Page 13 of CowSex
“I booked this place a while back and paid for the whole six months up front. Nobody contacted me to let me know of any cancellations.”
The sheriff’s radio crackles out what sounds like a voice disguised as static, and he replies, confirming that he’d cancelled the ambulance that had been called for my benefit.
While he’s distracted, I take a sneaky look at the cowboy and get so busted because he’s glaring right at me.
“Is there no way you could put off the renovations, Carmichael? Give Ms Elliott here some time to make alternative arrangements with regard to her accommodation?”
“No!”
“I’m not making alternative arrangements. I paid to stay here.”
We both speak at the same time.
“I’ll refund you. You’re not staying here.”
“Well, I’m not getting out. You’re obviously local; you can find somewhere else to kip. Surely, there’s someone out there willing to put up with your arsehole-ness.”
He moves to step towards me, all six odd foot of him and his very nice body. I put my hands on my hips and stare him down—or up—whatever. He stops when Nelson steps between us.
“Not on my watch, Carmichael. You might be a world-famous hotshot to some, but I remember the skinny kid thathadmanners and wouldn’t dream of putting his hands on a lady.”
Cowboy flinches at that comment, while I’m left wondering why he’s a world-famous hotshot. I’m pretty clued up on celebrities—it’s kinda my job to be—but I have no idea who this dude is.
Not a Scooby.
“What? I would never...I wasn’t gonna put my hands on her, even though she ripped half my beard out and sure as shit ain’t no lady.”
I stand my ground, hands on hips as I remain staring at him. As much as I’d like to, I don’t say a word. If I get lippy and he decides to kick me out, I have nowhere to go and no car to get there.
His eyes dart over my face and then travel down my body. He leans back against the worktop, crosses his long legs at the ankle, and takes a swig from his beer, never taking his eyes off some part of me.
“Son, it’s late, and I’m tired. It’s freezing cold outside with a snowstorm the size of Texas due to blow in and cause havoc for the next week at least.” Nelson pauses, lets out a long sigh, and takes off his hat before raking his fingers through the grey hair covering his head. He looks between the cowboy and me before continuing. “This is a big house. Surely, you could see your way clear to letting Ms Elliott stay here until she finds somewhere else?”
“I can’t stay here with him—” I bite my lip so hard I taste metal. What I really want to do is tell him to poke his shitty cabin as far up his arse as he can get it.
“You’ll be safe here with Carmichael; I promise you that. He might be an arsehole, as you so eloquently put it, but I’m pretty sure he’s still honourable.” Nelson gives me a wink. “Known him since he was a kid. He pretty much grew up in this house before he went off to college.”
I feel sick with tiredness and frustration. What the fuck am I supposed to do?
My gaze shifts back to the cowboy, and I watch as he chews on the bottom left corner of his lip, still frowning at me.
“Bedroom at the end of the landing, you can lock the door from the inside. The bed isn’t made up, and the room’ll be freezing, but if you open up the vents, it might be warm in about an hour. There are blankets in the closet outside the door, and it has its own bathroom.”
“Well, there ya go. That wasn’t too difficult, now was it?” Nelson points his hat in my direction. “Carmichael has my number, if you have any problems finding somewhere tomorrow, or need a ride to pick up a rental car, you be sure an’ let me know, Ms Elliott, ya hear me?”
“Thanks, I will. Thanks for everything, you’re a diamond.”
“Well, I’m not so sure about that, but it’s my pleasure, sweetheart.” He pauses and turns to the cowboy. “Now, you be nice and remember your damn manners, else you’ll have me to answer to.”
The cowboy gives a curt nod. “Yes, sir.”
Nelson lets himself out, leaving the cowboy and me to stare at each other in silence.
“Thank you for letting me stay.”
He shrugs his big broad shoulders, and I so wish he were skinny, scrawny, and as ugly as his personality, but he isn’t. He’s fit as fuck, and I just have to deal with that fact.
“Wasn’t a lot of choices, was there? Where the fuck were you going to go at this time of night in the middle of a storm?”
