Good Time Cowboy

He was surprised she’d shared that with him, and the look on her face told him that she was too. Almost like she didn’t understand the words that had come out of her mouth.

“I don’t know.” She looked away from him. “I guess...you know. Some people have beautiful things. Some people have beautiful lives. Some people don’t. And when you’ve lived an entire life of dirty and ugly it’s hard to imagine you could ever have anything else. That you could ever deserve anything else. I used to think of him like that too.”

Wyatt swallowed hard. He related to that a little more closely than he cared to admit. Even to himself. That feeling of being someone who could have a life that looked a certain way. Or being someone who could never aspire to such a thing. Someone who didn’t deserve it.

“It must feel more real now,” he said, unable to keep the gravel out of his voice entirely.

“I don’t know.” She paused for a moment. “It didn’t last, did it?”

“This place is going to last,” he said, knowing that she meant her marriage, but moving on to the winery anyway. “What you’re doing here? It’s going to last. You can’t control what other people do. They’re going to cheat.” He gritted his teeth, hating that when it came to his own experience with this kind of thing he couldn’t stand on the right side of the line. “But this is different. It’s not a person. It’s land. It’s not going to betray you. It’s not going to hurt you.”

“Now that’s spoken like a cowboy,” she said. “I imagine the other faithful things in your world are your horse and your pickup truck.”

“Damn straight.” He took a breath, doing his best to dispel the pressure that had begun to build in his chest. “Speaking of horses, how are you doing on that one?”

“Good,” she said. “You’re right. It is like riding a bike. In that, I remember how it’s done.”

“Well, and Trixie here is a pretty easy ride.”

“Funny. I think I read that on a bathroom wall about a girl named Trixie once.”

“If it was in the Gold Valley Saloon I might’ve written it there.”

She laughed, the sound unexpected and bright, splitting through the relative silence around them. “I don’t believe for a second that you would do that.”

“You don’t?” He shook his head. “Clearly I haven’t done a very good job of convincing you that I’m a jackass.”

“Oh no,” she said. “You’ve done a fantastic job with that. It’s just... I don’t think you’re that kind of jackass.”

“Truth be told,” he said. “My name is carved on the wall in the saloon.”

“Tacky,” she commented.

Before Laz had taken ownership of the Gold Valley Saloon, it had been the thing for people to carve their names outside the bathroom door if they had scored inside. And back in his twenties, when he had been more of a drunken asshole than he was in his thirties, he had put his name up there thinking it was damned good fun.

But then, she was right. It was different than writing down a woman’s name and promising she’d give someone a good time, he supposed. As long as the only person you were exposing was yourself, it didn’t seem half as bad.

Of all the things he’d done, that wasn’t even close to being one of the ones he was most ashamed of.

“Yeah, well,” he said finally. “I’m a little tacky.”

“I believe that.”

They rode on through the rows of vines, the sun casting long shadows across the path as they went. It was a spectacular ride. If they paused for some wine tasting, it would be the kind of experience people would go home and tell their friends about.

The kind of experience that would make Grassroots Winery and Get Out of Dodge prime tourist destinations.

And right now, he didn’t care about that. He could hardly think about it.

He was supposed to be out here thinking of exclusively that. But then...but then there was Lindy.

He tightened his hold on Emmy Lou’s reins and stopped her midgait. “We figured that right up here would be a great place to stop for a picnic.”

He’d force himself back on track if he had to.

There was more grass at the end of the grape vines, a few picnic tables set out there, with the glorious view of the mountains around them. Back behind them was the row of pine trees, the river now completely obscured. There were no buildings in view. And it gave the sense of being wholly and completely closed in. He paused his horse.

“It’s serene out here,” Lindy said. “I get so caught up in doing all of the office work that I forget to come out here.”

“Well, you’ll have to come out on the tours sometimes.”

“I don’t know if I’ll have time.”

“It’s a double-edged sword,” he said, to her or to himself he didn’t know. “You make the thing you love your work, and often that means you start neglecting the parts of it that you loved most.”

