Wrangled by the Watchful Cowboy Page 7

  “My last job required me to wear a suit every day, so I have quite a few.” He held the form out, a sudden bout of nerves making his hand shake. “I’ve already filled out my form. And I want you to know this is our first official date.”

  “It’s not a date,” Jessica mumbled, behind his back.

  Bucky scanned the form. “It’s been a long time since a boy came to take one of my daughters on a date. I don’t even know what’s proper anymore. Do I ask where you’re going or what time you’ll have her home?”

  Cord heard Jess grumbling behind him and waved his hand at her behind his back. “You can ask anything you like, Mr. Buchanan.”

  Nanna appeared at Bucky’s side, taking his arm. “You don’t ask them anything, Bucky. Cord is a fine young man, and Jess is a grown woman. She’s been supporting herself for the last four years. I’m sure Cord will take her someplace nice and have her home at a decent time, like any gentleman would.”

  Behind him, his hand was tugged, dragging him backwards toward the door. “I’ll have her home by midnight,” he promised, in a loud voice to cover Jessica’s mutterings.

  “I can’t believe him,” she snapped, the moment the door closed behind them. “So embarrassing.”

  Their fingers interlocked as they walked to the truck, and he noted how well their hands fit together. “I think it’s kind of nice,” he remarked. “I mean, other than the fact that I felt like a nervous teenager, it’s nice that they care so much. Bucky didn’t mean any harm.”

  “You’re right.” Her jaw protruded in a stubborn way he was beginning to expect. “But it’s hard to be under their thumb when I’m used to being on my own. Nothing gets past Nanna.”

  He opened her door and helped her into the truck. “Sorry you have to climb up in a dress. Living in New York, I don’t even own a car. When I came home, Dad let me use his truck. Her name’s Charlene… Charlene, the Chevy.”

  “I always think of cars as females and trucks as males,” Jess said, patting the dashboard. “Rough and rugged.”

  “This truck is definitely female. Very moody. Won’t even start when it’s cold.”

  “Are you kidding me? Guys are plenty moody,” she said, as she latched her seatbelt.

  “Charlene is kind of beat up on the outside,” he said in apology. “Our other truck is newer, but it’s a standard. My shoulder hurts when I shift gears.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m not a car snob. My truck has almost 200,000 miles on it.”

  “So does Charlene, but Dad kept her in great shape.”

  And now he’s gone.

  Without warning, Cord’s throat tightened. He quickly shut her door and turned his back to hide the moisture that sprang to his eyes. He’d held it together for the months during his dad’s illness, burying his emotions deep inside. Even after his father’s death, he’d successfully avoided any emotional outbreaks. Why was he falling apart now, of all times? After a few calming breaths, he moved around to the driver’s side and scrambled in, a cumbersome task without the use of his right arm.

  He gripped the steering wheel with his left hand and forced a smile on his face. “Ready to go eat?”

  “Would you rather go somewhere and talk?” she asked, in a soft voice.

  He must not have turned his face away in time. Her gentle touch on his arm was almost enough to make him lose control and blubber like a baby. His hands shook as he held on by a thread. He couldn’t bring himself to look at her, but he knew her expression was full of pity. Somehow, he had to distract her.

  Bending awkwardly, he turned the key with his left hand, and the engine revved to life. “Let’s talk on the way to dinner. We’ll talk about how beautiful you are tonight.”

  She took the bait. “Maybe we should talk about how I smeared nail polish, and I now I have a bright orange toe.”

  “Yep, that neon toe was the first thing I saw when you opened the door.”

  “It was?”

  A glance showed her horrified expression.

  “I’m teasing, Jess. I wouldn’t have noticed if you’d painted your entire foot. I was too busy looking at your legs.”

  She laughed, light and musical, and he felt like he’d won a prize.

  “I want to put in a request,” he said. “You’d make me very happy if you’d wear shorts every day, instead of blue jeans.”

  “I may have to report that to my grandfather,” she replied, with a chuckle. “What you just said could be construed as sexual harassment.”

