Page 58 of Any Cowboy of Mine
“Of course not, dear. I did that myself just this morning. Now you run along and tell that son of mine I’m proud of him and let me start to thaw out my wife.” Alan strode in the gate with a bounce in his step. Sophie smiled thinking about Marge finding out she’d been usurped by her own husband. In more ways than one.
She knew then, without having to ask Alan, that Marge had lied to Sophie at the hotel. She may never know why, but she did know she could trust Brad.
Sophie got in her car, her stomach flipping around like a bunch of seals at the zoo. Alan was right. If she wanted this, she had to fight for it, and heaven help the poor sap that tried to get in the way of her and Brad, of the happiness she knew in her heart she deserved. All that was left was to tell Brad the way she felt, that he wasn’t the only one falling in love. Then, together, they’d take down Julia and Marge. In that order.
As she drove toward town and closed in on the library, Sophie found it remarkable that it was only twelve hours into the new year, yet so much had changed. She was off to one hell of a new start, and she couldn’t wait to see where it led.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Rebuilding
Brad stared athis notes, his mouth as dry as the Sahara Desert. He’d been pounding away fruitlessly at his computer, willing the words to come, but unlike his last heartbreak with Julia, this time his mind was actually blank. It was his heart that screamed, but he could hardly understand it, let alone translate the feelings to paper. Especially not with the crime scene he was trying to write. He’d considered killing off the female love interest and the mother in one fiery, violent explosion, but couldn’t find a way to work it into the story. It would solve the injunction problem that was needling him but only for future novels. It didn’t fix a damn thing that he’d done before, and that was the movie deal contract.
He couldn’t afford to think about how close he was to losing every damn thing he’d done to make a career for himself. He had a meeting with his publishing team, including a set of lawyers they held on retainer for such instances that afternoon. He also had the first hundred pages due by the end of the week. His publishers had advised that he keep writing so once this was taken care of, they could stick with the printing schedule.
Yeah, right. Like it was that easy.
His half-baked ideas were still tumbling around in his head when his phone rang. Seeing his dad’s name on the caller ID gave him momentary relief. He’d been Brad’s beta reader for each novel, so he knew where the series was heading. Maybe he could shed some much-needed light on this grisly murder scene that certainly wasn’t writing itself.
“Hey, Pop. Perfect timing. You got a sec to talk plot? I’m stuck, like the kind of stuck I was between book one and two.” Brad shoved his hands in his hair and pulled. The pain woke him up but did nothing to inspire words to his fingertips.
“You know I’ll always make time for your work, but actually, son, I’m calling to warn you that you don’t have much time. Sophie’s on her way to ya while we jabber on. The book’ll have to wait.” Brad, for the second time that day, was lost for words. He finally, after more than a dramatic pause, put the phone back to his ear.
“How’d she know where I was?” The scowl on Brad’s face became a grimace.
“She came to the farm. I caught her on the way out, after your mother’d had some time alone with her, so I can’t guarantee the attitude she’ll have when she gets there.” Brad’s dad chuckled, but what he found funny about any of this, Brad couldn’t fathom.
“Yeah, but why’d you tell her I was working, Dad?” Brad asked. Jesus, he sounded like a whiny chump. “Did I tell you I spilled all of my feelings to her, vomited them at her feet, and she left Steve’s party last night with her ex-boyfriend? Why the hell would I want to see her? After Julia and Sophie, I don’t want you sending any women my way.” Brad tried unsuccessfully to smooth his hair back to normal, the phone wedged between his neck and ear. He paced the long hallway by the library employee break room, waved at the two part-timers who were in a discussion about the latest John Greene novel. By his third time through, the other librarians stopped looking up.
“Son, I don’t know what happened between her and him, but neither do you. Remember how it looked with you and Julia last week. She certainly doesn’t owe you an explanation, but you be sure to let her give one if she offers it, ’specially since she gave you the same courtesy.”
Brad groaned. As usual, his father was right, but that didn’t make Brad any more comfortable with seeing Sophie in person so she could break his heart face-to-face. “Yeah, I’ll give you that one, Dad. What’s Mom’s take?”
His father let out a high-pitched squeal, followed by loud, raucous laughter.
“Oh, son, you know as well as I do that she’s a hot mess when it comes to you and your love life. She just wants you to be happy, but she doesn’t always know how to show it. I don’t reckon that Betsy threatening to ruin your good name if anyone found out about the cheating helped any. You kinda screwed the pooch with that one, son. Your books are a tell-all, aren’t they?”
Alan chuckled some more, while Brad sat there with his nose pinched between his fingers.
“Yeah, I’m paying for that in more ways than one, Pop. You think that’s why Mom’s mad? That she’s worried Julia’s family will drag our name around the valley dirt? Why does she care about any of that? People know us, and they won’t care about some trashy gossip the Mountain Telegraph spouts. Not especially if it comes from that gossip-mongering woman who gave birth to the devil herself.” Brad thought about his mom’s behavior. It made sense she’d get all worked up on behalf of Betsy and her empty threats. Brad’s books had been out a while now, and he hadn’t heard word one about Jewel and Julia. Until now.Shit.He wondered if Betsy was the one who’d gotten to Chris. It wasn’t that far out of the realm of possibility to imagine her getting in a huff that Brad’d made his name off her daughter’s screwups. It meant he had a thing or two to tell his mom, that was for sure.
“Well, I’ll tell you what, you listen to that lovely woman headed your direction right now, then come on over and we can see about smoothing things out with your mom. One woman at a time, son. One woman at a time.”
Brad closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. His dad always knew just what to say to throw Brad off one of his tantrums, dammit. He had to give Sophie the benefit of the doubt, no matter how bleak or circumstantial the evidence appeared. Then, either way things shook out, it was time for him and his mom to have a little heart-to-heart. He wasn’t sure he was prepared for either, but at this point, he didn’t seem to have a choice.
Leaving his uneaten lunch on the breakroom table, Brad headed to the front to meet up with Sophie. His heart raced against his chest. He bent, then straightened his knees on repeat, unable to get comfortable in any standing position. He felt like he was at the starting line to a marathon after a long night of drinking.
Not three minutes later, Sophie pulled up. Brad’s heart slowed to a near stop when her face lit up at the sight of him. She parked and exited the car, heading toward him with a childish grin plastered on her face. Though she’d stunned him silent the previous night with her little black dress, she didn’t look any less incredible in her jeans that looked painted on, paired with a sweater that was cut down just to the top of her exquisite cleavage. She was every heroine he’d ever imagined for his characters, and damn if he didn’t want her for himself.
Why does she have to look so good?
He didn’t want to let hope seep into his stomach where it would take over the parts of him he didn’t trust to be impartial. Namely the part of him that was at half-mast watching her hips sway toward him. He was so scared to admit that she could be real after all they’d been through this week. At some point, he had to wonder if enough was enough, that the universe had given him enough sucker-punches telling him this woman was off-limits.
All that disappeared when she got up to him, grabbed his head before he could think twice, and covered his mouth with hers in a soft but passionate kiss that lit every cell in his body afire. It made him forget his own name, let alone the promise that he would just listen to what she had to say before he passed judgment. Now, he’d have gone to the ends of the earth to bring her back a cocktail if she’d asked him to. Apparently, the universe was a fickle beast who didn’t know what she wanted. That, or he was shit at listening.
She broke off the kiss, taking his full bottom lip in her teeth for a last nibble. He reluctantly pulled back, breathless and slightly off-balance.
“Hi,” she said, gazing up at him through thick lashes. Her voice sounded like sex, fluid and smooth and laced with desire.