“I guess that’s true.”

He dismounted, looking back at Lindy. “Why don’t we stop here for a minute?”

Lindy’s eyes were still covered by her sunglasses, but he could see the hesitation move through her entire body. The subtle twitch in her shoulders, the way her hands choked up on the reins, as if preparing to double down about staying on the horse. About not stopping with him.

He could almost read her internal war with herself. To make a big deal out of it and let him know that she was battling anything at all, or to give in and subject herself to a greater amount of time in his presence.

He’d casually dated women he couldn’t read as well as the woman in front of him. And for some reason...he could see through her, clear as day.

Which seemed more curse than blessing in general.

“Okay,” she said, getting off the horse quickly, as though the moment of hesitation before hadn’t happened at all.

“So, you actually make the wine here?” he asked, turning away from her and surveying the grapevines.

“Yes,” she said. “All of the equipment is housed in one of the other barns on the property. Before my in-laws bought the place years ago, it was a big, working ranch. So, a lot of the original buildings are intact. We’ve just repurposed them.”

“I see,” he said. He turned to face her then. She wasn’t looking at him. At least, he was fairly certain she wasn’t looking at him. Her eyes were still obscured by the sunglasses. Purposefully so, in his expert Lindy opinion.

“What changes have you implemented?” he asked.

She jerked, as if in shock, and then she did look over at him. “Since the divorce?”

“No. All of it. How much of it is yours, Lindy. I want to hear about it.” He did. God knew why, but he did. He was fascinated by her. This prickly, inaccessible woman. Maybe that was why. Because she didn’t bat her eyes and try to get his attention. No. She was hell-bent on running from the attraction between them. Not tempted to lean into it at all. Maybe he was that simple. Enticed by someone who didn’t want him back.

Because it was a novelty.

Because he was a man, and men were pricks.

Or at the very least, led around by them.

“Damien didn’t really want it,” she said. “In fact, when his parents decided to retire, and they turned the place over to him he immediately started trying to figure out how he could pawn the work off on someone else. That’s fine. I mean, he did have a career that was separate from the business. I think to a degree he felt like his father was forcing his hand. Either way, he never wanted anything to do with it. But I... I did.” The corners of her lips turned down into a frown, and he could see a slight pleat forming between her brows, right above the edge of the sunglasses frame. “I never really had dreams. I mean, nothing that was above myself. Until I met Damien, and suddenly so many other possibilities were opened up to me. Money doesn’t buy happiness, Wyatt, but it sure as hell changes your opportunities. Suddenly...there were a lot of different ways for me to figure out how I might find happiness. Damien was done with school, so, that was never really on the table. Anyway, I hadn’t spent a lot of time thinking about what I would study in school. It was one of those things that was never an option for me.”

She paused for a moment, tilting her head to the side. “It’s a funny thing. You move in certain circles, and it never occurs to anyone that you might not have gone to college. Which was crazy to me, heading into that social circle. No one in my family has gone to school. I would never...assume that someone had. Now, it seems like more often than not I never meet people who assume someone might not have. Class creates interesting divides, even in small towns. I never really realized how complicated it was until I had lived on both the green side of the fence and the dirt side.”

“I didn’t go to school,” he said, lifting a shoulder. “Nothing beyond the school of getting thrown off an angry animal onto my ass. Grant got married. Bennett... He had a goal, and he figured out how to make it happen. I used to envy him a little bit.”

“You did?”

He had never said those words out loud before, and he had no earthly idea why he was saying them to her now. “Yeah. Both of them, actually. They both found something they wanted and went for it. I... I kind of fell into rodeo.”

“I don’t believe that,” she said. “I have too deep of an appreciation for how difficult the work is. For how competitive it is. You forget, my brother does it too.”

“No. I didn’t forget. But I’ll be honest and say that I fell into success there. At first...at first I wanted to get away.”

She looked interested in that, but she didn’t press. And that was good. He didn’t really want to talk about the circumstances that surrounded his leaving home for the first time. Not with her. Not with anyone.

