Cowboy Strong Read online

  She’d avoided dating and relationships at all costs. Too much disappointment involved. Men were either intimidated by her success or competitive with her because of it. She told herself her reaction to Sawyer was merely a symptom of loneliness. And…hot cowboy. Which was a whole new species of man in her world of chefs, television producers, and corporate tycoons.

  “They all look the same to me. I’d say whichever one makes the most ice cream at one time.” His lips ticked up in the corners. It was obvious to Gina that he knew just how charming he was.

  There was no question he had a healthy ego. And why shouldn’t he have one? Good looks, impressive job, a killer smile, and a drool-worthy set of abs. On top of that, he was part owner of a nice chunk of real estate. He was a fabulous catch by anyone’s standards.

  The thing was Gina didn’t think Sawyer wanted to be caught; otherwise he wouldn’t still be single. In her experience, the emotionally available ones were always the first to get taken. All the rest had dated her at one time or another.

  She’d grown so tired of putting herself out there that she’d focused on work instead of finding her one and only. Because he didn’t exist, she reminded herself and turned her attention back to ice cream makers.

  She narrowed the offerings down to two, including the ChefAid, which delivered the most features. In the end, the ChefAid won out. Sawyer carried it to the cashier’s counter while she continued to browse. She’d never been much of a shopper—a passive-aggressive swipe at her mother, whose second home was Saks Fifth Avenue. But she could get lost in a kitchen or restaurant supply store for hours.

  About twenty minutes later, with a basket full of crockery and gadgets she didn’t need, she found Sawyer in the barware section, talking with a middle-aged blonde who smiled up at him with obvious familiarity. Though she was dressed like one of Gina’s late mom’s friends—lots of gold jewelry, white designer capri pants, and a pair of Jimmy Choo sandals—she wasn’t a tourist up from the city. She appeared to know everyone working in the store.

  Sawyer caught sight of her out of the corner of his eye and silently signaled that she should stay away. Gina crossed the floor and took the stairs down to the lower level to hide out. It wasn’t a hardship because there was a clearance rack to explore.

  She was immersed in the Moosewood Cookbook when Sawyer found her.

  “The coast is clear.” He tilted his head to see what she was reading. “You ready to giddyup? The store is mostly empty now.”

  “I’m ready.” She handed her basket to him and he rolled his eyes but didn’t balk at carrying it up the stairs.

  “Who’s your girlfriend?” When Sawyer appeared confused, she said, “The blonde wearing Fort Knox around her neck and on her wrists. You too looked quite cozy, chatting next to the Riedel stemware.”

  “Jealous?” He winked and flashed another one of his I’m-sexy-and-I-know-it smiles. “That was Tiffany, Jace’s former campaign manager.”

  “Campaign manager?” This didn’t seem like a place where one needed a campaign manager. But what Gina knew about small towns and politics she could fit in a quarter-teaspoon. “For what election?”

  “Sheriff. It was a pretty contentious race.”

  When it was their turn at the counter, the cashier graced Sawyer with a blinding smile that hurt Gina’s eyes, even with her sunglasses on. The woman mostly ignored Gina while she paid for her items. It appeared that as long as Sawyer was around, Gina didn’t need a disguise.

  “What do you mean by contentious?” Gina asked as they were leaving the store. The idea of small-town life intrigued her for some odd reason.

  “Jace had a fierce opponent.” Sawyer rolled his eyes and laughed. “A local hardware store owner with zero law enforcement experience ran against him and almost kicked his ass.”

  “Holy crap, I’m living in freaking Mayberry.” God, she missed LA: the smog, the crime, the corruption, the bullshit. At least she understood those things. Everything here was so…quaint.

  “Not Mayberry.” He tweaked the brim of her hat. “It’s just folksy. Nothing wrong with that.”

  She didn’t understand how someone as erudite as Sawyer loved living in the sticks. She did, however, like the hot cowboy shtick he had going on.

