The Cowboy Next Door (The Cash Brothers) (2 page)

She held out a cardboard box filled with his toiletries and personal items. “If you’d like, I can fetch the two necklaces and pair of earrings you bought me.”

They’d been together seven years and that’s all he’d given her? “Those were gifts. I don’t want them back.” He shifted the box in his arms. “Good luck with—” He nodded to the door.

“Sean. We met at work.” Charlene kissed his cheek. “You’ll always be special to me, Johnny.”

“Take care,” he said.

The apartment door closed and the scraping sound of the dead bolt ended their seven-year relationship.

Johnny left the complex feeling as if an enormous weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He’d had good times with Charlene and she’d been the first woman he’d fallen in love with, but happy-ever-after hadn’t been in the cards for them.

Once he reached his truck, he decided he didn’t feel like being alone. He’d stop at a bar and properly mourn the end of his relationship with Charlene. She’d stuck it out with him for longer than most women would have, and the least he could do was drink a few beers and pretend she’d broken his heart.

* * *

S
HANNON
ENTERED
THE
W
HISKEY
River Saloon—not because she wanted a beer, but because she hoped to find C.J. in the midst of all the rowdy cowboys and buckle bunnies. She needed to talk sense into her
partner
before his actions jeopardized everything she’d worked so hard for.

She hated the strain between her and C.J., but if he didn’t rein in his wild ways and pretend they were a couple in public, she’d lose her shot at a national title. Both her brothers and her father had won rodeo titles and she was determined to win one, too.

If only she hadn’t fallen victim to C.J.’s charm when they’d first hit the road together, but she’d been no match for the womanizing cowboy and had stupidly believed he’d remain faithful to her after they made love. She’d learned her lesson the hard way when the very next day C.J. flirted with a rodeo groupie right in front of her. Whatever romantic feelings she once carried for him had died a quick death, which made acting like a lovesick couple all the more difficult.

She really didn’t care if he slept with other women, as long as he kept his liaisons private. If fans believed their romance was a big lie, ticket sales might plummet, then Dynasty Boots would pull their sponsorship—and there went her shot at the title.

“You here alone?”

Shannon felt the whisper of a breath near her ear. She spun and came face-to-face with Johnny Cash. “I’ll buy you a beer,” he said.

“I could use one, thanks.”

“Comin’ right up.”

Shannon watched Johnny saunter over to the bar, admiring the snug fit of his jeans. When he came back with their drinks, he motioned to a table on the other side of the dance floor. Once they were seated, she had trouble keeping her eyes off his face. Why had she never noticed how sexy his chiseled jaw was before now? “How’s Dixie?”

“She and Gavin are trying for another baby.”

Poor Dixie. She’d suffered a miscarriage last fall and although the pregnancy hadn’t been planned, she’d been devastated. “I hope everything goes well this time.”

A stilted silence grew between them and Shannon squirmed in her chair. Since when had she ever had trouble talking to Johnny? “I’m sorry you had to witness the spat between C.J. and me.” She picked at the label on the beer bottle and made a pile of confetti on the table. When she chanced a glance at Johnny, he was grinning. “What?”

“Like I said before, Rodriguez is a fool.” He saluted her with his beer, then took a swig.

Shannon fought a smile. Johnny had always made her feel better when she’d been down in the dumps. “Speaking of relationships, are you still with Sherry...Cheryl—”

“Charlene. We broke up.”

“I’m sorry. Dixie never said anything.”

“She doesn’t know yet.”

“So your breakup with Charlene is fairly recent?”

“You could say that, but we’ve been growing apart for a while.” He nodded to the crowded floor. “Care to dance?”

“Sure.” Shannon wasn’t in any hurry to go to the motel room and sleep, only to be jarred awake in the middle of the night from the headboard banging against the wall in the room next to hers as C.J. and his latest buckle bunny went at it.

Johnny held out his hand and she threaded her fingers through his, finding his callused grip comforting. He pulled her close and they swayed to the music, his six-foot-one frame towering over her five feet six inches. For as long as she’d known Johnny he’d made her feel safe.

“Where does Mack’s band play?” she asked.

“What?” Johnny bent his head, moving his ear close to her mouth.

She caught a whiff of cologne and breathed deeply. “I asked where Mack and his band performed.” Someone nudged Shannon from behind and her mouth bumped Johnny’s cheek. A tingling sensation spread through her lips.

He swung her away from the exuberant dance couple. “The Cowboy Rebels play the bars in Stagecoach.”

Before Shannon replied, a voice from behind her spoke. “Thanks for leaving me stranded at the rodeo.”

Her feet stopped moving and Johnny’s fingers tightened against her back as he swung her to face C.J.

“I assumed one of your bunnies would give you a ride into Yuma,” she said.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve complaining about me being with other women when you’re chasing after your own cowboys.” C.J. glared at Johnny.

