t tell you exactly where or when, but I know I have definitely seen costumes even more awful than yours.”

“That’s it.” I raise my palms in defeat. “I give up. I think I’m coming down with a sudden cold or maybe a sprained ankle? What’s my escape plan?”

“I can’t believe how you managed to get roped into this. You haven’t been in town for more than two weeks. How did Loretta Parker find out you were here?”

“I ran into her picking up barbeque beef at Slo Mo. She’d just received a call about some urgent family business and has to be in Texas today.”

“And we all know there is no way anyone can refuse Miss Loretta.”

I shake my head in agreement. “I didn’t stand a chance. Not after the Parker’s built the new hospital wing and the Wild Cat Ridge development.”

Allison peers off and points to the lush hills in the distance, one of my favorite spots to see the wildflowers in spring.

“In a month those hills will be so colorful.”

“I’m talking about the population,” Allison clarifies. “There must be two hundred homes up there. But are there enough people to support a parade of this size?”

We both scan a float filled with little leaguers slowly cruise by. “If Loretta Parker says there are enough people to watch the parade, there are.”

“And that kind of positive attitude got you the top spot as mascot in this fine spectacle, my friend.”

I stop myself from saying something snarky.

Who am I to complain? I’ve been commuting from Missoula, driving my mom to her appointments, visiting and managing full-time help, hoping to relocate to West Palomino for months.

But I needed a job first. When the listing came up for West Palomino’s community gardener, I applied immediately, got lucky and started working last week. I’m counting my blessings.

“How’s your mom today?” Allison asks, reading my mind.

“She’s actually great except for when she forgets to take her medication, but I’m here now to remind her.” I check my phone for the time. “The Jacksons are probably at the house now, picking her up for the parade.”

I pull at my sticky bright yellow and green striped tights, attempting to get some air between the nylon and my thighs.

The horizontal stripes are the very worst option possible, not flattering at all with my curvy legs, and the green dress Loretta’s minions insisted I wear, is almost as bad.

It’s made of the stiffest, scratchiest polyester and making me break out in a rash.

I blow out a breath and park my hands on my shiny green hips as another truck cruises into the lot. Sheriff Jackson is directing traffic and I wave to him. He sends me a perplexed look as his eyes scan over me down to my pointed sized 14 green felt shoes. Oh boy. He has no idea who I am.

I’m usually the first to lend a hand to anyone in need, but I’m regretting it this time.

Just because my name is Riley O’Donnell, and St. Patrick’s Day happens to be my birthday, doesn’t mean I want to crawl up on some nasty flatbed dressed as a leprechaun.

My stomach is queasy, like it’s been attacked by a million obese butterflies.

“I’m going to chicken out.” I turn to Allison, who gives me zero reaction.

“Did you hear me?” I wipe the beads of sweat off my forehead.

The polyester I’m wearing is a type of man-made fabric-hell that doesn’t breathe.

“I heard you.” Allison stares me down, and so did coach Buck, and everyone within a mile. “It’s too late for you to bail now.” Her expression softens. “What can I do to help?”

“You’re such a good friend. Sorry I’m such a wreck,” I whisper and drop my head, inspecting the asphalt, coming to grips with the fact I have no options. “I guess you could give me the hat I’m supposed to wear.”

“Right here.” Allison digs through her enormous purse and pulls out a two-foot-tall lime-green hat and passes it to me.

But that isn’t all, apparently. Allison furrows her brows and I hold my breath as she rummages around in her goody bag for another surprise.

“Your glasses,” she says quietly, handing me a pair of large plastic sunglasses with shamrock frames.

“Loretta wanted you to wear these,” she sheepishly adds, “sorry.”

“Fine.” I shrug, taking them from her. “Sorry to be such a bitch, but there isn’t anyone else to complain to. Most people think I’m nice.”

“Because you are.” She smiles. “And you make a cute leprechaun.”

I glance down at my costume and the glare off the fabric practically blinds me. “You’re too kind.”I burst into a fit of giggles and we both laugh so hard we cry.

“Last call for any guests riding on the floats. Please check in with the driver of your vehicle,” someone announces over a bullhorn.

We quickly wipe our eyes and gather our composure. Allison points to my float of doom. “Shall I escort you to your carriage?”

“I’d appreciate it, I say, putting the glasses on. “I might break my neck in these things.” I vaguely make out a blurry image of Allison checking her phone.