  Her purse rang. Sawyer stopped on the sidewalk until she rescued her phone from the bottom of her bag. She checked the caller ID and grimaced.

  “Who is it?” Sawyer glanced over her shoulder at her display screen.

  No sense keeping it a secret, since she’d already confided in him. “Danny Clay,” she said.

  Sawyer’s expression darkened. He pierced her with a long, hard look and took off toward the car at a swift pace.

  “Hold up,” she shouted, then remembered she was in public and in a quieter voice called, “Sawyer!”

  He didn’t stop and she had to jog to keep up.

  By the time she got to the car she’d worked up a sweat in the blazing heat. “What? Now you don’t believe me?”

  “You told me you barely know the guy and yet he’s calling you on your private cell phone number. What do you want me to believe? I’m not that fucking gullible, Gina. I was trying to help you but I don’t like getting used. Or played.”

  “Can’t you let me explain? He’s a victim in this too. His reputation is shot and his wife won’t talk to him anymore. All because someone did this to us.”

  “How do you know his wife isn’t talking to him? You told me you’ve never said more than a few words to the dude. Now, suddenly, you know his whole goddamn story.”

  Gina let out a long breath and unlocked the car. Sawyer put her shopping bag in the trunk and folded himself into the passenger seat. Granted, she hadn’t known him long, but she’d never seen him this angry, not even when he’d found her squatting in his apartment.

  She got in the driver’s seat and turned on the ignition just to get the air-conditioner going and rested her forehead against the steering wheel. “He’s been calling me. I don’t know how he got my private number, but it wouldn’t have been terribly difficult. We all run in the same circle. He’s just as confused about what’s going on as I am. Neither of us has a clue about who would want to ruin us or hurt Candace. Because—let’s face it—she’s probably been the most wrecked by this. According to Danny, she believes he’s been unfaithful and is absolutely crushed.”

  Sawyer didn’t respond. Gina got the impression he was deliberating on whether she was telling the truth. She couldn’t blame him for being skeptical. The whole story was like something out of The Twilight Zone.

  After a long stretch of silence, he turned in his seat and looked at her. “Have you told my mother that the two of you have been in contact?”

  She squirmed. “No, not exactly.”

  “What does not exactly mean?”

  Not exactly meant Gina hadn’t broached the subject at all with Wendy, who would have a complete shit fit if she knew Gina and Danny Clay were exchanging regular phone calls. “I was afraid she would have the same reaction as you. The first time he called, I didn’t pick up. But he left a long message, begging me to return his call because he was just as baffled as I was about the pictures, the texts, the entire crazy story that we’d been having a love affair for the ages.”

  “And you did, of course.” Sawyer banged the back of his head against the seat. “Let me drive.”

  “Why?” They were having an important conversation and he suddenly wanted to take the wheel of her car? The man was confounding.

  “Because I want you to start at the beginning and you have enough trouble finding your way around even when you’re not talking. I’ve never met anyone with a worse sense of direction.”

  She started to argue, but he was right. Mill County was a maze as far as she was concerned. And she had no idea where his mechanic was located. So why not let him drive? She got out of the driver’s seat a
nd switched sides with him. Sawyer pulled onto Main Street and headed in the direction of the highway.

  “Start with his first call,” he demanded. The man was bossy.

  “There really isn’t much more to tell. We’ve talked a few times since his initial message. The first time was when I came to Dry Creek Ranch. He wasn’t going to give up, so I figured what was the harm in taking his call. In any event, neither of us can figure out who’s behind this or why. He told me that at first he thought I had staged the entire scandal as a publicity stunt. But he quickly realized that the rumors were hurting me as much as they were hurting him. Together, we’ve been taking your advice and brainstorming who our possible enemies are.”

  Sawyer hopped on the on-ramp, one hand on the wheel, totally at home driving her car. “It’s a supremely bad idea for you two to be talking on the phone. If it ever leaked the press would have a freaking field day. And inevitably it will leak. Everything does. Take it from me, leaks are my bread and butter.”

