Marry Me, Cowboy (Copper Mountain Rodeo) (15 page)

Jasper realized then that she had no idea who he was. He found that notion wildly liberating. And, strangely, arousing. He couldn’t remember the last time someone hadn’t known who he was and acted accordingly. He’d forgotten what it was like—the honest responses that had nothing to do with his net worth, the total lack of artifice or calculation, that look on her face that suggested he was nothing but a man, and a rather unappetizing one at that.

He thought he loved this place already, and he’d been here all of two days.

“The kind of degenerate you appear to be hanging around on the street waiting for,” he replied easily, not at all surprised that he was enjoying himself now. His brows arched up. “At seven-thirty. On a Monday.”

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An excerpt from

Promise Me, Cowboy

CJ Carmichael

Copyright © 2013

A lot of people believe you can’t keep a secret in a small town, but that simply wasn’t true. Sage Carrigan was only twenty-nine years old and already she had two that would blow the minds of her sisters and her father and the girlfriends who thought they knew every little thing about her.

And one of those secrets was just now stepping into her chocolate shop.

Sage stepped behind the counter, needing something solid to lean on. It was really him, Dawson O’Dell, her biggest secret, her biggest mistake... her biggest weakness.

Right now O’Dell was one of the top ranked cowboys in professional rodeo. She’d met him back in her barrel-racing days, but five years hadn’t changed him much. He still dressed like the bronc-rider he was, in Wrangler jeans and dusty boots, western shirt unbuttoned to the white T shirt beneath. His dark blonde hair was a little too long, and his green eyes a little too astute.

The second his eyes met hers she knew this was no chance encounter.

“Sage.”

He walked right up to the counter and gave her a look that made her instantly remember all the things she had once found so irresistible about this man.

“It’s been a long time,” he added.

He looked at her as if he knew her inside and out. Which he did. Or at least
he had.
Then his gaze swept the shop, the shelves of attractively packaged chocolate. However you liked it, she had it. Dark chocolate covering silky mint creams, milk chocolate over salt-flecked toffee, chocolate shavings and chocolate mixed with nuts. Bars of dark, milk or white chocolate. Chocolate in the shape of horses, cowboy boots...or the letters from A to Z. And more.

“Quite a departure from barrel-racing.”

“That was kind of the point.” Finally she’d found her voice. And now that the shock of seeing him was settling down, anger began seeping into its place. “If you’re here to buy something—please do it quickly. Otherwise, it would be best if you just left.” She looked pointedly at the door, hoping she’d kept the nerves out of her voice.

He rubbed the side of his face, using his left hand. No wedding ring, she noticed. But then there hadn’t been last time, either.

He gave her a lopsided smile. “Sounds like you’re still a little angry
.”

“I’m not angry, O’Dell. Just really not interested in seeing you. Or talking to you. Or even breathing the same air as you.”

His eyebrows went up. “That’s harsh.”

Obviously not harsh enough because he didn’t leave. Instead he wandered to the display of chocolate letters and selected an “S.”

For Sage?

“ I owe you an apology,” he allowed.

“Five years ago you owed me an apology. Now, you just need to walk out that door and let me go on pretending I never met you.”

He sighed like she was the dolt in the classroom who just didn’t
get it.
“I did
try
to apologize. But you left town mighty fast.”

Less than twenty-four hours after she crashed on that second barrel, her father had shown up in Casper, Wyoming and had whisked her home. But there
had
been time for Dawson to reach her. If he’d wanted to.

That had been the last rodeo she’d ever competed in. And it had been the last time she’d let herself get tangled up with a cowboy, too.

“Sage, even if it is a little late, I still want to say it. I was sorry then, and I’m sorry now.”

Damn, if he didn’t look sincere. But she hardened her heart. Facts were facts and how sorry could he be if he’d waited so long to find her?

Keeping her tone artificially sweet, she asked, “What exactly are you sorry for? Would that be for sleeping with me even though you were married?”

He winced.

“Or for your wife catching me butt naked in your bed and then pointing a rifle in my face?”

