Page 40 of Rogue Cowboy
“Good one,” Petal said, high-fiving her friend.“The cowboy and the cowgirl.Original,” Petal deadpanned.“So we have our hero and our heroine.What trope do you think?”
“Enemies to lovers.”Arlo made claws with her hands and then laughed.
“Hilarious.”Petal held out her palm so Cole could slap it.“You’re safe.Riley couldn’t be mean if she tried.”
“I’m counting on it,” Cole said, not sure what a trope was, but happy to play hero in their game.
I have some time coming.I could fly into Bozeman before heading to Last Stand.
Sorry.It’s been twenty-one hours and sixteen minutes.Totally unfair.Your text threw me off.I couldn’t think what I should say.
Say what you mean.
Not so easy.Time doesn’t always provide clarity.
Depends on how you’re using the time.
Ouch.Direct hit.
Friendly fire.
Still fire.And well deserved.I’ll take the friend part, hold it close.
Chapter Eight
“Hey, girl.”TuckerWilder’s warm honey voice with the sexy husk broke into Riley’s contemplation of two embroidered blouses at Marietta’s Western Wear store.“What are you doing in here without your Texas hottie?I thought he was glued to your side.”
Riley flushed a little.“He’s not my hottie,” she denied.
“Please.”Tucker’s eye roll said what she thought of that denial.“A man that fine is meant to be showed off.”
Riley laughed.She could never tell when Tucker was being serious unless it was something about horses—then she was knowledgeable and endlessly helpful.Riley had always idolized Tucker.Still did.
“He is…all that,” Riley admitted, though she held back her opinion that she wasn’t ready for any of that.
“The way he looks at you is for real, Riley,” Tucker said, a little more soberly.“And that just might scare the boots off a free-spirited, creative cowgirl like you.I know when I met Laird, I didn’t know my head from my ass.He was so different.Wide open.Vulnerable.No BS.And he looked at me like I was the answer to a question I was too afraid to ask.”
“That about sums it up,” Riley said glumly.“Cole’s so generous of spirit and patient, I can’t do any of my dodge moves.”
“Maybe it’s time to stop dodging.”Tucker shoulder-bumped her.“You looking for something to wear to the steak dinner that wows him?”
Was she?
Dang, she was.
But what will I do then if he’s wowed?
“I wasn’t planning to go to the barbecue or the steak dinner.I was going to stay with the horses the whole time so my family and a couple of the ranch hands could cut loose for the whole night.”
“But now you have a gentleman cowboy caller,” Tucker intoned in a singsong voice.“Sacrifices to the gods of kick up your boots and have some fun must be made.”
“Yeah,” Riley said steeling her willpower and shoving the blouses back on the rack.Yes, they were feminine and beautiful, but she didn’t need new, pretty blouses and had no business spending money embracing vanity.She no longer sought the limelight and would never wear the blouse again when Cole returned home.
“What vibe you going for?”Tucker asked, pausing from perusing the gauzy sundresses.
Riley paused.It had been so long since she discussed clothes with a girlfriend—forever maybe.Riley’s mom had sewn her competition blouses and a lot of her dresses when she sang at open mics—colorful, but conservative—and her manager in LA chose what she wore and then hired a stylist and together they decided what she wore, where she appeared, what she sang and what she said, what she ate, who she performed with, and the eventual band she signed with.Nothing had been her choice except that stolen weekend with Cole.
“I don’t need anything,” Riley said, well aware of how careful her parents and family were with finances—everyone contributing.“But…wasn’t counting on Cole arriving and even though there’s no future in it, I just…”
