Cowboy Heaven (18 page)

“Yes, Bull, I'm sure you've always been the perfect cowboy. Keep up the good work.” I wished my mirror had been aimed at him so I could have seen his reaction, but I needn't have bothered. As always, Bull had something to say.

“That's right,” he said. “Rufus told me I'm the best goddamn hand on the ranch. He knows a good man when he sees one, even if some assholes around here don't.”

A scathing glance in Dusty's direction had undoubtedly accompanied that statement because I caught a glimpse of Joe's smile before he turned toward the window.

Dusty was biting his lip, obviously doing his best to hold back his retort. I reached over and patted his arm. “I've always thought Dusty was the best, but perhaps I'm a bit prejudiced.”

That, of course, set off a whole wave of protests from everyone else, so I kept on driving, letting them yammer on about it until we got to Cactus Bill's.

As honky-tonks go, Cactus Bill's was much like any other, complete with a scuffed dance floor, a really loud band, a bar running the entire length of the building, smoke-filled air, and alcohol in bottles, glasses, and the occasional mason jar.

At least they
had
glasses. Once, in another place, the waitress had answered my question about the lack of bottled Corona with, “Oh, we don't allow glass in here, honey.” I didn't bother to ask why. The reason was far too obvious.

That was the one and only time Cody and I had ever patronized that particular bar, even though they had a nice dance floor. Cactus Bill's had a much better reputation, with the result that the women outnumbered the men two to one. Needless to say, every cowgirl's head swiveled in our direction when I strolled in with my string of cowboys.

Then again, Dusty's next words to Bull might've had something to do with that reaction.

“There you go, Bull,” he said, clapping a hand on Bull's shoulder. “A veritable feast of nice, sweet,
cheap
pussy.”

What made it even funnier was that Bull didn't see anything wrong with that pronouncement—no doubt because Dusty had omitted the f-word.

It took me a while, but I finally found Jenny sitting at one of the larger tables with her sister Rachel and a willowy blond I'd never seen before. If she'd brought anyone else with her, they must have been on the dance floor at the time, so I deposited Dusty in a chair and took the seat next to him, intending to stay there for the entire evening. Troy, however, seemed to have other plans for me, because after the introduction, he ignored Jenny, Rachel, and her friend, whose name turned out to be Caroline, and seized me by the hand, spiriting me off to the dance floor.

As I might have expected, he was a much better dancer than I was, and all I really wanted to do was to stand back and watch him. The vision of Troy out on the dance floor in boots, jeans, a fancy Western shirt, and a black Stetson was a sight no cowgirl worth her spurs would want to miss. I could barely keep up with him during the first dance, but the second dance was to a much slower and quieter song, and I took the opportunity to fuss at him for the “having to work for it” comment he'd made earlier.

“Well, I did,” he protested. “I've had to rope and brand calves, fix fences, and all sorts of hard work.”

“Yes, but I
paid
you for that,” I reminded him. “You might not have cashed your paycheck yet, but I did write you one. I remember doing it very distinctly. Technically, the sex was a bonus, so I'd keep quiet if I were you or I might dock your pay next time.”

“Why, Angela,” he teased. “That sounds like sexual harassment.”

“Maybe. But I didn't exactly have to twist your arm to get you to participate.
You're
the one who showed up in my room. I don't recall having to beg or threaten you, much less go drag you out of the bunkhouse.”

He grinned. “You're right. If anything, it was a perk. One that I'm going to miss, I might add.”

“You didn't think it would last forever, did you?”

“Well, no,” he admitted. “But I thought it might last at least a month.”

“I guess you can blame Dusty for that.”

“I certainly do,” he said. “
And
Joe.”

“Why Joe?”

A mischievous sparkle lit his eyes. “You did say he was the best.”

I loved Dusty, true enough, but I sure was going to miss being on the receiving end of that particular look. Too bad I couldn't keep them both. Generally speaking, men were much too territorial for that, although I've always considered sharing to be a good thing. Mind you, I'd never been faced with such a dilemma before. Cody had been my one and only for years, and with him close to hand I hadn't done much boy watching—hadn't even felt the need—until lately. The trouble was, I seemed to like most of what I saw—including Joe—who very well might have been the best for all I knew.

