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Bad News Cowboy
Bad News Cowboy

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She wasn’t a child now. She was a twenty-three-year-old virgin who had never even been kissed, who still ran like lightning through the grass and let her hair get tangled into a mess. And no matter how hard she tried to fight it, he still held his claim on that turf in her soul. The way Jack walked around doing what he wanted was more than a little appealing to someone who felt sheltered beyond reason.

Plus, the man was so hot it was entirely possible that women’s clothes incinerated on contact. And if that happened, what was a guy to do but say yes?

She clicked her teeth together, annoyance at her own self coursing through her veins. She was making excuses for him. And for her.

So, two things she knew. She wanted him. And she shouldn’t.

The rest she would have to figure out later.

CHAPTER SIX

THE ONLY PROBLEM with the weekday at the Farm and Garden was that it provided far too much time for thinking. Kate didn’t want to think. Not right now. At the moment her thoughts were lecherous and traitorous and she didn’t really want to deal with either thing.

But there had been very few customers today and she’d spent the past forty-five minutes dragging a giant hose around and watering the plants in the back. Which meant thinking.

About last night. About her misguided flirting attempt with Chad. About what a jerk he’d been. About the way Jack had looked when he’d strode up looking like an outlaw ready to start a gunfight. And then he’d punched Chad. She had no idea how something like that could be...sexy. Yes, it had been sexy.

Oh yeah, there was also the fact that she was acknowledging that Jack was sexy now.

Thankfully, there were still no customers or they would all have been looking at her blushing right now.

Then there was the flirting thing. He had offered to teach her how to flirt. With other men.

She’d spent the entire night in her bed tossing and turning, trying to figure out what to do with that offer. It was a weird, patronizing offer. One she would normally have been tempted to tell him to shove up his ass. But given her recent revelation, she was looking at it a little bit differently.

She was attracted to Jack. He had punched a guy for her, and it had been sexy. He wanted to teach her to flirt.

Doing the Jack math on that equation was leading her to some interesting places.

If he was giving flirting lessons, they would potentially find themselves in some interesting situations.

Situations that might give her an opportunity to try to seduce him.

She dropped the hose into the planter that was right in front of her, covering her face with both her hands. Seducing Jack. She’d never even thought of seducing a man before. Much less this man. The idea filled her with a strange kind of tingly horror and an excitement that mixed together so well she couldn’t sort out which one was which.

She supposed at this point it was all the same, really. The fear of the unknown, the fear of a missed opportunity.

But one had far fewer consequences, that was for sure. Because Jack was a person she had to deal with on a fairly regular basis. Of course, the problem with living in a small town was that any guy she chose to get involved with would be someone she had to deal with on a regular basis.

She was not in the market for relationship. She wanted to go pro with her barrel racing and that would mean traveling all over the place, which would not leave any time for a guy. Which, provided things wouldn’t get all weird after, actually made Jack the best bet of all. Because he wouldn’t want anything more, and neither did she. Because she knew him, knew he wasn’t, like, a secret ax murderer or anything. And because she trusted him.

That all had to count for something.

She pointed the hose at a little azalea that was placed in a pot on the ground. She was so focused on that, and on her seduction thoughts, that she didn’t realize she had company until said company spoke.

“If you keep making that face, it will get stuck that way.”

She jumped and splashed water on her hands with the hose, looking up to see Jack standing there grinning at her. “You scared the piss out of me!”

He made a face. “So that’s not all just from the hose?”

She looked down and saw she’d misdirected the stream and that the water was puddling at her feet. She scowled and directed it at the plants again. Her face was hot, embarrassment over her choice of words lashing her. Which was stupid, because she shouldn’t be embarrassed to say the normal things she always said in front of Jack. Seduction plans or no.

“What are you doing here?”

“You have two strikes against you already, Katie bear,” he said, dodging the question.

“How did I get strikes? I’m not playing baseball. I’m watering azaleas.”

“In the flirting game, little missy.”

She decided to ignore the fact that he’d called her little missy. “Is it three strikes in flirting, too?”

