Good Time Cowboy. Maisey Yates

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Good Time Cowboy - Maisey Yates

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was thinking we would do some rodeo demonstrations,” he said. “Over there in the main arena.” He gestured broadly across the way at a grand, covered area, with two sets of bleachers on either side. The bleachers were new.

      It looked like Wyatt figured that if he wasn’t traveling with the rodeo he might as well bring it back here.

      “Really?” she asked.

      “Yes. I was wondering if Dane was going to be around?”

      “I doubt it. Anyway, it’s not like you’re outfitted to do a bull ride here.” There were bleachers, but they were missing the heavy gates and fencing needed to keep people safe if they were going to bring those animals out.

      “Not bulls,” he confirmed. “I figured we would do some roping. Not going to go crazy. You’re right. We don’t have the facility for it. But it would be damned cool if we did.”

      “I’m not going to have my brother get himself injured doing a stunt to benefit your ranch, Dodge.”

      “Your brother rides often enough. He can get injured anytime.”

      “Right.” She pursed her lips. “But competing. Not messing around here.” Dane’s ability to earn a living was everything to him. His way of escaping their upbringing. He didn’t need to put it at risk messing around here. “Anyway. I’m pretty sure that Dane is solidly booked in competition for the next few months.”

      “That’s a shame. I like him.”

      Heavily implied in that sentence was the fact that he did not like her. But, that wasn’t her problem. It also wasn’t fair. Dane was different. His life was different. He got rewarded for being a good old boy. For being a reckless redneck.

      She got no such rewards from life. She had to prove that she was capable. She was strong and smart. That she belonged in the world she’d married into, and divorced out of.

      Dane got to be fun and dangerous and get rewarded for it. But then, that was her experience of all these rodeo idiots. Their life was a big party. They didn’t do responsible things like keep to their commitments or honor their vows. No. And her husband had jumped right into that.

      But, that was beside the point.

      “Sorry. He didn’t quit.”

      “I retired,” he pointed out. “I didn’t quit. Midthirties is a rough time to still be flinging your body around like that. Other guys do it, but...not me. I’m done.” A smile tipped the corner of his mouth upward, and she noticed some lines crease his skin right by his eyes.

      He had aged since they’d first met all those years ago but that didn’t make him less attractive. Instead, those weathered signs of aging, of years lived, only made him more attractive in a strange way. She had to wonder if it was some kind of weird female survival instinct. That this man who had taken all these risks was here, had made it well into his thirties in spite of those risks, was sending signals to her body that he was a good provider, or something.

      But her body was terrible at correctly identifying men’s true natures. Even if it wasn’t, she didn’t want to know Wyatt or his...nature. So, she wasn’t even going to ponder it.

      “Well. Whatever. So you’re thinking roping events?” She pushed the conversation back on track.

      “Yes. I got all the approvals from insurance. As long as we don’t have any guests participating, or anything like that, we are cleared for it.”

      “Glad to hear it.”

      “I was also thinking Jamie could lead a ride during the barbecue.”

      She nodded. “Sounds good to me.”

      “Will it be all right with you if we take the group over to the vineyard?”

      “Should be fine.”

      Their eyes caught for a moment, and for some reason it felt significant. More so than the moment before. He was not the kind of man she normally liked.

      Granted, she’d been with one man. And in the end she hadn’t liked him very much at all. But still.

      He nodded, then smiled. Slow and lazy. It licked through her like fire and she did her very best to ignore it. “Good.”

      She cleared her throat. “Good.”

      “So, just the brochures? Were there any emails that you needed me to read?”

      She curled her hands into fists, irritation coursing through her, saving her from the heat. “Can’t you just...check your email?”

      “Can’t you just...tell me what you need?” He smiled. Enigmatic. Infuriating.

      “There’s nothing, but if I need anything else I’ll be sure to send you an email. And maybe I’ll add a follow-up phone call.”

      “Sounds good. Could you arrange for 6:00 a.m.? A wake-up call? That would be pretty fancy. Haven’t had that since I was on the circuit.”

      “You stayed at motels that gave you wake-up calls when you were riding on the circuit?”

      “No. The women that spent the night usually woke me up early when they were sneaking out, though.”

      He was such a jackass.

      “Right. Well. I will not be giving you a wake-up call. Of any variety.” Her lips twitched, and heat flooded her cheeks.

      “Noted.”

      She turned away, her heart hammering hard. She had the inescapable feeling that she had made a deal with the devil in forging an alliance with Wyatt Dodge. But the devil was infinitely preferable to her ex-husband, and the devil currently had what she needed.

      And so, a deal with the devil it was.

      * * *

      WYATT WATCHED LINDY’S figure as she retreated, the wiggle in her hips transmitting her irritation while also sending some signals to his body that he could do without, thanks.

      He let out the breath that he felt like he had been holding for the past fifteen minutes, feeling the tension ease out of his body, down along his spine. That woman got under his skin, no denying it.

      Under normal circumstances he wouldn’t deny it. He would have just had her by now. But there were complications to that. Big ones. Like the fact that she was the ex-wife of a man he had once considered a good friend.

      Like the fact that she hated him.

      Oh, and the fact that he had wanted her from the moment he’d met her, when she had still been hitched to the aforementioned friend.

      The fact that he hadn’t made a move on her was a relief only in that it indicated he had learned to think with something other than his cock since he was sixteen years old.

      Lindy Parker was a particular kind of thorn in his flesh.

      He

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