Page 78 of A Cowboy in the Streets

“That was a mistake,” he said, to my utter shock. “And I mean to rectify that now. You’ve proved your point. Everyone is talking about Belle’s performance today, saying she’s one to watch for next year. You’ve done what you came here to do. Now it’s time to come home.”

What the heck was happening right now? I couldn’t wrap my mind around it. “And do what? I already told you I’m not going to run the woman’s program for Blue Skies. I’m the head trainer at Lodestar. That would be a step down for me.”

“I’m not asking you to take a step down, James. I’m asking you to take the position that should have been yours already. Come back to Blue Skies, where you belong.”

I sucked in air. Was this really happening? Was my dad seriously offering the one thing I had wanted my whole life on a silver platter?

My eyes narrowed. Carl Campos had never once offered me anything on a silver platter. I’d had to work twice as hard, only to be constantly told I still wasn’t good enough. In high school, I had skipped parties and hangouts for barn chores. I had chosen a university close to home so I could continue working and my major—farm management—was chosen with Blue Skies in mind. When he told me I needed a wider experience, I went out and got it, even though it broke my heart to leave. Everything he asked me to do, I did it. It was never enough.

And now suddenly it was enough? Yeah, I was a little suspicious.

“What about Eli Stanford?” I asked. I had left California for Colorado the day before he had arrived at Blue Skies to start his new position as head trainer. Mom hadn’t said much about him in our weekly phone calls, but I assumed he had settled in fine.

Dad rocked back on his heels and pondered the mountains. “Eli is a little greener than I had reckoned. He doesn’t have your way. Not with horses. Not with people. He could use your guidance.”

“So…you’re demoting him? Firing him?” My forehead crinkled.

“He’ll stay on. As I said, he could use your guidance.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“You’re my daughter.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “That’s all the title you need.”

I stared at him. That had never been true. He had never allowed it to be true. Which would have been fine if I had sucked at my job or acted like an entitled brat. But I was good. One of the best, even. And I worked damn hard. The only thing that had stood in my way of being accepted as a boss and trainer had been him.

“Dad—”

“Don’t answer me now,” he cut me off. “Think on it some. Your mom and I will be here through the weekend.”

Chapter 32

Adam

Lisa Campos reminded me a lot of her daughter. Her smile came easy and she had the same big, bawdy laugh. I liked her immediately.

There were differences, of course. Where James had dark hair, her mom had blonde curls. I suspected the color wasn’t God given, but it suited her. James was a little more assessing, a little more thoughtful, behind that ever-present smile. But her mom had the same innate kindness—and was just as quick to say what was on her mind.

“What’s going on between you and my daughter?” she asked as I poured her a glass of white wine.

We were at the big house, celebrating Belle’s first-place win. Most everyone was out back on the patio, enjoying the warm summer evening, but James’s parents had followed me into the kitchen for drinks. And, I suspected, to grill me about James without her overhearing.

“That sounds like something you should ask James,” I said.

“What makes you think I didn’t?” Lisa’s laughter rumbled like her daughter’s. Big and delighted. “I’d like to hear why you think dating your employee is appropriate. Is this something you do often?”

I looked up. Her voice was sugary sweet, her smile bland, but I wasn’t fooled. If I gave her an answer she didn’t like, the rodeo queen would become mama bear in the blink of an eye.

“We’re two consenting adults who respect each other. There’s nothing inappropriate about it.” I handed her the glass of chilled wine. “And no, dating my employee isn’t something I do often. It’s not something I did at all.”

“Before James.” She sipped her wine, her gaze locked on mine above the rim of her glass.

“Now don’t go making this into something it isn’t,” Carl Campos warned his wife. “They’ve had a few dates, that’s all. I’ll take a glass of that wine, too. Thank you.”

A few dates? Is that what James told them? Technically, it was true. We spent more time fucking or lying in the bed of my truck, our fingers intertwined, talking about nothing and everything, than on actual dates. Still, it felt all kinds of wrong, hearing us defined like that. A few dates made it seem like this was nothing more than a casual summer fling. James meant a hell of a lot more than that to me.

She meant everything. I loved her.

Shit.

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