The Cowboy Next Door (The Cash Brothers) (7 page)

“You’re more vampire than sorority girl. We’ll go with red.”

Shannon snorted. “Since when did you get into all this foolishness?”

“I own a gift shop that sells natural beauty products. I have to walk the talk if I want to convince customers that my soaps will make their skin look smooth and beautiful.” Dixie placed a foam form between Shannon’s toes, then applied a base coat on the nails. “Besides, men like painted toenails.”

“Men don’t notice a woman’s feet.”

“Oh, yes, they do.” Dixie’s eyes twinkled. “Until I met Gavin, I never knew that toes could play a role in foreplay.”

“Stop. I don’t want to hear any more.” Shannon covered her ears.

Dixie applied the first coat of red polish and Shannon admired her toes—they didn’t look half-bad.

“What are Matt and Luke up to these days?” Dixie asked.

“Busy preparing for a trial.”

“What kind of case are they working on?”

“They’re prosecuting a man for a gang-related murder along the border. Matt phoned the other day, but we didn’t talk long before he got another call.”

Dixie put away the polish and admired her handiwork. “You’re all set.” She straightened the blanket on the bed. “Next time I visit, I’ll give you a manicure.”

“Dixie...”

“What?”

“Thank you.”

“Text me if you need anything.” Dixie hugged Shannon.

As soon as the downstairs door shut, a feeling of melancholy swept through Shannon. At times she was jealous of Dixie and the love she and Gavin shared.

“Stop being a brat.” She had nothing to be sad about. She was making a name for herself in bull riding, and pretty soon she’d win a national title, which would prove she was the best rodeo cowgirl in the country.

* * *

A
BANGING
ON
the door roused Johnny at midnight. Hank barked from his pillow on the kitchen floor and he shushed the dog as he thrust his legs into the jeans he’d left on the floor by the bed. He wondered which one of his brothers had stopped by for a late-night visit.

“Shannon,” he said when he opened the door.

She moved past him on her crutches and entered the cabin. “I know it’s late but—” Her crutch caught on the edge of the rug and if not for his quick reflexes as he grabbed her around the waist, she’d have landed on her face. “Whoa.” He steadied her, his fingers enjoying the feel of her trim tummy. Reluctantly he released her and retrieved the fallen crutch. He noticed her perspiring face. “You shouldn’t have walked all the way over here.”

“I wouldn’t have to go anywhere on my crutches if you’d stop avoiding me.”

“I’m not avoiding you.” Embarrassed, he went to the fridge and got a bottle of water, then nodded to the sofa.

“We need to talk, Johnny.”

She was right. He’d been running away from this discussion for three weeks. “Okay.” When he handed her the water he noticed the toenails peeking out of the cast on her leg were painted red.

She caught him looking and said, “Your sister gave me a pedicure this morning.” She patted the cushion next to her, but he chose to sit in the chair. He’d gotten a whiff of bath soap and clean woman when she’d stumbled into his arms and there was no way he could sit next to her and not be tempted to touch her.

“About that night—” he said.

“My rodeo promoter Dale Carson’s been calling me nonstop.”

Startled, Johnny asked, “He’s not pushing you to come back before you’re ready, is he?”

“No. But there’s been a development since the Yuma rodeo.”

“What kind of development?”

“Apparently the rodeo fans that afternoon enjoyed the show you and C.J. put on behind the chutes.”

“What show?”

“Your scuffle?”

Johnny’s face reddened.

“The fans think you, me and C.J. are involved in some sort of love triangle.”

“What?”

“Dale said they’ve gotten hundreds of emails wanting to know who the Man in Black is.”

He waved a hand. “It’ll die down in another week or so.”

“That’s exactly what Dynasty Boots is afraid will happen if you and C.J. don’t vie for my attention in public.”

What?
“They want us to come to blows over you?”

“I don’t believe they expect you to take it that far, but they want to keep fans interested in my competition with C.J., so they don’t lose ticket sales while my leg is healing.”

“No.” He bolted from the chair and paced across the floor.

“Dale said he’d make it worth your while.”

“What do you mean?”

“If you’re willing to show up with me at two of C.J.’s upcoming events, Dynasty Boots will pay you five thousand dollars.”

Five thousand dollars?

She smiled. “It’s not bad for playacting.”

Johnny was still contemplating the money angle and it took a moment for the rest of her words to sink in.
Playacting?
What they’d shared in the motel room in Gila Bend sure hadn’t been playacting. Did she think it would be that easy to carry out this charade?

“Dale wants me and you to attend C.J.’s rodeo in Winslow at the end of September.”

