Page 24 of Claiming Her Cowboy Kiss

Maddy had done that yesterday, and then she’d had to make the evening trek back to her cabin in one hundred-plus heat. She didn’t want to do that tonight, though she didn’t have an evening art class.

She’d only been hired on part-time this summer, to do a few art classes each week. Blake had texted everyone and asked for more help in the ice cream shop, and Maddy glanced over to it as she got out of her car. She’d texted in to say she could do it if it didn’t conflict with her classes, and she had an appointment with Blake later that morning.

“Come on, Brews,” she said to her dog, and the border collie jumped into the passenger seat from the back and then streaked past her so she could close the driver’s door. She did that and turned toward the raised hill that took up part of the parking lot in front of the lodge. The road ran in front of it, and Maddy went up the stairs as a huge delivery truck rumbled by.

She couldn’t even imagine the needs of a commercial ranch operation like the Texas Longhorn Lodge. Simply the thought of the amount of food they needed to feed everyone everyday overwhelmed her.

Footsteps came up the far set of steps, and she expected to see Kyle. Instead, she found Jesse and Adam carrying a bag of equipment. The stands had been left out, so all they needed to play were the red and blue bags.

Each of them frowned at her. “You have to schedule the cornhole lanes to practice,” Jesse said.

“I’m meeting Kyle,” she said.

“Didn’t see him on the schedule either,” Adam growled.

Maddy wasn’t sure how to take these grumpy cowboys. “Are you going to use all eight lanes?”

“No,” Adam barked. “It’s the principle of it.”

“How do I sign up?” Maddy asked. She’d dealt with crabby parents in the past; these guys were nothing compared to an angry father who thought she’d wronged his child.

“There’s a form,” Jesse said.

It seemed like there was a form for everything here at the ranch. Maddy had only been employed here for one day, and she’d surely missed the cornhole practice sign-up form. Thankfully, Kyle appeared at the top of the steps a few seconds later, while Maddy was still trying to decide if she should ask Jesse or Adam to forward her the form.

“Morning,” he said good-naturedly to his brothers. “Practicing?”

“You didn’t sign up,” Jesse said.

Kyle gave him a blank look as he passed. He didn’t seem concerned as he focused on Maddy. “Well, hello, gorgeous. What are you doin’ here?”

She laughed and squealed as he lifted her right off her feet. She still managed to hear the exasperated growl that came from one of his brothers, and Kyle seemed to hear it too. He set her on her feet and turned back to Jesse and Adam. “We’ll practice all the way down here. Maddy wanted to show me her skills so we could decide if we were going to sign up or not.”

“You have to sign up,” Jesse said.

“Why?” Kyle asked.

“It’s the family cornhole tournament.” Jesse acted likeof courseevery member of the family would participate. As new as Maddy was at the ranch, she didn’t know. Therefore, she kept quiet.

“I just want to see if I’m going to need to schedule a lot of early-morning practices.” Kyle turned his back on them and gave Maddy a knowing look. “Do you want to be blue or red, my little mouse?”

Maddy wasn’t sure where the endearment had come from, but she kinda liked it. “Red, please,” she said. She’d won the college championship with red bags.

He opened the black sack that held their bags and started separating the red from the blue. “You wanna go first?”

“We flip a coin for that.” She gathered her four red bags and looked at him.

“I’m fresh out of change,” he said with a grin. “You go first. I don’t care.” He tossed the black bag to the side and started toward the far end of the space. He went to the far side, leaving Maddy to take fewer steps to get to her station.

She let the corn bag hang in her hand, feeling the weight of it. She closed her eyes and focused on the feel of it. The way it started to become part of her.

“Ready?” he called, and her eyes popped open.

It wasn’t uncommon for collegiate players to sink it in the hole every single time. Sometimes the aim was slightly off. Not every shot went in for any athlete, professional or not.

She swung her arm back and forth, feeling the movement and the weight of the bag. She hadn’t done this for a while, but she had confidence that it would be like riding a bike. She might not hit a homerun the first time up to bat, but the countless hours of practice would come back to her if she started using her skills again.

She launched the bag and watched it arc through the peaceful morning. It hit the wood ramp and slid up and up, almost dropping through the hole. Almost, but not quite.

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