“You're right, I did say that, but that wouldn't have necessarily eliminated you.”

As the dance continued, I couldn't help wishing Dusty had been the one in my arms rather than Troy. He was handsome and a terrific dancer, but…

“It wasn't a question of who had the best equipment or technique, Troy. It was a matter of who I loved the most. I've had a soft spot in my heart for Dusty for a long time. I've only just met you. Joe's been around for a few years, but he never said much, so I had no idea what he was really like. It's hard to say you love someone when you don't really know them. Oh, you might
think
you do, but in the end, most of what you love is either in the way a person looks or what you imagine they might be like inside. You might
fall
in love at first sight, but to really
be
in love takes time.”

His smile disappeared, replaced by a far more serious expression than I'd ever associated with Troy. “That's fine for you, Angie, but what about me? Did you ever consider that I might be in love with you?”

I studied his face for a long moment, trying to decide whether he was teasing me. I didn't think he was. “I pretty much caught you on the rebound—and you seem to rebound pretty quickly. Besides, you haven't known me any longer than I've known you. Do you usually fall in love that easily?”

He didn't respond right away. “Maybe. I have a tendency to go wherever my dick points. And right now, it's still aimed squarely at you.”

“That's because I've been your only target. There are three available women at our table, alone. Surely one of them can get a rise out of you. All you have to do is give them the chance. I've always thought Jenny was one of the prettiest women around these parts, but her taste in men is pretty lousy. I don't know Caroline at all, but she's very pretty too, and Rachel… Well, what can I say about Rachel? Men have overlooked her for most of her life, but she's got a heart of gold just like her sister. She's probably got enough love stored up to overwhelm any man with sense enough to tap into it. She strikes me as the female equivalent of Joe—a really good woman who's been waiting around for someone to realize her worth.”

Troy seemed unimpressed by this, which made me long to smack him. I'd known several women I could've wrapped my arms around and loved to pieces if I'd been a man. Too bad they weren't the sort men typically found attractive. Men must see women differently, because when a man goes looking for a lover, the woman he chooses isn't necessarily the type who would also be a good friend.

Perhaps that was why friends seldom become lovers. A woman once told me that while she loved her husband, she didn't really like him. I couldn't see that as making for a very lasting and joyous relationship. Needless to say, hers wasn't.

Cody used to complain that women tended to choose the pricks over the nicer guys. Of course, pricks were nearly always handsome devils who made women cream their jeans rather than warm the cockles of their hearts.

I was incredibly lucky to have Dusty, who affected me both ways. I liked Troy, and he was a lot of fun, but I didn't love him. Given the choice between him and Joe—one strikingly handsome and the other with a face only a mother could love—I probably would've taken Joe. Perhaps age had altered my perspective, because in my youth, Troy would have won that decision, hands down.

Apparently, Jenny thought he was pretty hot too.

“Where on earth did you find
him
?” she whispered in my ear when I finally pleaded exhaustion and returned to the table.

“Shh… Not so loud. That's Troy, the one you supposedly sent me, remember? But I've sort of changed my mind about him.”

Her silent “Oh” and the lift of her brow told me she understood that Troy was now available.

Apparently, I was wrong about that because less than a heartbeat later, she shifted her attention to Bull, flirting like a cheerleader in the men's locker room.

The
handlebar
mustache
strikes
again.

I wanted to strangle her.

Judging from the empties sitting in front of him, Bull had already downed two bottles of Coors in the time it took for Troy to dance me to death. Bull drunk would undoubtedly be even more obnoxious than Bull sober, and if that were the case, this was going to be a very long night. I had half a mind to haul Dusty off to another table so we wouldn't have to listen to all the crap. Dusty was sure to start ragging on him, which would probably wind up as an all-out brawl. I was beginning to wish I'd never come up with this idea.

In the meantime, Troy had traded me in for Caroline and was off dancing with her while I sat between Joe and Dusty drinking a Coke, hoping no one would notice there wasn't any rum in it. Rachel, a taller and slightly older version of her sister, sat at the far end of the table. Notoriously shy with men, Rachel had never married and rarely dated. She was nowhere near as open and lively as her sister, but I'd known her for years and liked her very much. What I'd told Troy was no more than the truth because she really did have a heart of gold. A good sense of humor too, if you hung around long enough to realize it.