“No idea.”

“You’re supposed to be the expert.”

A slow grin spread over his face, the expression positively wicked. “I don’t know, because I’ve never struck out before.” She felt the heat in her face intensify, spread over her cheeks. “I made you blush. So I’m doing something right.”

“You’re not supposed to be practicing on me. I’m supposed to be practicing on you,” she said, irritated that she was so transparent.

“You might want to turn your hose off.”

She scowled and turned around, twisting the faucet handle then discarding the hose. “There. Off.”

“Lesson one—don’t look at the object of your affection like you want to stretch his scrotum out and wrap it around his neck.”

“But what if that’s what I want to do?” she asked, keeping her face purposefully blank.

“I didn’t realize you were kinky,” he said, arching a brow.

She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from reacting. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Jack.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, really. I’m a complex woman and shit.”

“Of course you are.” His blue eyes glittered with humor, and anger twisted her stomach. He still wasn’t taking her seriously. Still looking at her as if she was a little girl playing dress-up.

She’d never played dress-up in her damn life. Her mother had left when she was a baby, taking every frill, every pair of high heels, every string of pearls with her. And Kate had seen two things in her household. She had seen her father sit on the couch and waste away, and she had seen Eli and Connor get out every day and bust their butts to make a better life for her, for themselves.

So she’d worked. From the moment she’d been able to. And none of it had been a game.

If Jack thought this would be any different, then he hadn’t been paying attention.

“Somehow I don’t think you believe me,” she said, keeping her eyes locked with his.

“Sure I do.” He reached toward her, and her heart stuttered. Then he grabbed ahold of the end of her braid and tugged lightly, in that patronizing, brotherly way that he did.

And that was the end of her rope.

Kate was the kind of girl who rode harder and faster whenever there was a challenge placed in front of her. And this was no different.

So she tilted her head to the side, following the direction he was tugging her braid. And then she reached toward him, but since there was no braid to grab, she reached around behind his neck, sifting her fingers through his hair, ignoring the way a whole shower of sparks skittered from her fingertips to her palm, down to her wrist.

She made a fist, pulling gently on his dark hair. Then something different flared in his eyes. A heat that matched the one burning inside her stomach. The heat she had just identified last night.

Holy crap.

She took in a shaking breath, her heart pounding so loudly she was certain he could hear it.

She leaned in, running her tongue along the edge of her suddenly dry lips as she did. Jack’s posture went straight, his body shifting backward slightly, betraying the fact that she had now succeeded in making him uncomfortable.

The realization sent a surge of power through her, one that helped take the edge off the shaking in her knees. She moved her mouth close to his ear, the motion bringing her body in close to his, her breasts brushing against his chest, her pulse an echo like hoofbeats on the dirt.

She took a breath and was momentarily stunned by Jack. By his scent, clean and spicy, soap and skin. Being surrounded, enveloped, by his heat. By him.

A jolt of nerves shook her, and she felt tempted to bolt. And that temptation spurred her on. Because she didn’t run.

“If you were telling me a lie,” she said, lowering her voice to a whisper, “if you really think you know everything there is to know about me, I hope you consider yourself enlightened now.” She moved away from him, her cheek brushing against his, his stubble rasping against her sensitive skin.

The sensation sent a shock of pleasure straight down to her core. She looked up, her eyes clashing with his. They were close enough that if she leaned in just a fraction of an inch, the tips of their noses would touch. And from there, it would be only a breath between their lips.

Jack lifted his hand again, taking ahold of the end of her braid and wrapping his fist around it. But rather than giving it the gentle tug she had become accustomed to, he simply held her.

Kate’s heart thudded dully, her mouth so dry she felt as though she’d sucked on a piece of cotton. Everything in her was on hold, wondering what he would do next. Would he release his hold on her? Or would he pull harder on her braid, closing the distance between them?

Oh Lord, she could barely breathe.

Then he winked, releasing his grip on her and straightening, as though all of that tension between them had been imaginary. As though he hadn’t felt it at all. “Good job,” he said, his tone light, dismissive. “You might be a better student than I thought you would be.”