His gaze dropped to the counter and he swallowed hard. The words—she’d never spoken them aloud before—hung out there, embarrassing, and true, damn it. All too true.

“Sure sounds bad, when you put it like that.”

“They are the plain and simple facts Now, may I point you in the direction of the door one more time?” She glanced out the window, seeing scores of shoppers out on the street.
Would one of you please come in and buy some chocolate? Save me from having to say anything more to this guy?

“I’ll be on my way soon,” he promised. “Let me pay for this first.” He put the “S” on the counter. He’d chosen milk chocolate. She preferred dark.

“That’ll be ten dollars.”

His eyebrows went up. “That’s a lot of money for one piece of chocolate.”

“It’s premium quality. Made from scratch in-house. I buy the beans myself, directly from Venezuela. But if you want to put it back, go right ahead.”

“No, no, I’ll take it.” He pulled out his wallet and counted out a five and some ones.

“For someone special?” she couldn’t resist asking, after placing the confection in a cute paper bag and tying the handles with some copper ribbon. “Susan, maybe? Sandra? Sonya?”

“Savannah, actually.”

She was such a fool for thinking, for even a second, that he’d selected it for her. “Here you go.”

As she handed him the bag, she noticed him checking out her fingers. Oh my God, was he looking to see if she was married, too?  What about this Savannah girl? The man was incorrigible.

And lucky. She couldn’t believe they hadn’t been interrupted by another customer during all this time.

“O’Dell?” He was looking at her like she was a toy in a catalogue that he couldn’t afford. “Shouldn’t you be leaving now?”

“Yup. Just wanted to say, it was nice to see you, Sage. You’re even prettier than I remembered.”

She couldn’t help softening at those words, and the sincere look in his eyes as he said them. But then she remembered how she’d felt staring down the barrel of that shotgun, and her resolve was back, stronger than ever. “Goodbye, O’Dell.”

On his way out the door, he turned over the “Open” sign in the window.

Had he... ?

He gave her a wink and another one of his killer smiles. “Didn’t want anyone walking in on us, did I?”

Damn it, he had.

But she still managed to get the last word. “You mean like last time?”

Promise Me, Cowboy
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An excerpt from

Take Me, Cowboy

Jane Porter

Copyright © 2013

“I can’t do it, Jenny.  I can’t go through with this.”

The warm dry autumn wind whipped Jenny Wright’s wedding veil up above her shoulders, fine lace grazing her cheek.   Having lived the past ten years in Chicago, Jenny had forgotten the wind that whistled from Yellowstone, down through Paradise Valley, turning the ranching valley into a wind tunnel.

The wind snapped and crackled now, the gusts as much a part of Marietta as the iconic peak of Copper Mountain jutting behind the small, sleepy Montana town.  Marietta had surged to life in the late 1800s before nearly dying, when the copper boom proved to be nothing more than a hiccup and all the investors and prospectors packed up and moved away.

It’d been a hundred and twenty some years since then but it was still hard to make a living in Marietta.

It’s why she’d left town as soon as she’d graduated from high school.  It’s why she’d been determined to never move back.

She’d only come home for her wedding.  Only come home to make her family proud.

Jenny gently plucked the delicate veil from her small diamond and pearl earring before it tore.  “I didn’t catch that, honey,” she said, smashing the sudden rush of adrenaline flooding her veins.

No need to panic
, she told herself.   It was so windy today, and others might not like the gusts, but the wind had blown all the clouds north, leaving the sky above Marietta a perfect brilliant blue, and the wind had made it hard to hear.

Because for a moment there, it sounded as if Charles said he wouldn’t marry her.  But that didn’t make sense.  He and his family were here.  The guests were here.  The minister was here, all in the church waiting.

Waiting.

Her stomach rose and fell.  She swallowed hard, fighting a sudden rush of nausea.  She hadn’t slept well last night, nervous.  Excited.

Excited, she silently insisted.  Not terrified.  Or sad.  She would never be sad.  This was the right decision.  This was the best decision.  It was.

It had to be.

“Can you say that again?” she asked him, fighting her veil and tamping down the horrible rush of adrenaline flooding her veins.  “I didn’t hear you, honey.”