“I understand that,” she said softly. “Damien was like a nice escape from my real life. When he first showed interest in me... I couldn’t believe it.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, how did you meet him?”

“At the winery,” she said, looking around them. “I applied for a job here. I thought it would be a step up from what I was doing. I was working swing shift at a fast-food restaurant in Lola. I was getting tired of the hours and everything else. He did my interview for the winery and then when it was finished... Well, he didn’t offer me a job, because he said his father would have to approve that. But he asked me on a date, which he said his father would not have to approve.”

“That seems like a mess of human resources issues waiting to happen.”

“Probably,” she said. “But, it’s a family-run business. And anyway... I couldn’t believe that someone that handsome and accomplished would want to go on a date with someone like me. I didn’t think it would last. I didn’t think it would turn into anything. We were different. Different experiences. Different interests. Different friends. But, I worshipped the ground he walked on. All of the things that he showed me that I’d never had the chance to experience before. And I think... Well, I think he liked that. I can’t really blame him. What guy isn’t going to like that?” She frowned. “I mean, I would probably like that, honestly.”

He laughed. “True enough.”

“Everything with him is complicated. And always will be. Because there is that scorched earth and destruction desire, like I mentioned earlier. But then...being with him made me want more. Because I could see a potential future where I could have more. And when he made it clear he didn’t want to do any work on the winery... I put myself forward.”

“How did that go?”

“Not well,” she said, smiling tightly.

He could imagine. He didn’t know Damien’s family, but he’d heard stories from the other man over the years. Imagining Lindy, fine-boned and soft, standing in front of her stodgy, snobby in-laws and making a case for the fact that she should be the one to run the winery...

If he didn’t have a healthy heap of respect for her already, he would have gotten some in that moment. As it was, it doubled.

“I figured out how to make a business plan,” she continued. “And I presented Jamison with one. He still wasn’t happy, but he couldn’t argue. When Jamison officially passed ownership on to Damien, Damien resisted a lot of my new efforts. But, I still moved forward with some of it. I had the barns remodeled to make dining areas. To make a venue for weddings, for dances. I started pursuing partnerships with people like Alison Donnelly. To have her bring her baked goods to the winery. And, since the divorce I’ve started doing farm-to-table dinners biweekly over the summer, and I’ve opened the tasting room in Copper Ridge. I hope to open one in Gold Valley in the next couple of years. Then, there’s this partnership with you.”

She took a deep breath, her shoulders rising and falling with the motion, and she walked on ahead, leaving the horses behind as she drifted through the grass, the breeze ruffling her blond hair as she looked out toward the velvet patchwork of the mountains. “That’s the thing about people like Damien. He had all of this handed to him. Possibility is something he takes for granted. Achievement is something he takes for granted. I live every day amazed that I have all these resources. And I don’t want to waste them. It feels limitless to me. It feels new and exciting. No, I didn’t get to go to school and learn about business in a classroom. I rolled my sleeves up and I started doing it. I’ve made mistakes. I’ve done things inefficiently. I’ve overpaid for services. I’ve had contractors walk out on me and not fulfill their obligations. But for every bit of ground I’ve lost I’ve gained more. And I haven’t given up. I didn’t give up when my marriage dissolved. I won’t give up now.”

He nodded slowly. “That’s damned impressive.”

“Do you know...” She paused for a moment, shaking her head. “You’re the first person to ask me all of that. To ask how much of this is mine. I think so many people assume that I took this from him. From them.”

“Anyone with half a brain can see that isn’t true. Just based on the fact that his sisters rallied around you. That says a hell of a lot right there. If people can’t respect you, then they should respect Sabrina and Bea’s loyalty to you, don’t you think?”

“I would like it if they would just respect me. But, I take your point.”

“I’m not sure anyone respects me,” Wyatt said. “But then, I’m not sure I care.”

“That’s the difference,” Lindy pointed out. “You’ve never even tried to get people to respect you, have you?”

“Seems overrated to me. I prefer to come up from behind and win before anyone realizes I’m a contender.”