  Of course, he was right. He was a reporter and knew how these things worked. But in this situation it seemed like her only hope was to team up with Danny to prove their innocence.

  “Given that we’re both affected, what’s the harm in us working together to find out who’s trying to screw us? What else do we have to lose? Candace has already filed for divorce. The future of both our shows is in jeopardy. And our brands…Ha.” She laughed. “We can both kiss future endorsements good-bye.”

  Sawyer turned to the side and pinned her with a look. “You’re kidding me, right? The entire world thinks the two of you are having an affair. Your phone calls…Come on, you’ve got to realize how incriminating it looks.”

  Not if you’re innocent, she wanted to scream. But he was right. The court of public opinion had already deemed her a liar and a cheat, regardless of the truth.

  “There’s got to be a way that we can communicate with each other. He might discover information that could help clear this mess up and vice versa. Shouldn’t we be in this together?”

  There was a long pause. Gina could tell Sawyer was mulling the conundrum over in his head.

  “Let me think about a safe way you two can talk without the tabloids catching wind of it. It’s your scandal, not mine. But until you have a truly private way to communicate, I’d suggest no more phone calls.”

  He took the exit to Dry Creek. She recognized Mother Lode Road, where the coffee shop was. But when he turned off on a side street and drove for a few miles, she was in unfamiliar territory.

  “Where are we?” The homes were close together with dirt driveways. In almost every yard there were a few goats, sheep, dogs, chickens, or a combination of all four.

  A double-wide trailer in the style of a ranch house sat at the end of the cul-de-sac. Two tow trucks were parked on what passed for a lawn and a metal garage with four bays took up most of the property. In one of the inlets, she spied Sawyer’s Range Rover.

  “This is Mama’s.” Sawyer parked under a shady tree in the dirt. “She owns the only tow service in town. Her son, Buck, is the local mechanic. You mind waiting while I check to see if my truck’s ready?”

  “Sure.” It wasn’t as if she had anything better to do.

  She pulled her hat down to cover her face. Today, she’d taken too many chances of being recognized. But what was she supposed to do—never leave her cabin? Even on the ranch there was Aubrey and Charlie’s construction crew. Wendy and Linda had told her to keep a low profile, not to lock herself away from all human contact.

  She cracked the window for air, and watched Sawyer walk to the garage to the strains of “Save a Horse (Ride a Cowboy)” blaring from one of the car bays.

  Ride a cowboy.

  The thought had crossed her mind a time or two. Or three or four.

  He returned a few minutes later and slid back into the driver’s seat. “Buck is waiting on parts, so no truck today.”

  “It’s a good thing I waited.” It was a long walk home, she assumed, even though she didn’t have the foggiest notion where they were.

  “Yup.” He reached inside his pocket and handed her his phone. “Put Danny’s number in there and I’ll call him to fill him in on the new protocol not to reach out to you anymore.”

  So they were back to that again. He slid her a glance as if it was a test to see if she’d go along with him contacting Danny.

  “You still think I’m lying, don’t you?”

  “I believe you.” But his voice held a slight waver. Sawyer Dalton was nobody’s fool.

  She respected him for that. It was the reason he was such a successful journalist. Despite her self-imposed banishment from the internet, she’d run a Google search on him. Sawyer had cred, writing for just about every respected publication out there. He hadn’t lied when he said he didn’t stoop to covering celebrity gossip. His stories were about wars, coups, corruption, and world leaders. And when he wasn’t traveling the globe, he was helping to run his family’s ranch.

  Nope, Sawyer Dalton was no dupe.

  “Good,” she said. “Because I’m telling the truth. What should we tell your mom?”

  “We? We shouldn’t tell her anything. You, however, should tell her the truth. She works for you, I don’t.”

  “Which raises a good question. Why? Why are you helping me?” Though she welcomed his advice—she could use all the support she could get—she wondered about his motivations. He’d made it more than clear that he thought of her as a self-indulgent pest, who had commandeered his kitchen and got away with it because she was Wendy Dalton’s high-paying client.

