Page 3 of Any Cowboy of Mine
As he pulled into the parking lot, the light on the edge of the horizon just starting to peek through, he called the only person who would be able to shed some light and sprinkle some humor on the situation he was in. His friend, Steve, picked up on the first ring.
“Happy Monday, pal.”
“Is it?” Brad asked.
Steve chuckled. “What’s up, man? Wanna get some breakfast? I’m gonna head into town later, and it sounds like you might wanna talk.”
“I do, but I just got to work.”
“Jesus. It’s still dark out, man. Why’re you even out of bed?”
“It’s eight a.m., Steve, not midnight.”
“Yeah, but the Seahawks took a hit last night, so it might as well be Saturday morning the way my liver feels. And my head. Ooh, that sucker’s mad at me too.”
It was Brad’s turn to laugh. “Some of us have to work no matter how the Seahawks perform,” he chided.
“Nah, you don’thaveto. Not like you got to take care of that woman anymore, or that your zero dollars from the library would have helped with that anyway.”
“Ouch,” Brad joked. “Too soon, bud, too soon.”
“Plus, you’re gonna be a big movie star, right?”
“Not quite. My novel will be the star, I’ll just be a byline at the end of the credits.”
“Whatever. Same diff. Congrats, man. You deserve it. Jules must be mad as hell that she blew it just before the good stuff started rollin’ in.”
“One can only hope. But still, I gotta get through today.”
“You don’t ‘gotta.’ Just be like the rest of ’em—throw some money at the library and call it a day. Come ice fishing with me.”
“It sounds enticing,” Brad admitted. Maybe he’d find a way to donate some of the proceeds from the movie deal to a new library wing. It wasn’t a half-bad idea. “Anyway, I do have to talk to you. Some interesting developments that I could use your expertise on. Could you come by the library later, whenever you deign to get out of bed?”
“I think I can manage that. Why don’t I pick up Joe’s for lunch?”
Brad’s mouth watered at the mention of Joe’s subs. They were part of the reason he could never see moving out of Montana, especially Banberry. Joe was a friend of theirs who had quit his job as a manager of a major Northwest supermarket chain to open up his own sandwich shop because, as he put it, “This town eats like shit and has shit for choices on where to eat.” He’d opened five years ago, and at lunch time, there hadn’t been a day when there wasn’t a line around the block. It was successful enough that he could open a bar as well—Cowboy Joe’s, the guys’ favorite watering hole within Banberry town limits.
“Sounds good. See you soon.”
“Later.” Steve hung up first.
Brad reluctantly turned off the truck, less than thrilled about the biting cold that would envelop him when he left the heated comfort of his ’20 Tundra. He’d have to really consider relishing in at least one of the perks of making it big—no need for a job.
Until then, he would just have to slog through the sifting of books and his emotions until Steve could come and relieve him. Man, what a day this had turned out to be, and it was only eight a.m.
CHAPTER TWO
The Question
Sophie tore throughthe closet, scowling at her clothes like it was their fault she couldn’t decide what to wear. Tonight was the biggest night of her life, and it had to be perfect, at least on her end. She pulled an emerald-green lace dress out and ran her hands over the material. It fit her beautifully, but it would be too tight to sit in at dinner. She let it settle into its color-coded place among the other frocks she’d already deemed less-than-worthy, and went to sit on her bed.
She screamed into one of her faux-feather pillows as loud as she could, her breath hot on her own cheeks. If only she didn’t have to worry about what she wore, or said, when Drew asked her out, but there wasn’t a day in their relationship she’d felt comfortable.
Her mom kept telling her that wasn’t normal, that after five years—heck, after one—Sophie should be settled in her relationship with Drew. But it wasn’t that simple. Sophie appreciated that Drew made her want more for herself, that he just wanted her to be the best that she could be.
And she was the best version of herself. Drew had finally convinced her to study for the bar, and now, four years later, she was up for partner at his firm. There wasn’t anything wrong with that, she’d sassed her mom. Sophie believed it, too, despite her mom muttering, “Sure, that’s good motivation if he’s yourboss, not your boyfriend,” under her breath.
None of that mattered anymore since tonight—tonight, tonight!—Drew was going to propose. He’d called her into his office at work on Monday and asked her to pick out something sexy and over-the-top to wear to dinner Friday night. Friday night was one week before their fifth anniversary. When she’d coyly asked him why and where they were going, he’d told her Chez Moi, and because why couldn’t he take his favorite girl out for a romantic night in town?