She cleared her throat and flipped her braid over her shoulder so he couldn’t grab it again. “Maybe I’m not the hopeless little innocent you think I am, Jack. Maybe—” she made direct eye contact with him, doing her best to look unflappable while she was internally quite flappy indeed “—there are a whole lot of things you don’t know about me.” Then she looked down, very purposefully, to the bulge just below his belt that she usually worked very hard to avoid looking at and back up, meeting his eyes again. Her heart was pounding so hard now she felt dizzy.

But she was going to win this weird game of one-upmanship they found themselves in, because she would be damned if she walked away with him still seeing her as a kid. With him making her feel like a kid.

“Maybe not.” His voice was rough now, sort of like she’d fantasized it might be when she’d imagined him propositioning her.

She opened her mouth to say something else, something sassy and sensual and undoubtedly perfect. Undoubtedly perfect before she was interrupted and unable to say it.

“Hi, Kate. Hello, Jack.”

Kate turned and saw her sister-in-law, Liss, standing there, her head tilted to the side, arms crossed over her rounded belly.

“Liss,” Jack said, nodding his head. “I have to run. See both of you later.”

He beat a hasty retreat, leaving her standing there alone with Liss.

“I thought I’d stop by and see if you had time for lunch. I’m in town grocery shopping and things. Generally killing time.”

Kate cleared her throat, feeling unaccountably guilty and as if she’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Her hand had been nowhere near Jack’s cookie jar. She had no cookies. So that was ridiculous. Still, her face was all hot. “Sorry, I can’t take a break yet. No one’s here to relieve me for another hour.”

Liss wrinkled her nose. “Okay. I’d love to wait for you, but I can’t. I need fried fish with more malt vinegar than one person should reasonably consume. And I need it now.”

“Yeah, go eat. I’m fine.”

Liss did not leave. Instead she stood there, rocking back on her heels, bunching her lips up and pulling them to the side before taking a deep breath. “Kate, I love Jack like a brother. You know that.”

Deeply uncomfortable anticipation gathered at the base of Kate’s skull and crawled upward, making her scalp prickle. “Yes. I know that.”

“He’s bad news, Kate. I mean, as far as women are concerned. Nobody’s going to reform him. Not even you.”

Kate inhaled, preparing to say something. To protest. But instead she ended up choking. She covered her mouth, trying to minimize the coughing fit that followed. When she straightened, tears were running down her cheeks and her throat felt raw. Liss had made no move to help her; rather, she was just standing there looking at her. “Why exactly did you think I needed that warning?” she asked, her voice sounding thin and reedy now, certainly not convincing.

“I see the way you look at him.”

“Can you look at someone a certain way? I just thought I was looking at him like I look at any normal human.” Lies.

“If you don’t need the warning, feel free to ignore me. But if there’s any chance you might need it, take it.”

Kate was just completely done being treated like everyone’s little sister. “Thank you,” she said, her voice tight. “I will keep that in mind just in case. Though I’m not sure if you noticed, but I’m not sixteen anymore. Or twelve.”

Liss was not cowed. “I did notice. And I bet I’m not the only one. Which is what concerns me. Older, more experienced women than you have suffered a bad case of the Jacks.”

“I’ve known him my entire life. I think it’s safe to say I’m immune.” Lies. Lies. Lies.

“Forget I said anything. Unless you need to remember that I said this,” Liss said, looking extremely skeptical.

“Okay. Should I ever feel like I’m in danger from Jack, I will remember this.”

“Great.” Liss continued gazing at her for longer than was strictly necessary. “Okay. I’m going to go eat.”

“Great. Enjoy your vinegar.”

“I will. In fact, I have to go quickly so that I don’t die.”

“Don’t die. Feed my little niece or nephew.”

Liss smiled, the weirdness from a moment ago dissipating. “Oh, I definitely will. No worries about the baby skipping meals. Or even going a couple of hours without. See you later, Kate.”