At least, that was what he hoped to do with Get Out of Dodge. The alternative was... The alternative was failing. Failing himself. Failing Grant and Jamie. Bennett.

“I’ve spent too many nights standing in groups of people who think that I’m beneath them. Who think I’m not as smart. Who think I don’t deserve to be standing in the spot I’m in. I want...better. I wish I didn’t care. But I can’t help it. I do.”

“It’s not a bad thing to care,” he said, taking a step toward her, close enough now that the slight breeze carried her floral perfume toward him, the impact of those flowers like a battering ram. “I wish I remembered how.” She appraised him closely, and he smiled. “Well, sometimes I wish I remembered how. A lot of times I’m happy I don’t.”

She was quiet for a breath. “You care,” she said, finally.

And for the first time, he was glad that she still had her sunglasses on. Because right about now he didn’t want to know what she saw.

It had never occurred to him until that moment that if he could read her, every movement, every minute expression, that she might be able to do the same thing with him.

“About the ranch. Remember, I’m nothing more than a bad cliché of a country song. My horse, my truck, my land.”

“Right. Don’t forget your beer.”

“And my woman?”

She stiffened. “Is there a woman?”

“In a manner of speaking,” he said, taking another step toward her, unable to help himself. “Right now, she’s not so impressed with me.”

“Well, it’s not hard to understand why.”

He appraised her for the space of three breaths. Watched as her breasts rose and fell with each one. Color stained her cheeks. She was blushing. And still, even with the sunglasses, he knew she was looking at him like she wanted him to turn to stone.

Well, hell, he was hard as stone. Had been from the moment he’d first seen her.

She’d always been there. In the back of his mind. Ever since that first moment.

Yes, he’d been with other women in the past five years. Of course he had. But the more he spent time with Lindy, the more she overtook his senses.

When she had been married to Damien it had been the gentlemanly thing to go off and sleep with other women, to do something to keep himself from fantasizing about his friend’s wife.

But, in the time since the divorce... That rationale had become a lot more difficult to maintain, seeing as she was no longer his friend’s wife. Or anyone’s wife.

Since her divorce... Yes, there had been other women.

In the past year...not so much.

And acting like it was a game. Light and funny banter... That was getting harder too. Along with the rest of his damned body.

He liked a game, he liked to flirt, but he was getting tired of this one not going anywhere. He was getting tired of her acting like it didn’t mean anything.

It did. She wanted him. He could see it. And he didn’t know what the hell her investment was in acting like she didn’t. They were grown-ass adults. She didn’t want to get married, neither did he. But damn he wanted to burn off some of this electricity that sparked between them every time he saw her.

Yeah, they were working together, but in his mind, that was only making it worse. Ignoring it, continuing to go on like it wasn’t happening... That wasn’t working. Not for him.

It wasn’t going away. It wasn’t getting better. It was only getting stronger. And he didn’t know what to do with that.

He didn’t know what to do with this beautiful, gorgeous brick wall standing in front of him. One that made him crazy, one that made his skin itch and his blood feel like it was on fire.

He didn’t know how to want and not have.

Sex wasn’t that big of a deal, it never had been in his life. Apart from the one time it had been. But that had been about feelings. It had been about betrayal. And he’d done his damnedest to make sure that feelings never came into it. He’d also made sure that he never poached on another man’s territory, not again.

He liked sex without strings. And he and Lindy had no strings between them.

What they had was heat. What they had was need. A kind he’d never felt before.

Her pretending it was nothing...

He was done with it.

Completely done.

“Lindy,” he said, addressing the smooth angle of her jaw, the edge of her sculpted cheekbone. “Look at me.”

She did, but those sunglasses were still in place, and he couldn’t see enough of her.

He reached out and pulled her sunglasses away from her face, revealing wide, blue eyes that she immediately did her best to narrow into a hardier, more guarded expression.

“Give me my sunglasses back,” she said.

“I just want to look at you.”

“And I just want my retinas to not get scorched.”

“I think a few minutes without sunglasses will be fine.”