  There was a long silence; only the hum of the air-conditioner and the sound of tires swooshing against the pavement.

  He finally said, “The sooner your name is cleared, the sooner you can go home. Besides, I’m getting fat with you around.”

  “Don’t you worry, I’ll be out of here faster than you can count to ten.” She threw her head back. “Oh, how I long for civilization.” But honestly, Dry Creek Ranch was beginning to grow on her.

  Unfortunately, so was its owner.

  “Civilization?” He raised a brow. “I’d hardly call Hell-A civilized.”

  He pulled through the open ranch gate, which as long as Gina had lived here had never been closed. She didn’t know why they had a gate in the first place. Maybe it was to keep the animals in. But she’d never seen a cow on this side of the property and the dogs hung out at Jace’s house.

  “Right, living in the Clampetts’ old place down by the river is the height of civilization,” she fired back.

  “I’d say it’s a sight more civilized than running the paparazzi gauntlet in La-La Land.”

  She’d used up all her pithy responses for the day.

  “What are you cooking tonight?” His stomach rumbled as he continued up the blacktop road, past Jace and Charlie’s ranch house, to his loft apartment.

  “I thought you were watching your girlish figure.” Nothing about Sawyer Dalton’s physique was girlish. Nope, he was all man, right down to his big ’ole cowboy boots. “Anyway, you’re out of luck, bucko. Tonight, I’m hanging out with Aubrey and Charlie.”

  “What about that new ice cream maker? I thought we should test it out.”

  “I bet you did. Unfortunately for you, I’ll be testing it all by my lonesome at the cabin and bringing it for dessert for our girls’ night.”

  He parked her car in his driveway and let the engine idle. “So you’re not coming up?” He said it as if he was disappointed.

  “Not today,” she said. “Why, you afraid you’ll miss me?”

  He cut the motor and rubbed the bristle on his chin. “Maybe,” he said. “One thing I’ll say about you is that you’re entertaining.”

  She turned in her seat to face him. “And my food. Don’t forget you’ll miss my cooking when I go, even if it is making you fat.”
She took a slow turn down his T-shirt–covered torso, pausing on his abs. Nope, not an inch of fat on him.

  “I guess I could always buy your frozen entrées. Try to choke ’em down.” The light in his blue eyes sparkled. He was enjoying teasing her.

  “Then you’ll have your kitchen back.”

  “Yep. Can’t wait.” He reached across the console and took off her sunglasses. Next came her hat.

  She suddenly felt naked without them. Especially as he sat there, gazing at her face. She started to finger-comb her hair, but he pushed her hand away and held it in his much larger one. Then, he did something completely unexpected.

  He leaned in, covered her mouth with his, and kissed her.

  For a hard man, his lips were soft. And exquisitely pliant as they moved over hers, roaming until his tongue was licking into her mouth. She opened for him, letting him take the kiss deeper. He tasted good, like heat and desire, and she practically climbed over the center divider for more of him.

  But he made it clear he was the one still in the driver’s seat, tilting her head so that he moved over her and controlled the kiss exactly the way he wanted it. And, boy, did Sawyer Dalton know what he was doing. That one hand was still holding hers and the other he’d cradled behind her head. It was his mouth doing all the work. The hot pull of it was enough to make her panties melt.

  He took his time exploring and tangling his tongue with hers. She felt his bristle against her face. It tickled. And the musky scent of his aftershave was like a special kind of aphrodisiac. Her nipples tightened and her body tingled. And her hands wanted to fill themselves with him. But when she tried to touch him, he caught her hand and held it still, along with her other one.

  It was slow, erotic torture. Just his lips and his tongue, making her temperature rise.

  He hummed something low in his throat and lifted his head to look at her, heat simmering in his blue eyes. Once again, he dipped down and caught her mouth for another kiss. Just a short one this time, but sensual just the same.

  Then he straightened up, opened the door and got out, tossing her the keys, before he went inside.