“It’s five minutes to ten. Time to roll.”

After tripping over a pothole, I take my glasses off as we walk to the largest float on the other side of the lot. Loretta mentioned the mayor and a few celebrities would be riding with me, so ours is the grandest, greenest rig of them all.

When we’re still a good distance from my upcoming party on wheels, we pause at a pack of photographers surrounding the truck, apparently anxious to report our every move on their social media feeds. I’m having a hard time putting one curly leprechaun bootie in front of the other.

“Do I look okay?” I ask, straightening my dress.

“Yep,” Allison nods convincingly, adding extra oomph. “You’re fine.”

“Right.” I chuckle. “I don’t even know why I’m asking.”

“What on earth is happening over there?” Allison points. “Are those TV cameras?”

“Not sure, but there’s an awful lot of excitement for our tiny town’s parade.

You’d think we were in Bozeman.” I shield my eyes from the sun’s glare with my hand and spot a small white fluff ball take off in a run, followed by a black lab, and a miniature scruffy something. “Are there puppies in the parade?”

“And kittens. The veterinary clinic has a booth at the fair. I saw them setting up while coming in.” Allison gasps and covers her mouth.

“How could I forget? Our new vet is so popular, there’s a production company making a TV show about him called Wild Vet .

I’m sure that’s why all those cameras are here. ”

“And who is that?” I gape at a tall man with broad shoulders and brown hair step away from the crowd. He gracefully bends his large physique and holds out his hand. I’m too far to hear what he’s saying, but he immediately gets the attention of the furry escapees darting around the parking lot.

“That’s who I was talking about. The extremely photogenic, wild vet, Dr. Bo Jordain.” Allison studies me with a grin. “West Palomino’s new veterinarian. Isn’t he cute?”

“The dogs are cute. The good doctor is something else. He’s …” I try to think of a word to describe him but don’t come up with anything except, “he’s gorgeous.”

“And he’s riding on the float with you.”

I spin to Allison and send her a silent S.O.S. “Seriously? And I’m wearing this?”

“Just wave and smile. It’s all you have to do, okay?”

“I guess it won’t take very long to drive up Main Street.”

“That’s the spirit. Then we’ll spend the day getting pampered.”

I brighten. “It was pretty nice of Loretta to comp us those treatments at Wild Cat Ranch and Spa.”

“And after we’re completely relaxed and refreshed, we’ll pick up your mother for dinner and cocktails, and really celebrate your birthday. Deal?”

“Deal. And who knows, maybe we’ll meet a few hot cowboys.”

“Um.” She scans me up and down, cracking up. “Not in that outfit.”

“Please refrain from rubbing it in. In the words of my man Kermit, it isn’t easy being green.” I roll my eyes. “He’s the only guy I have anything in common with.”

“And he’s technically not human. He’s a frog.

” She snickers. “C’mon, let’s get this over with.

” She tugs my arm and we arrive just as Dr. Jordain finishes securing the escapees in the kennels in a van he must use to take the rescues out.

The mass of smiling spectators, mostly women, part like the red sea for the doctor as he strolls to the rig cool as a cucumber.

I crane my neck for a better look and freeze when the good doctor’s devilish dark eyes meet mine. I quickly grab Allison’s hand and stare as he edges his six-foot something masculine physique through the group with an easy smile. I scratch my itchy arms feeling my body break out in a full sweat.

The one time I possibly have the opportunity to meet the man of my dreams; I’m dressed like a leprechaun. “Please tell me we can turn around and go home. I have to live in this town.”

Allison bites her bottom lip and looks at me directly in the eyes.

“Keep your head down. That floppy hat brim should cover most of your hair and forehead. And wear the sunglasses Don’t take them off.

No one will see anything except two shamrocks staring them in the face, and they’ll run.

They’ll think you’re a maniac or something. ”

“Lovely.” I tuck as much of my long red hair under the hat, then I put on the glasses.

Allison is just ablur of golden hair. I peer up at the sky hoping to see a cloud, but the dark green lenses have small shamrock designs in the corner of each eye that block my view.

I prop them further on my nose and thank God I can see Allison a little better.

“Be here, okay?” I squint. “As soon as the truck comes to a stop, I’ll run to your car. ”

“I promise I’ll be here waiting.” Allison pulls me in for a supportive hug.

“Okay,” I say, “Let’s do this.” I plod forward to the float in my enormous booties.

So much for having the luck of the Irish.