Page 1 of Filthy, Dirty, Cowboy

Chapter One

Portia

I stare out at the open field and up at the white-capped mountains in the distance. I don’t belong here. I knew that before I even left Colorado Springs. Don’t get me wrong, from a distance, the mountains are gorgeous. Jagged, white-capped, and dramatic. What’s not to love? But like every good thing, it should be enjoyed in moderation.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. It’s my sister Bree. If she weren’t currently going through the worst divorce in the history of divorces, I’d ignore her call. I have enough shit I’m trying to figure out.

“Hey, what’s up?” I force an upbeat voice despite the bullshit I’m currently dealing with.

“I’m pissed! Tucker is going to take me to court over Alyssa and Bryn. What the fuck? The guy didn’t want shit to do with us for months now.” She releases a heavy sigh. “I just want this over with. Is that so much to ask?”

This is where I become a bumbling fool who has no idea what to say. My longest relationship lasted six months, and it was insanely dysfunctional. I have no relevant advice to give her. “It’s good that he wants to see the girls, right?” I know this is the wrong thing to say the second it leaves my lips.

“No! He’s going to confuse the hell out of them. One second, he wants to be around, the next he has a million other more important things to do. And if he’s doing it out of obligation, he’s going to act like a whiney little baby around them. I don’t want them raised like that!”

“You’re right.” I brush my hair back out of my face and shuffle through the tall grass toward a barn in the back of this weathered, disgusting property. “Sorry. I’m completely out of my element right now. John wanted me to run this proposal up into the mountains. He wants to buy some farmland up here.”

“Are you seriously complaining about being in the mountains? I’d give anything for some fresh air and wide-open spaces right now.”

This is what having a sister is like… at least for me. We love each other, but we talk like we’re about to wrestle to the death for dominance on who has a harder life. Can’t we just call it a draw?

“You should come up here. I have a cabin paid for the week, and it’s right next to a stream. I saw the owner has loads of fishing poles and a canoe in the back. The kids would love it.”

Her tone waivers. “I don’t know… I have work and I’m sure Tucker will give us a hard time if he finds out I took them out of town without his permission.”

“Oh, God. Is that a thing now? How about you don’t tell him? You can drive two hours without his blessing, right?”

“I don’t know the actual rule. I’d have to call someone. Besides, what about mosquitos and bears? Aren’t they kind of everywhere up there…”

She continues rambling on about sudden, nonsensical fears as I catch eyes with a massive man walking toward me. They don’t grow them like this in the city. This giant is tall, built, and his gaze is set straight on me like I have a bomb detonator in my hand and I’m about to hit the red button.

“Sorry, I gotta go. But if I don’t call you back in thirty minutes, send for help.” I disconnect the line as the man approaches. My heart is stuck somewhere in my throat, though I quite like it there. It’s the rush I’ve been needing. Something to distract me from the reality of life back in the city.

He tips his Stetson toward me. “Ma’am.”

“Ma’am?I’m not sure I’ve ever been calledma’am. I think that might be my mom or something.”

The man grins a sarcastic grin. “What would you prefer I call you?” His voice is so deep I feel a zygote currently implanting.

“Queen Portia maybe? We could go with Portia for short.” I laugh, but he doesn’t reciprocate the humor.

“Portia? Holy fuck. I didn’t recognize you.” The man lifts his hat off and dips into the light.

Damn it! It’s Hawk. We had a single date together a few months back to appease a friend. It didn’t go well. First, I’m not a country girl and that’s what this man needs. Second, I’m not into country boys, which this man is. Third, he’s like twice my age. We spent the whole night ignoring real conversation in favor of small talk over the best brand of ketchup and hot sauce. He prefers local brands. I say there’s nothing better than the manufactured stuff.

“Yeah. Wow! Wasn’t expecting to see you so soon.”

He laughs and places his hat on its rightful place. “I do work here.”

“Right. Sorry about that. I’ve had my head in a fog all day. My sister is going through a divorce and she’s calling every twenty minutes with these life-altering decisions. I have no idea what to tell her.” I blow a strand of hair out of my vision. “That, and I really don’t want to be back here.”

Hawk clears his throat. “Good to see you, too. Your boss figure out what he wants to do yet?”

“He wants to buy out Waylon and build a manufacturing plant here. He says the wide-open spaces will be good for—”

“You’ll never get that approved through the town. Henry, Maddox, and Julie wouldn’t go for that. Hell, I think even Waylon would get pissed. No one in town would want a factory, especially on farmland like this.”

“It’s a grain factory, so this land would be perfect. Plus, Waylonisinterested. That’s why I’m here. He wants to put more effort into the rodeo, and he believes a factory would bring jobs to town, which he could sell to people. Everyone likes growth.”

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