She pulled her hand free from Johnny’s and said, “Can you give us a minute?”

After Johnny left the dance floor, C.J. twirled her between the other couples. “I want you to stop flirting with women at the rodeos,” she said.

“Jealous?”

“Hardly.” She snorted. “You’re not going to ruin my chances at a national title because you can’t stick to the script and pretend we’re a couple.”

“You really think you can beat me in Tucson?”

“Damn straight.” Her answer made him laugh.

“If you don’t keep your love interests out of the public eye, the fans will catch on that our romance is made-up and neither of us will win anything because Dynasty Boots will break our contract.”

C.J.’s expression sobered. “Okay, I’ll tell the ladies they have to sit in the bleachers with all the other fans.”

“And make sure you don’t leave the arena with any of your bunnies. Meet up with them somewhere else.”

“Same goes for you and the ‘Boy Named Sue.’” He nodded to Johnny.

C.J. could be a real ass sometimes, but she let his sarcasm slide. If not for the night he’d gotten drunk when they’d first hit the road together and spilled his guts about his traumatic childhood, she might never have fallen for him. Like her, he’d been raised by a single father until he was nine and his father was sent to prison for killing C.J.’s mother. C.J. spent the next several years shuffling between foster homes until he ran away at the age of fifteen. Rodeo was C.J.’s family and like most families there were some siblings you got along with and others you didn’t. For whatever reason, the Cash clan rubbed C.J. the wrong way.

“Johnny’s like a big brother to me. Nothing’s going to happen between us.”

“He didn’t act like a big brother earlier today.”

“Do we have a deal then?” She didn’t want to discuss Johnny.

“I’ll try my best.” He offered a cocky bow, then sauntered out of the bar.

“Ready for another beer?” Johnny asked a moment later.

Why not? It had been a long time since she’d let her hair down and enjoyed a few dances with a handsome cowboy—even if the cowboy happened to be her best friend’s brother.

Chapter Two

“One more dance,” Shannon whispered in Johnny’s ear.

Once Rodriguez had left the bar, Shannon had insisted on dancing up a storm—so much for mourning his breakup with Charlene. The band had left an hour ago and now oldies but goodies played on the jukebox. “How many beers have you had tonight?” he asked.

“Three.” She wiggled closer, her hips rubbing the front of his jeans with just enough friction to start a riot behind the zipper.

He’d done an admirable job pretending she didn’t arouse him, but each song they danced to, he found it more difficult to remember that Shannon was his sister’s best friend and the boss’s daughter. Time to end the torment. He took her hand and guided her toward the exit.

“Well, damn.” The curse floated from Shannon’s mouth as soon as they stepped outside the Whiskey River Saloon.

Johnny surveyed the dark parking lot. “What’s the matter?”

“He took off with the truck.”

“Who?”

“C.J. took the truck Dynasty Boots loaned us while we’re traveling the circuit.” She teetered toward Johnny.

“Whoa.” He steadied her and escorted her to his pickup. “I’ll give you a lift home.” He was glad Rodriguez had left Shannon stranded at the bar. She was in no shape to drive and she’d have put up a stink if he’d taken the keys from her.

“Not back to the ranch,” she said when he opened the passenger-side door. “C.J. and I have rooms at the Hacienda Motel in Yuma. We’re leaving early in the morning for California.” She fumbled with the seat belt and he helped her snap the buckle into place before hopping in on the driver’s side.

The drive to the motel took fifteen minutes, and Johnny parked in the back then walked her to the room. After two failed attempts to swipe the key card in the lock, he opened the door for her and flipped on the lights. “What about your things?” he asked.

“They’re in the truck with C.J.” She sank onto the end of the bed and tugged off her boots.

Johnny checked the bathroom for boogeymen and made sure the window was locked. When he faced Shannon, she wore only a black lace bra and matching panties.

Wow.
There was nothing little girl about her underwear and her body was sexy as hell—her athleticism evident in her toned arms, sinewy thighs and six-pack abs.

“You better catch some sleep,” he mumbled, averting his eyes. When he made a move for the door, she stepped in his path. Their gazes locked. Her green eyes glinted with desire as she licked her lips. The air in the room evaporated, leaving him light-headed. He’d seen Shannon lick plenty of things through the years—Popsicles, suckers and Oreo cookie cream, but never had he watched her roll her tongue across her lower lip and stare at him as if he were a big juicy steak.

She reached for his shirt and ripped the snaps open. The rush of cool air hitting his chest hardened his nipples. Then her hands fumbled with his belt as she pressed her mouth against his and kissed him.

The brush of her lips coincided with the soft bump of her lace-covered breasts against his chest, triggering a rush of testosterone through his bloodstream. He let her deepen the kiss, confident in his ability to stop her in a second...maybe a minute...maybe never.