And Liss left, leaving Kate there alone to examine both what had just happened between Jack and herself and Liss’s observations.

She didn’t really care what Liss thought about Jack and whether or not he was good or bad news. Because that had nothing to do with how she felt about Jack. She was attracted to him. She didn’t want forever and ever and a picket fence with him.

Still, she was a little bit unnerved that Liss seemed to read her so well. It made her wonder if Connor and Eli could read her just as plainly.

She immediately dismissed that. Unless it was printed on the back of a cereal box, neither of her brothers were going to read too deeply into anything.

Anyway, there was nothing deep to read.

It was just a case of a little harmless desire. And if given the chance, she imagined she could burn it out nicely.

A slow smile crossed her lips. Yes, that was what she wanted.

And with her decision made, Kate went happily back to work.

* * *

JACK DID HIS absolute damnedest not to reflect on anything that had passed between Kate and himself in the past twenty-four hours. Because he was sitting in his living room with her two older brothers, his very best friends, men who were like brothers to him. Men who would snap him in half like a matchstick if they had any idea of the thoughts that had run through his mind earlier this morning.

No matter how fleeting said thoughts were.

They had been brief, but they had been way, way outside the boundaries of Safe Kate Thoughts.

For a moment there, when she’d curled her fingers through his hair, those serious dark eyes on his... Yeah, for a moment there he’d thought about cupping the back of her head and closing the distance between them...

And he was going to stop thinking now.

He heard a sudden and violent outburst of profanity and realized he’d missed something on the game.

“Pass interference my ass!” Connor shouted.

“Must be nice to have the refs in your pocket,” Eli grumbled, leaning back on the couch.

“Yeah,” Jack said, only pretending to have any clue what was happening.

Connor snorted. “I just got a profane text from Liss.”

“Is she watching the game in between female bonding moments?” Eli asked.

“You don’t think Sadie is watching the game?” Connor asked.

“She pays just enough attention to football to irritate all of us. Though I imagine that if Kate is around, she and Liss will have banded together to commandeer the remote.”

“Had we opted to watch the game as a group, I imagine she would have showed up wearing orange and black and rooting for the Beavers. Even though they aren’t playing.”

“You chose a real winner there, Eli,” Jack said, happy to be on any topic other than the one his brain seemed intent on focusing on.

“Our love transcends football,” Eli said, lifting a bottle of beer to his lips.

“And my love for Liss doesn’t have to,” Connor said.

“And I’m single, assholes,” Jack added, grinning broadly.

“I don’t envy you,” Eli said.

“Because you’ve forgotten.”

“Forgotten celibacy? Feeling lonely, depressed.” Connor shook his head. “No, I have not forgotten that.”

“Some of us are not celibate,” Jack said. Though, come to think of it, it had been a lot longer than usual since he’d picked someone up.

Which could explain some of the weirdness between him and Kate.

And now he was back to Kate.

“So you and Kate are working on a charity thing?” Eli asked.

A sharp sensation twinged in his chest. It was almost as though Eli could read his mind. Which was a dangerous thing right now. “Yeah. Has she mentioned much about it?”

“No, not really. I was curious.”

“Well, it isn’t just me and Kate,” he said, feeling unaccountably guilty. “We’ve got the whole amateur association involved. And I’m working toward reconnecting with some contacts in the pro association to get them to help, as well. So it’s a whole group effort.”

“To help Alison?” Connor asked.

His question had a tone to it. A suspicious tone. “Yes. Her and other women in her situation. I’m impressed with what she’s doing, improving not only her situation but the situations of others.” Which didn’t sound defensive at all. Not that he had any reason to feel defensive about Alison. It was the entire situation.

“Is there something going on with her?” This question came from Eli. “You and her, I mean.”

Jack was almost grateful they were so far offtrack. “No. I’m sure she’s lovely but hooking up with vulnerable women is not exactly my thing.” Which was a nice reminder. “They want what I’m not going to give.”

“You seem to be giving things,” Eli said.