  “That suggestion was made purely with your health in mind. Uncovering those shapely legs would make you less likely to have a heat stroke in the Texas sun. Nothing sexual in that.”

  “You were thinking of my health, huh? What if I suggested you walk around the ranch without a shirt, for the same reason?”

  “I’d say, be careful what you ask for.”

  His eyes were on the road, but he felt her skeptical glower.

  “You wouldn’t dare,” she said.

  “How about a bet? I’ll go shirtless if you wear shorts all day.”

  “It’s not a fair trade. You’ll just do paperwork and stay inside. My job is mostly outside, working with the horses.”

  “No, I’ll walk around outside. I’ll even show up at breakfast without a shirt, though I doubt your grandmother will let me in her kitchen if I’m indecent.”

  “The whole day? Inside and out?”

  He nodded, wondering how he would pull it off. “Seven a.m. to five p.m.”

  “You’ve got a deal,” she said, her huge grin showing off perfect white teeth.

  She stuck out her hand, and he shook it, wincing at the sharp pain in his shoulder. Without the sling, he’d momentarily forgotten the injury.

  “There should be some kind of penalty if you don’t make it the whole day,” she added.

  “How about if one of us doesn’t make it the whole day, we have to buy the ice cream for a week?”

  “No, that’s too easy.” She tapped a fingernail on her front tooth. “How about this? You have to tell me something you’ve never told anyone… anything I want to know.”

  With that threat looming, Cord would be willing to walk around in his underwear. There was no way he’d lose. “Okay, but the same applies to you. And your shorts have to be actual shorts—above your knees—not those short pants that only show your ankles.”

  “Agreed.” She chuckled, shaking her head.

  “What are you laughing at?”

  “I’m pretty sure this whole conversation violated that agreement we signed.”

  “No, it didn’t. It was all about preventing heat stroke, remember? Texas in the summer? 101 degrees in the shade?”

  “Right. I forgot,” she said, still grinning.

  After a moment, his stomach clenched. “But seriously, Jessica, if I ever said anything that made you feel… objectified or put down or disrespected…”

  “Don’t worry, Cord. I don’t think you’d ever do that,” she said, her expression somber. “But if you did, I’d let you know. And the same goes for me.”

  He reached his hand out and, after a moment’s hesitation, her fingers interlaced with his.

  So far, this date is going really well.

  They drove a few miles in silence and he let his thumb explore the soft skin on her hand with gentle strokes. Maybe tonight, he could make her realize how silly it was for them to put off their relationship. Pretending to only be friends was a ridiculous idea. A glance showed his ministrations were having the desired effect. Head back, eyes closed, rapid breaths.

  Yes, it’s working. I am a master!

  “Have you ever had a shot in your mouth?” she asked, out of the blue.

  “Huh?”

  “I was sitting here, thinking about when I had to have a cavity filled last year. One of my sealants came out. Have you ever had a cavity filled?”

  “A couple, but it’s been a while.” Confused, he withdrew his hand. “I think I was fourteen.”

  “Do you floss?”


  “Uhmm… sometimes. Not as often as I should.”

  “It’s really important to prevent gum disease.”

  Smooth, Dennison. You rubbed her hand and made her think about the dentist.

  8

  When Monday morning arrived, Jessica was ready to win the bet. Cord thought she would chicken out, but she was way too competitive to do that. She had to win. She absolutely had to. Especially after dinner Friday night.

  To call her plan to use dental appointments to take her mind off Cord’s magnetism ineffective would be an understatement. A huge one. Bigger than the Milky Way. Bigger than the pile of laundry falling out of her overstuffed hamper.

  By the time they’d finished their prime rib and dessert, and Cord had driven her home and walked her to the door, she’d recounted every single dental experience she could remember in graphic detail. Including the time, while under the lingering influence of drugs from her wisdom-tooth extractions, she’d told her oral surgeon he was “dreamy.” But no dental description—whether frightening, funny, or downright gory—could compete with Cord’s allure. If only he would stop caressing her fingers with those devious hands of his. One thing was certain, his professed plan to make her want to kiss him, and thus circumvent her friends-only rule, was working. So far, she’d hidden that fact from him, but how long could she hold out?