His shirt ended up on the floor, and then her hand slipped inside his jeans. He meant to move away, but instead, he trapped her fingers against him and thrust his tongue inside her mouth. She moaned but broke off the kiss and walked to the bathroom, where she stopped in the doorway and crooked her finger.

For a split second he considered making a break for the door, but then the next thing he knew he was standing in the middle of the bathroom and Shannon was tugging his boots off and pushing his jeans down his legs. Her bra and panties joined his clothes on the floor before they stepped under the spray of warm water, made all the hotter by the heat radiating off his skin. She soaped his body, each caress driving him closer to the edge. Then it was his turn, and he made sure every inch of her was sparkling clean.

After rinsing off, they toweled each other dry and kissed their way back to the bed, where she collapsed onto the mattress and he sprawled across her.

“My wallet’s on the floor in the bathroom.” He nibbled her breast before leaving her to retrieve a condom.

When he returned, Shannon lay on the bed like a bewitching siren, her damp hair spread across the pillow, her green eyes beckoning. His last sane thought as he sheathed himself was how surreal the moment felt and that he hoped he’d never wake up from this fantasy.

* * *

J
OHNNY
WOKE
TO
the feel of Shannon snuggled against his side. He took shallow breaths and lay motionless—afraid to wake her. Afraid to confront what had just happened.

The morning sun peeked through the one-inch gap between the drapes and the air conditioner—illuminating the room enough that he could see Shannon’s face. He swallowed hard. With her eyes closed and her mouth slightly open, she looked younger than her twenty-four years.

What in the hell had he done?

He closed his eyes and silently cursed.

She’s practically your sister.

Last night Shannon hadn’t behaved like a little sister and he hadn’t behaved like a big brother. What was the matter with him? He should have been looking out for her, not taking advantage of her.

She’s too young for you.

Nine years separated them. She might be younger, but she seemed older—maybe because she’d grown up in an all-male household and had learned to be tough and independent practically from birth. If their age difference wasn’t enough to convince him to leave her alone then the fact that her father had hired him as the new foreman of the Triple D should be reason enough to keep his hands to himself.

He couldn’t afford to screw up his job with Shannon’s father. He needed the steady income to pay the mortgage on the farm until he found an agricultural company to lease the orchards. The pecan grove had been in the family four generations and losing the land would cause Johnny’s grandfather to roll over in his grave. As his mother’s firstborn, he’d experienced a special bond with his grandfather—the old man had offered a guiding hand when Johnny’s own father had wanted nothing to do with raising him. Johnny would do everything in his power to ensure the farm remained in the family.

Shannon stretched lazily against his side, her fingers caressing his groin. A shock, strong enough to jump-start his heart, raced through his body. He should grab his clothes and split, but someone had to be the grown-up this morning.

Before he talked himself into making love to her for a third time, he rolled off the mattress and escaped to the bathroom, where he took a cold shower and dressed in yesterday’s clothes. When he stepped into the bedroom, Shannon was sitting up against the headboard, the sheet tucked beneath her arms—thank God. Telling her that what they’d shared had been a mistake would be impossible if he had to stare at her naked breasts.

Shannon waited for Johnny to make eye contact. Sex with him had been amazing. She never would have guessed that she and Dixie’s brother would have hit it off in bed the way they had.

Finally he looked at her. “We need to talk about what happened,” he said.

Boy, howdy, did they. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand, then silently cursed and leaped from the bed, dragging the sheet with her. “C.J. and I have to leave in fifteen minutes,” she said, shutting the bathroom door in Johnny’s face.

She made quick use of the facilities then, realizing her clothes were in the other room, she wrapped the sheet around her and opened the door. Johnny stood by the window holding her bra and panties.

“I’m sorry, Shannon.” He grimaced. “I accept full blame—” his gaze cut to the bed “—for what happened.”

Sorry?
Swell, just what every girl yearns to hear the morning after.

She snatched her lingerie from his hand. He might act like making love hadn’t been a big deal—but they both knew they’d set the sheets on fire. Even though she’d been with only three guys—Johnny being one of them—their lovemaking was unlike anything she’d experienced before, and she knew he’d enjoyed it, because he’d been pretty darn vocal.

He spun when she dropped the sheet to put on her panties. “Seems like just yesterday I was bandaging your knees and wiping your runny nose.”

“You’re nine years my senior. So what?” Obviously their age difference bothered him.

“Old enough to know better.”

“I’m decent now.”

“Like I said, I’m sorry.” Gaze glued to the tips of his boots, Johnny walked to the door. “Good luck at the rodeo. Drive safe.”

Then he was gone.