“You shouldn’t be gallivanting all over the state with a broken leg.”

“Whether you take the money from Dynasty Boots and help me out or not, I’m going to Winslow.”

“You can’t drive with a cast on your leg.”

She reached for her crutches. “I use my right foot on the gas pedal and the brake.”

Johnny beat her to the door. “Let me take you up to the house in the truck.”

“No, thanks. I need the exercise.”

He stepped outside with her and held the crutches as she hopped down the porch steps.

“This is crazy, Shannon.”

“It’s five grand, two rodeos and a little playacting.” She took her crutches from him. “What are you afraid of?”

Plenty.

“Text me your answer tomorrow. I told Dale I’d get back to him by Monday night.”

Johnny watched Shannon hobble up to the house. Once she’d made it inside, he shut the door. Five thousand dollars was a lot of money—money that would pay the tax bill sitting in his truck.

But playacting? How the hell would he pull that off when he’d already experienced the payoff after all those heated looks and teasing touches?

Chapter Seven

The last Saturday in September Johnny stood next to Clive, one boot propped on the bottom rail of the corral and watched a cutting horse named Odyssey trot in circles. “How’s his temperament?” Johnny asked.

“Good. Doesn’t need much direction when you’re in the saddle.”

“You plan to sell him?”

“Depends—” Clive lifted the empty feed bucket off the ground and clanged it against the rail. Startled, Odyssey reared, pawing the air. “—on whether or not I can cure his fear of loud noises.”

“If you want me to work with him, let me know,” Johnny said.

“You’re doing me a favor by driving Shannon up to Winslow today.”

Shannon hadn’t told her father about the love-triangle idea Dynasty Boots had come up with to entertain rodeo fans, and Johnny wasn’t about to spill the beans now.

Three weeks had passed since Shannon had talked him into accepting the boot company’s offer of five thousand dollars and still neither one of them had brought up their one-night stand in Gila Bend.

“Don’t know why Shannon’s sponsor is making her show up at a rodeo she can’t compete in,” Clive said, “but I suppose she’s getting antsy. Can’t recall the last time she stayed at the ranch for more than a few days.”

Truth be told, Johnny was becoming antsy, too—not to leave the ranch but to settle things between him and Shannon. He’d done a heck of a job avoiding her since Clive had come back from Wyoming, but she was still on his mind morning until night.

“Watching the bull rides from the stands might give her a different perspective on the sport,” Johnny said. Maybe she wouldn’t be as eager to get back in the arena.

“I never should have allowed her to enter those mutton-bustin’ contests with Luke and Matt.”

“Doubt you could have stopped her. As long as I’ve known Shannon, she’s been determined to keep up with her brothers.”

“I thought she’d outgrow her tomboy ways, but she never did.” Clive shook his head. “I suppose not having a mother didn’t help.”

“Shannon’s made a name for herself in rodeo and she’s brought a lot of awareness to women’s bull riding.”

“I’d rather my daughter makes a name for herself cooking or running a gift shop like Dixie. At least I wouldn’t have to worry about her breaking her neck.”

The front door of the house opened and Shannon stepped out. A week ago the doctor had put her in a walking boot, and she was moving around with ease now. “I guess we’re ready to roll.” He and Clive met Shannon at Johnny’s truck, which he’d parked in front of the house.

“Dad, I’ll text you when we leave Winslow late this afternoon.” She flashed her father a smile.

“Take your time,” Clive said.

Johnny felt bad for the pair—the father and daughter loved each other, but they also disappointed each other. “We’ve got a five-hour drive ahead of us. We’d better get on the road if you need to be there by noon.”

Johnny honked as he pulled away. Sixty minutes into the trip and he was sweating from the tension in the cab. “Need to stop?” he asked when he passed the sign for Riverdale.

“No.”

Her sullenness irritated him. “What’s the matter?”

She finally looked at him. “You really don’t know?”

A sinking feeling settled in his gut. He gripped the wheel as if it was a life raft and guided the truck to the side of the road and shifted into Park.

“What are you doing?” she asked. “We’ll be late for the rodeo.”

“We might as well get this over with.”

“Hey, if you’d rather forget that we slept together, just say so.” She chopped the air with her hand. “Done.”

Shannon was right—they’d be late for the rodeo if he didn’t get back on the road. He shifted into Drive and merged into his lane. “You never brought it up until now, so I assumed you didn’t want to discuss it.”

She gasped. “You think I do one-night stands all the time?”

“No!” The skin over his knuckles glowed white and threatened to split open. “I just thought, you know...”

“No, I don’t know, Johnny. I have no idea what that night means to you. Why don’t you tell me?”

He gaped at her.