  She was terrified she was racing down the same path she’d gone with Parker. Especially since Cord was even more attractive than her ex. Though she had to admit, as opposed to Parker, Cord Dennison seemed both thoughtful and respectful, not to mention, romantic.

  But their relationship was doomed from the start. She’d already determined she wanted nothing to do with city life. She’d even arranged to do her student teaching at Sage Valley High, though she hadn’t broken the news to Nick, yet. Her other brothers would never interfere, but Nick acted like a controlling mother.

  Yet as much as she now wanted to come back home after college, she found herself considering whether she might throw away her own aspirations so she could be with Cord. Hadn’t she been the same way with Parker? That had red warning signs all over it—flashing, with horns and sirens.

  That’s why she was gung ho about this shorts-and-shirtless challenge. It was fun, required no physical contact, and rested squarely in the friend-zone. She and Laurel had pulled similar harmless pranks at UNT.

  Jessica clomped down the stairs, already self-conscious in her shorts and boots. Though she’d seen other girls wearing similar outfits—western style boots with shorts or dresses—Jess thought it looked ridiculous. Maybe she could pull it off with some cute fashionable boots instead of old, well-worn and twice-resoled cowboy boots, but she didn’t own any.

  Not that it mattered. As soon as Cord showed up at breakfast with his shirt on, she could declare victory. She figured at most, she’d have to get through the morning trail ride before switching back to jeans. But she was positive he didn’t have the guts—or maybe it would be the stupidity—to show up for breakfast at Nanna’s without a shirt. She’d made it clear breakfast was part of the bargain, and she wouldn’t let him off the hook.

  “Morning, Nanna. Yum! Do I smell bacon?”

  “Yes, I have bacon in the oven. Eggs are almost done, and I have homemade tortillas.”

  “Breakfast tacos! I’ve died and gone to heaven.”

  “Well, you can thank Cord.”

  “Why?”

  “He called yesterday and made a special request. Said he’s got something special going on today and wondered if he could get breakfast to go.”

  “Oh, no you don’t,” Jess muttered under her breath, her fists tightening. She couldn’t let him get around the terms of the agreement.

  “What’d you say?” Nanna asked.

  “I said… uhmm…. ‘too bad you won’t…’” Her mind worked fast. “Too bad you won’t insist he comes in for breakfast, no matter what he says. He told me sometimes he feels like he’s taking away your private family time. That’s probably why he asked for breakfast to go. He thinks you’re too polite to tell him he’s imposing.”

  “Of course he’s not imposing.” From Nanna’s aghast expression, one would’ve thought Jess had suggested putting the dog down.

  Just then, the door cracked open and Cord’s face jutted inside. “Hi, Sharon. I’m here for that breakfast taco.”

  Jess dashed to the door and flung it open, exposing a shirtless-Cord, with a pair of bright blue swim trunks hanging from his hips and a life vest slung over his left shoulder. Much to her disappointment, his arm sling blocked her view of his chest. Yet she could still discern his broad shoulders and muscular arms and legs.

  What’s he been doing in New York City? Lifting taxicabs with his bare hands?

  He grinned at her, a glint of triumph in his eyes, and she scowled.

  “That sling covers almost as much as a shirt,” she said, lowering her voice.

  His smile only broadened as he whispered back, “You said no shirt. You didn’t say no sling.”

  “But you have to have breakfast with Nanna and Bucky, not grab it to go.”

  “No, you only said I had to show up for breakfast without a shirt on, and I did.” He smirked, calling out, “Sharon, is that breakfast taco ready?”

  “Not quite,” came Nanna’s reply. “Come on in and have a seat. I’ll have it ready in a jiffy.”

  His smile faltered on one side as he yelled back, “I’d love to, Sharon, but I’d better not. You don’t want me coming in, dressed the way I am.”

  “I don’t care how you’re dressed, Cord Dennison. I’ll be offended if you don’t eat with us. Jessica told me what you said, and I want you to know, you’re absolutely not imposing.”