Well, this was the story of his life. He couldn’t possibly be doing something nice just to do something nice. He must have ulterior motives. Probably extremely dishonorable ones.

“Because I’m a nice person, jackass.”

Eli held his hands up, palms out. “Of course you are.”

“I do selfless things.”

“Uh-huh,” Connor said.

“I have.” Maybe not very many.

“Fine. I believe you,” Eli said.

Jack snorted and stood up, making his way into the kitchen to grab another beer. Of course, he couldn’t be too mad, since Connor and Eli were his oldest friends and they had a lot more context for his behavior than most people did. Still, the citizens of Copper Ridge tended to sell him short. And yeah, some of that he’d earned. But not all of it.

He liked to make people laugh; he liked to provide a good time. He liked to have a good time. And somehow people tended to mistake that to mean he didn’t take anything seriously. As though his ranch ran on charm rather than labor. As though he had lucked into his position on the circuit.

Maybe if he did a good job organizing this charity thing, the town would have to realize that he had the ability to see something through. To do something right, to do something noble, even.

Yeah, noble wasn’t a word typically used to describe him.

Maybe, though...maybe he could get noticed for doing something good. Maybe he could change some things.

Everyone liked him well enough, but no one took him all that seriously. He wondered if that would change if the townspeople had any idea that he carried the same genes as the venerable West family.

No doubt it would, since the oldest of the West children had a fairly large scandal in his past, and yet the town never seemed to talk much about it. As though the influence of Nathan West was mixed into the mist, settling over everything. All-seeing, all-knowing.

But he had no claim to that name; he’d sold it when he was eighteen years old. A little bit of hush money to get his life going, to permanently separate himself from a man who had never given a damn about them anyway. It had seemed like a no-brainer at the time.

Now sometimes he felt a bit as if he’d sold himself. Pretty damn cheap, too.

And the Wests were part of the town—the mortar in half the brick buildings on Main Street. Jack felt somewhat obligated to slide under the radar. Oh, sure, he’d been a pro bull rider; he was a ladies’ man; he lived in the same town he was born in. The people paid him no mind, because they thought he was harmless. Thought he was laid-back. Thought he was haphazard, that he came by his successes accidentally.

They underestimated him, and he allowed it.

And he was pretty tired of it.

He jerked open the fridge and pulled out another bottle of beer before slamming the door shut again. Yeah, he was pretty damn tired of it. So he was going to put an end to it.

This charity rodeo was going to be a success. One of the biggest things Copper Ridge had ever been a part of. Maybe it would even be something that caught on. Something that was annual, at least here, if not in other counties.

It would be work. Hard work. And people would have to acknowledge that.

Hell, that was the entire point of his horse breeding operation. No one knew it. No one but him. But he was amassing a reputation for having some of the finer stock around, and he was most definitely gunning for Nathan West. To overthrow him. To diminish the man’s empire.

To meet the man at the top of his own game and beat him at it.

Maybe it was petty. To want something just so he could prove to the man who would never lower himself to call himself Jack’s father that he wasn’t just a little bastard brat who could be swept under the rug. That if he was given money, he wouldn’t just go drink himself into a stupor with it because he was poor and unworthy and didn’t know what to do with cash. Oh no, he was making himself legitimate competition.

And the old man had provided the seed money that allowed Jack to do it.

It was poetic justice, albeit private poetic justice, that he had been enjoying greatly for the past couple of years.

This would be just a slightly more public showing. The middle finger to his dad, a bid for legitimacy. A way to flaunt himself without violating their agreement. His dad’s dirty secret shining in the light, and even if no one else knew it, the old man would.

Yeah, he was all in. No question.

He turned and walked back into the living room, offering Eli and Connor a smile they didn’t see, since they were glued to the game.

“Since I’ve been a pretty awesome friend to you lousy pieces of flotsam and jetsam for the past twenty-some-odd years, I was thinking you could help out with the charity.”

“How?” Connor asked. “I feel invested in helping, if for no other reason than Eli and I saw the way that husband of Alison’s treated her.”

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