“Watch the road!”

Johnny straightened the wheel and the truck swerved back into the lane. “If you were expecting all kinds of flowery compliments and—”

“Do I look like the kind of woman who needs a man to praise her?” Then she added, “I just assumed you didn’t want to talk about that night because you didn’t enjoy it.”

“Enjoy it?” Now he was mad. He wasn’t a Don Juan by any means but he’d never had a woman not know he didn’t enjoy making love to her. The stress from days of ignoring his attraction to Shannon, days of agonizing over sleeping with her, days of not knowing how
she
felt about it, bubbled to the surface and his temper exploded. “That was the best damned sex I’ve ever had!”

Stunned silence echoed through the cab.
Way to go. Now Shannon can drag you around by your ears and stomp you flat.

“Me, too.”

Her quiet admission knocked the fight out of Johnny and he expelled a long breath.

“So where do we go from here?” she said.

“Nowhere.”

Her stare burned the side of his neck.

“I crossed the line with you, Shannon. I’m older. I should have known better. You had too much to drink that night and—”

“Three beers. I knew exactly whose clothes I was taking off.”

If his face grew any hotter it would melt. “Doesn’t matter. I’ve known you forever and I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you.”

“Maybe I took advantage of you.”

He glanced across the seat. Was she for real?

“Are you being stupid about this because you regret breaking up with Charlene?”

Stupid?
“I’m over Charlene.”

“Then why are you acting like what we did was a first-class felony?”

“You’re practically my sister!”

“I am not your sister, so you better not use that lame excuse.”

“Lame? I cleaned your skinned knees and—”

“You put bandages on them, too.” She laughed.

“It’s not funny, Shannon. You sat at our dinner table more often than you sat at your father’s.”

“That may be true, but I’m no longer a little girl. I’m all grown up. Didn’t you notice that in the shower?”

Hell, yes, he’d noticed.

“Are you worried about what my father might think?” she asked.

“Aren’t you worried?”

“No. My sex life is none of his business.”

“Are you going to tell him?” If Johnny lost his job, he’d have to come clean with his brothers about the farm’s financial troubles.

“I’m not going to tell my father.” She tapped her nail against the armrest on the door and the clicking sound grated on his nerves. “So you want to forget about sleeping together and call it a mistake?”

“I think that’s best, don’t you?”

“I suppose.”

This conversation hadn’t been as tough as he’d imagined it would be. If they’d had this talk the day after they’d slept together they might have spared themselves—at least him—all this anxiety. “Okay, then. We’ll forget about it.”

She snorted. “Already done.”

This was going to be a hell of a long day.

* * *

“T
HERE
YOU
GO
, Rebecca.” Shannon handed the autographed program to the little girl with dark pigtails, then watched her walk away with her mother.

“Can I take your picture together?” A man with plastic media credentials hanging from his neck motioned to C.J., who stood a few feet away signing his name across the belly of a beautiful blonde bimbo.

“Sure.” She nudged C.J. and when he scowled at her, she pointed to the reporter.

“Excuse me,” he told the blonde, then pulled Shannon close. As soon as the camera flash went off, he removed his arm. Another fan shouted, “Wait, I want a picture!” From then on it was a steady stream of fans snapping photos of her and C.J.

Shannon glanced at Johnny, who stood nearby watching. A short while ago he’d looked bored to death, but right now wisps of steam leaked from his ears.
Good.
It would serve him right if he was jealous after insisting it had been a mistake for them to sleep together.

She might be nine years younger than Johnny, but she wasn’t so naive that she hadn’t noticed the chemistry between them. It ticked her off that he didn’t want to admit they’d rung each other’s bells.

“How about a kiss!” someone in the crowd yelled.

C.J. quirked an eyebrow.

Oh, what the heck.
She lifted her chin and C.J.’s mouth drew closer. Just when she felt his breath caress her face, a hand spun her around.

“Isn’t it time for Rodriguez to get ready for his bull ride?” Johnny glared at C.J.

If having sex with her had been no big deal, Johnny sure had a funny way of showing it.

C.J. whispered in her ear. “I don’t think he’s playacting anymore.”

“Johnny’s right.” Shannon shoved C.J. “Your ride’s coming up.”

“I’m winning this one for Shannon,” C.J. boasted, and the fans shouted their encouragement as he and Johnny headed to the cowboy ready area.

When they arrived behind the chutes, Shannon checked the JumboTron and saw their images displayed across the screen.

“Gonna wish me luck, Cash?” C.J. taunted.

“Break a leg, Rodriguez.” A reporter nearby held up his iPhone, recording the exchange.