  Jessica pressed her hand over her mouth to keep her laughter inside.

  His eyes narrowed to slits, flashing blue lightning bolts at Jess. Jaw clenched, he squeezed between his teeth, “What did you say to her?”

  “No idea what she’s talking about.” Jess blinked her wide-open eyes, feigning innocence. “It’s only fair. If I’m going to be humiliated all day, you at least have to experience a little embarrassment at breakfast.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll have plenty of humiliation.” He flung his left hand in a wild gesture toward the watersports trailer, where staffers were already loading canoes and kayaks for the morning trips. “I’ll be standing around the river all day, practically useless, unless I’m willing to risk reinjuring my shoulder to carry boats to the river or use a paddle. And I’d look like an idiot wearing this life vest while I’m standing on the bank, so I’ll be answering questions all day about these…”

  He turned around, and she gasped at the sight of his back and sides, covered with blue and greenish bruises.

  “Oh Cord! That looks terrible!” Had he simply been bucked off the bull, or had he been kicked in the ribs a few hundred times? He didn’t look in the mood to answer questions.

  “And all you have to do is show off your legs a bit.” His gaze dropped down, and he let out a low whistle, closing his eyes as if the sight was too much for him. Her cheeks burned like she was sitting too close to a bonfire. “Dang, Jess. I’m a sucker for girls with muscular calves. I’m almost ready to concede defeat just to keep Holden and Mason from ogling your legs all day.”

  “Fine by me,” she said, extending her hand. “Declare me the winner, and I’ll run upstairs and change back into jeans.”

  In the sling, his right hand twitched, his brow furrowing. He was thinking about it. Jess might win the bet without setting foot from the house.

  “Cord,” Nanna called. “Are you coming to breakfast?”

  The smell of bacon wafted out the door, and Cord’s stomach gave an eager growl. A slow smile bloomed on his face.

  “I’m coming, Sharon.”

  Cord stepped past Jess into the kitchen, and her hopes of a quick victory plummeted. He flashed a grin over his shoulder and mouthed, “I win.”

  She couldn’t help grinning ba
ck as she came close and muttered, “The day’s not over.”

  Dropping his life jacket beside the door, Cord steeled himself for Sharon’s reaction. When she turned around her jaw dropped to the floor, and the panful of bacon in her hands almost followed suit.

  “Oh!” Her mouth opened and closed like a guppy. “I didn’t realize… I mean…”

  “Sorry, Sharon. I’m working down at the river today. I didn’t plan to come inside, so I don’t have a shirt.” He backed toward the door. “I’ll just wait outside for one of those breakfast tacos. I really appreciate it.”

  Sharon frowned. “Nonsense. You’ll sit right down at that table and eat your breakfast. I may not have had any sons, but it’s not like I’ve never seen a man’s chest before.”

  “But what about your sign?” He pointed to her refrigerator, which was littered with snappy messages, like In this kitchen, we lick the spoon, and A messy kitchen is a happy kitchen. One sign was prominent, front and center… No shirt, no shoes, no service.

  She waved him toward the table. “Forget those kitchen magnets. Only one sign matters.” She pointed to the wall, where a hand-painted wood sign read, Number one rule of Nanna’s kitchen: Keep Nanna happy at all times.

  With a sinking feeling, he edged sideways toward the table, hoping to hide the worst of his bruises from her sharp eyes. Next thing, she’d be asking for a copy of the doctor’s report. He heard Jessica’s stifled snicker and whispered, “Revenge is sweet,” to which she snorted laughter.

  “Why are you walking funny?” Sharon plopped the bacon on the table and fisted her hands on her hips. “Have you been riding bulls again?”

  “No ma’am. Still healing from the last round.” Truth was, he was afraid he was going to forget everything if he didn’t practice before the big rodeo.

  “Cord Dennison, what are you trying to hide?” Pot holder in hand, she marched around behind him.

  “Nothing.”

  He quickly plopped into a chair, but the slatted back gave her an eyeful. She tsked her disapproval.