Tears burned her eyes, but she held them at bay and blamed her wishy-washy emotions on too little sleep. After she tugged on her boots, she carried the truck keys and her cell phone outside to see if C.J. had come back to the motel or spent the night somewhere else.

Johnny’s truck was gone from its parking spot—he’d wasted no time making a getaway. She shielded her eyes from the sun and scanned the rows of vehicles. There in the back sat the familiar black Dodge with the big red-and-yellow boot painted on the door. While she waited for C.J. she might as well phone her father—maybe it would take her mind off of Johnny.

Shannon cut through the lot toward the truck and punched the number 7 on her speed dial. “Hey, Dad, did I catch you at a bad time?”

“No, I’m on my way to the barn.”

Good. Short phone calls were best between them.

“I won yesterday in Gila Bend.”

“Congratulations,” he said.

As much as Shannon loved her father, just once she’d like to hear excitement in his voice when they talked about her rodeo career. She knew he didn’t believe women should ride bulls—neither did her brothers, but she’d been competing in roughstock events since high school and that’s what she knew how to do best.

“I’m getting closer to winning that title, Dad. I can almost taste it.” Her father had been a National Champion in bareback riding and both her brothers had won rodeo titles—Luke in bull riding and Matt in team roping. National titles were in the Douglas DNA and Shannon intended to earn one herself.

“You comin’ home soon?” he asked.

“C.J. and I are traveling to California, but we’ll be back at the end of the month to compete in Yuma. Maybe you can come watch me.” Silence greeted her suggestion.

What happened to the man who’d praised her when she’d been a little girl beating out the boys in all the mutton bustin’ competitions? Back then, her father hadn’t cared that she acted like a boy. Then one day she woke up with breasts and suddenly he insisted she quit rodeo.

Time to change the subject. “How are things at the ranch?”

“Might have a buyer for Cinnamon.”

After her mother had walked out on the family when Shannon was three, her father had focused his energy on growing his cutting horse operation. Now that her brothers were busy with their law practice in Yuma and she traveled the circuit all year, most of the horse training fell on his shoulders.

“Is Roger excited about retiring?” The foreman had worked at the ranch for over three decades. This past year, he’d fallen and broken his hip, requiring a hip-replacement operation. Her father had finally convinced the seventy-five-year-old man that it was time to put away the branding iron.

“You know Roger. He doesn’t have a whole lot to say,” her father said.

Maybe not, but Shannon bet the ranch hand looked forward to spending time with his sister in Florida. “Have you hired anyone to take his place?” Aside from raising cutting horses her father ran a small herd of cattle on the property—more than enough work to keep two men busy.

“Johnny Cash.”

Shannon sucked in a quiet breath. Why hadn’t Johnny told her he was the new foreman? No wonder he’d beat a hasty retreat this morning. He was probably worried how her father would react if he found out about their tryst.

“Johnny’s not starting until Roger clears his things out in a couple of weeks.”

“That’s great.”

The motel door opened and C.J. stepped outside in a pair of black boxers and white tube socks. When he spotted her, he waved.

“Gotta go, Dad.”

“Good luck in California.”

The words weren’t heartfelt, but Shannon gave her father credit for saying them. “I love you” dangled on the tip of her tongue, but instead she said, “Call you soon.” She shoved the phone into her jeans pocket.

“Who you talkin’ to?” C.J. asked.

“Nobody.” As she stared at his muscular chest and bulging biceps, an image of Johnny’s leaner athletic build flashed before her eyes. If viewing a man’s naked chest was all it took to trigger the memory of her and Johnny’s lovemaking, then she was in big trouble, because cowboys were always changing their shirts behind the chutes.

She checked the time on her cell phone. Eight o’clock. “We’ve got to be at the fairgrounds in Glendale by one-thirty.” Glendale, California, was four and a half hours away. “I’m leaving in ten minutes with or without you.” She got into the truck and started it, then adjusted the air conditioner to cool down the cab.

With less than a minute to spare, C.J. stowed his gear in the backseat. She didn’t wait for him to put on his seat belt before peeling away like a bat out of hell.

“You pissed off about Veronica?”

The buckle bunny would be history soon enough, seeing how C.J. blew through women faster than a dust devil bounced across the desert.

When she remained quiet, he said, “I’m gonna try harder to keep my love life private.” He tugged on his boots. “Maybe we should ham it up more for the fans.”

The last thing she wanted to do in public was act like an idiot over the womanizing cowboy. “Our normal routine has worked fine so far. Why mess with it?” The most she and C.J. had done in front of the cameras was hug and exchange high fives.

“I bet the fans want to see us kiss.”

Fat chance.
“They’ll have to settle for fantasizing about us kissing.”

“You’re a hard woman, Shannon.”

She’d learned from the best—her father. She jacked up the volume on the radio. C.J. leaned his head against the seat, tipped his hat over his face and fell asleep.