He looped the earpiece of the sunglasses over his shirt. He reached out and took hold of her chin, angling her face upward. “What would it take for you to be a little more impressed with me? Because let me tell you, I’ve got quite a few skills to recommend me. I might have lucked into success in the rodeo, but some of that is due to the fact that when I set out to do a task, you can be damn sure I’ll complete it, honey. If I get on for a ride, I’m not getting off till... Well, till everyone gets off.”

“You haven’t realized by now that your clever sexual innuendo doesn’t impress me?” she asked, but even as she spoke the angry words color bled into her cheeks.

“What would impress you then?” he asked again.

“Honesty. Stop trying to be clever. Stop being a jerk. Tell me what you want.”

Desire kicked him in the gut, the anger in her eyes sparking something else entirely. Whatever he had thought he’d felt for her before... It was more now. It was more dangerous, more destructive than anything else that had ever come before it.

“I don’t think you want that,” he said.

“You don’t scare me, Wyatt Dodge,” she said. “I’m a strong enough woman to stand on my own two feet even when you’re trying to sweep me off them. I was married for ten years. I know where this kind of thing ends up. That girl I told you about earlier? The one who got asked on a date in a job interview and saw that as a gift? She doesn’t exist anymore. She’s as dead as the man I thought my ex-husband was. I don’t think a nice date is a gift, not anymore. My due, maybe. But not a gift. So go ahead. Try me. Give me one ounce of sincerity, and let’s see where we get.”

She was doing what she did best. Staying in her comfort zone. Throwing down a challenge. Setting the tone. Because she thought he would falter. Because she thought...whatever she thought. That he was messing with her? That he didn’t mean it when he said he wanted her? As if the electricity between them could be faked.

“Maybe I should scare you,” he said, his voice rough. “Because this? This thing between us... I don’t know what the hell it is. If I kissed you right now, if you kissed me back... I think we would light this whole vineyard on fire. All those pine trees would go up like a lit match and dry tinder. We’d start a whole forest fire, baby. I don’t want to give you a gift. I want to burn out this thing between us until there’s nothing left but ashes. Ashes aren’t a gift. They’re evidence of destruction. That’s what I think might happen if we touch. That we may well ruin everything around us, but it might be worth it.”

Her eyes widened, and she let out a slow, shuddering breath. Her chin moved imperceptibly between his thumb and forefinger, and he tightened his hold on her, forcing her to keep on looking at him.

“Did I scare you? Good. You wanted sincerity, you’re getting it. I want you. You. Not sex. You. That’s different. And it bears mentioning, because let me tell you, usually I’m not so picky. I’m not going to pretend that I’m anything other than what I am. But you should know, I don’t care about much, but the one thing I’ve cared about in a long time is that I want the next woman I take to bed to be you.”

He released his hold on her and took a step back. “That doesn’t need to impress you,” he said. “But it’s the truth. You can do whatever you want with it. But if I can’t be the thing that keeps you up tonight, I sure as hell hope that will.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

THOSE WORDS ECHOED in Lindy’s head all the way around to the end of the trail, where she dismounted from the horse and mumbled some excuse about having somewhere to be before beating a hasty retreat to the tasting room, where she barricaded herself in her office so that she didn’t have to face Wyatt again. Or anyone, for that matter.

Because every filthy thought that had flitted through her mind the moment he had spoken those words had to be clearly written across her skin.

They had to be.

She felt them, radiating from her like a beacon. It was all so clear. All of it. She couldn’t pretend that what was between herself and Wyatt was anything other than raw, sexual attraction.

Sure, she had tried. Because she felt like the woman she had become wasn’t susceptible to that kind of thing.

Not her.

She had schooled herself into becoming a sophisticate. Had made her life about her professional achievements. Had gotten rid of all that wide-eyed, hopeful newness that she’d had before her marriage.

And really, even then, she hadn’t been...

She liked sex fine enough. But it hadn’t been a driving force in her relationship with Damien. She had felt soft things for him. Fuzzy things.