Page 3 of The Cowboy's Off Limits Option

"Come up to the Ridge and hang out with me while I paint," Ginger tells me when she sees me staring into my empty coppermug, "Current has a couple of single brothers, and my land lady's grandson is smoking hot if you're into that bad boy thing."

She wiggles her eyebrows at me, looks up at the bar and throws up a peace sign. Oh. I guess that's actually a two. As in, two more drinks.

"Not my vibe." I shrug, "I'm not big on beards."

"Puh-leeze, if Dean O'Leary walked in here with whiskers to his knees--"

"Shut up!" If we were alone at Ginger's place where no one could overhear her, I'd be laughing my ass off. Because she's right. If Archer Dean grew a beard, it'd be the sexiest beard that ever bearded. But O'Hare's pub is the bar where all the ranchers hang out. It's full of people that work on the Delta O, and guys from all over town that know my brother. I can't have my bestie tipsily shouting Archer's name like that.

"Why don't you just make a move already?" Ginger sips at the new cocktail that's been delivered to our table, dropping her voice to a respectable level and looking at me with sympathy in her eyes. "Just tell him he's the guy you've been waiting on and ask him to take care of business."

Choking, either from the bourbon or Ginger's bluntness, I shake my head vehemently.

"One, I could never do that! I'm not you. Two, I don't want him to 'take care of business,' Ginge, I want..." Sighing heavily, I sip, wave my hand in circles as if it's the universal gesture for what I'm getting at, and go on, "...you know, I want the whole picture. And, most importantly, you know Rowan will kill any guy that touches me. I should have dated while I was away at school."

"But you didn't. Because you are going to die on the hill that is Archer Dean O'Leary."

"I'm destined to die a virgin."

"Cal, you're a grown woman now. You run your own business. I know you-- you want a family of your own. Maybe it's time you set your brother straight on who the gatekeeper of your panties is.

"Brothers are supposed to beat up guys who break your heart, not stand in your way of finding happily ever after."

"Maybe," I concede, "if it was anyone but Archer."

Ginger rolls her eyes and mimics "Archer" with a giggle. "Since when is it 'Archer' anyway? He was always just plain old Dean when we were growing up."

"I dunno. His people always called him by his first name. I think he started using it more after his dad passed away. Seems like all the O'Leary boys have done their growing up over this last summer."

Ginger stirs and sips thoughtfully, "I hear Ranger moved back too."

"And brought a girl home with him," I point out. "Gunner's getting married too."

"You know how these things go, Cal; once one of 'em marries up, the others fall like dominoes. Your window of opportunity is closing, you should shoot your shot before Dean ends up with someone else."

Rolling my eyes, I give my drink more attention than it calls for.

"Yeah right," I mutter, "Even if my brother wasn't an overprotective asshole; Archer still sees me as that little girl making mud pies with you."

When he sees me at all, that is.

It's for the best: he'll find some girl to marry and then he'll be the kind of off-limits that I can't fantasize ways of getting around. Then I'll have to give up on him for good and maybe I can finally get on with my life.

"I think the only person who still thinks you're a little girl making mud pies, is you, Cal. It's okay to grow up, make a play for the things you really want-- find out if they want you too. You can't move on if you don't move past."

Ginger drains her drink in one last swig and gives me a glassy-eyed smile.

"And for fuck's sake, tell your brother to stop with the clam jam."

"Ohmygod!" Maybe it's the drinks, or maybe it's really that funny, but I can't stop giggling. "I cannot believe you just said 'clam jam' unironically! I'm cutting you off!"

Archer Dean

"I'm just saying notto overlook her, honey."

Mom fusses with the pots hanging from the overhead rack Dad made out of welded horseshoes back when I was still little. She finally chooses a large saucepan and sets it on the stove, humming absently while she works and barely paying attention to my protests.

"She's Rowan's little sister, Mom, you know how he is about her."

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