“Now, boys—” Shannon stepped between the men “—no fighting.”

“Stand back, Cash. I’ll show you how a winner competes at rodeo.”

“Or you’ll show me how they lose.”

Shannon glanced between the men, unsure if they were serious or pretending.

C.J. spoke to the cowboys by the chute. “Maybe Johnny Cash’ll sing the ‘Folsom Prison Blues’ for us.”

“You enjoy making fun of my name, don’t you?”

“Well, folks, it looks like C. J. Rodriguez and the Man in Black are quarreling again!”

The announcer’s voice startled the cowboys and they stepped apart.

“What’s going on down there, C.J.?” the announcer asked from the media booth. All of a sudden a microphone appeared in front of C.J.

“Johnny Cash doesn’t want to admit that I’m better at rodeo than he is.”

Johnny snatched the microphone from the reporter’s hand. “I’ll take you on any day, Rodriguez, just say the word.”

“I believe Johnny Cash has just thrown down the gauntlet,” the announcer said. “How would you folks like to see these two cowboys square off?”

Thunderous applause and boot stomping filled the arena.

The announcer chuckled. “And the winner gets a date with cowgirl Shannon Douglas.”

Shannon sidled up to Johnny. “You don’t have to do this.”

His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s just part of the show, right?”

“Let’s see who makes it to eight, Rodriguez,” Johnny spoke into the microphone. “But we’re riding broncs not bulls.”

“There you have it, folks, we got us a ride-off today!”

“You didn’t bring your gear,” Shannon pointed out to Johnny.

“He can use mine.” A cowboy in the crowd offered his saddle and rope.

“You sure?” Johnny asked.

“Happy to lend a hand to further the romance,” the man said. Another competitor offered his Kevlar vest and spurs, then nodded at C.J. and said, “Put the braggart in his place.”

“Sit back and watch the fireworks, folks. We got two cowboys who are going head-to-head in the saddle-bronc event. First up is C. J. Rodriguez.” Loud music exploded from the sound system and the JumboTron showed several cowboys riding broncs then faded to black.

“As many of you know, cowgirl Shannon Douglas suffered a bad wreck back in August on a bull named Heat Miser. A broken leg has put her competition with C.J. on hold for a while.” After the fans honored Shannon with a round of applause the announcer said, “Check out the JumboTron, folks.”

Good grief. Footage from Johnny and C.J.’s fight behind the chutes in Yuma played across the screen, inciting a frenzy of catcalls and whistles. “Looks like Johnny Cash and C. J. Rodriguez have a score to settle.”

Shannon gritted her teeth to keep from protesting the way this love triangle was being played out before rodeo fans.
Do it for the title.
She was close enough to achieving her dream of winning Cowgirl of the Year that putting up with a little sexist behavior wouldn’t kill her.

“C. J. Rodriguez is riding Big Bang, a bucker from the Pine Top Mountain Ranch in Colorado.”

Standing in the shadows, Shannon watched C.J. prepare for his ride. He was agitated—served him right. Now he knew how she’d felt when he’d baited her at the rodeos. C.J. glanced up and made eye contact with Shannon. She dutifully waved, then he brazenly blew her a kiss with his free hand. The crowd went nuts.

The gate opened and Big Bang went to work. C.J. hadn’t ridden a lot of broncs the past few months because of their bull riding competition and she noticed his spurring was off. By the third buck he was slipping in the saddle. The fourth buck sent him flying through the air. C.J. landed hard and was slow to get up, but he bowed toward the stands and the fans applauded his effort.

“Up next is Johnny Cash, coming out on Mud Bog, a four-year-old bucker from the Carlisle Ranch outside Payson, Arizona.”

Shannon inched closer to the chute, not caring if fans believed she favored Johnny over C.J. She was worried about Johnny—he hadn’t rodeoed in a long time—since he’d begun working full-time at the Triple D four weeks ago. If he hurt himself and couldn’t keep up with ranch chores, she didn’t want to be the one to tell her father how he’d gotten injured and why.

She climbed the rails next to Johnny as he worked the rope around his hand. “Are you sure you want to go through with this?”

“Don’t have much choice, do I?”

She lowered her voice, so the cowboys by the chute didn’t hear her. “You can scratch. A ride-off wasn’t part of the deal Dynasty Boots offered you.”

“I’m not scratching. Rodriguez’s head is already too big for his body.”

Men.

“Watch me kick his ass.”

Or get your backside stomped flat.
“Do you know anything about this horse?” she asked.

“He bucks high and tight and spins left.” A cowboy Shannon didn’t recognize spoke from behind her. “I rode Mud Bog in Houston earlier this year.”