Dusty draped his arm over the back of my chair, leaning close enough to whisper in my ear. “Sorry I can't dance, Angel. I'd really like to get you out there so I could have a good excuse to get my arms around you. That way you could feel how hard my dick is.”

“My goodness, how romantic,” I said with a giggle. “You sure know how to make a girl feel loved.”

He grinned. “I hope so, 'cause I really do love you.”

“Hmm… Let's see how you feel after a few beers. If you still love me when you're good and drunk, we'll know it's true love.”

“I always thought it was the other way around.”

“Yes, but that's only true if you fall in love with someone when you're already drunk. It's different when you fall in love sober. Then again, the real test is whether
I
still love you when you've been drinking. For all I know, you might turn out to be as big a prick as Bull.”

“Damn.” Dusty stared at his half-empty bottle of Coors like it was full of rattlesnake venom. “If that's the case, I'll never touch another drop.” Giving the bottle a tiny shove, he added, “I think I'd rather die than be anything like Bull.”

Apparently having overheard the tail end of our conversation, if not our confessions of love, Joe laughed and took a swig from his own beer. “What did you do for entertainment before you had Bull to pick on? Pull the wings off flies?”

“Aw, I wouldn't pick on something as innocent as that,” Dusty protested. “I only pick on things like Bull and…” He paused, apparently searching his memory for any creature unfortunate enough to be included in the same category as Bull. “Rattlesnakes.”

“Hold on now,” Joe said. “The way I heard it, Angela was the one who saved you from that snake.”

“Yes, but I had my foot on it,” Dusty said. “Trust me, it was feeling picked on.” With a shudder, he reached for his beer.

“I thought you weren't going to drink anymore,” I teased.

“Sorry,” he said after a long pull from the bottle. “The thought of having to deal with that snake and Bull at the same time is driving me to drink.”

Troy and Caroline returned and grabbed a quick drink before heading back out to the dance floor. She must've had more stamina than I did. I might be able to keep up with Troy in bed, but on the dance floor, he was a bit much for me. I was kind of annoyed that he hadn't asked Jenny to dance, but the night was young. Caroline would wear out eventually.

Not long after that, Bull asked Jenny to dance. I reminded myself that it was her nature to be cheerful and agreeable, but she seemed way too delighted at the prospect. Hopefully, she was only being polite.

Dusty finished his beer and began getting downright amorous. He was in the process of polishing my earring and my earlobe with the tip of his tongue when he whispered, “Troy said I haven't lived until you've sucked my balls. I know my dick isn't as big as Joe's, but my balls are cuter. Why haven't you done it to me, yet, Angel?”

I arched a brow. “It's a damn good thing you're still adorable after one beer. Keep drinking and you might find yourself getting downright homely.”

He chuckled with fiendish delight. “If
you
keep drinking, Joe might get better-looking.”

“I'm not drinking anything but straight Coke, and he looks fine to me,” I declared. “Don't start picking on him now that Bull isn't around.”

“I'm not picking on him,” Dusty insisted. “He'll tell you himself how ugly he is. Won't you, Joe?”

“That's me, Big Ugly Joe,” Joe concurred, taking a swig of his beer. “Horses love me, women fear me—or something like that. I forget how it goes.”

Our remarkably attentive waitress brought Dusty another beer along with a smile that had me grinding my teeth. Fortunately, she didn't seem inclined to linger. I was already regretting my role as designated driver and would've killed for a Corona. Too bad none of my cowboys were in any condition to drive.

“That's a fisherman's saying,” I told Joe. “‘Women love me, fish fear me.' I've seen it on a T-shirt.”

“Is that right?” Dusty seemed puzzled. “Do fish really fear you, Joe? Is it because you're so big? No, wait… That's why horses would love you—or maybe fear you, I dunno… I'll have to think about that. Or maybe it's women who might love you or fear you, depending on whether they were looking at your face or your dick. Some girls like those great big dicks—don't they, Angel?”

I shot him a menacing glare. “Dusty, do I have to punch you again? You leave Joe's dick out of this.”

“But it's so fucking awesome.” With a plaintive sigh, he picked up his beer bottle and began peeling the label. “I wish mine was like that.”