Crazy for the Cowboy

Book 1: A Sexy Texans Novel

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

Genres: Romance; Contemporary Romance; Western Romance

Synopsis

When Vince Durant left Bickford, Texas, he was a rowdy cowboy just looking for a good time. He also left unfinished business. He hadn't captured the Ghost, a wild stallion that roams the hills, and he never convinced Georgina Bickford to go out with him. Georgie might be a lost cause, but the Ghost has been calling his name ever since . . .



When Vince returns to Bickford, he finds his old stomping ground a shell of what it used to be, and Georgie still wants nothing to do with him. To her, he'll always be the womanizing cowboy she knew seven years ago.



And when Vince comes up with a plan that might restore Bickford to its former glory, Georgie wonders if the rough-and-tough cowboy has truly changed. As they get closer, Georgie will have to decide whether to resist Vince's charm or to attempt to tame the wild stallion who's stolen her heart.

Release date: May 5, 2015

Publisher: Berkley

Print pages: 336

Sample

PRAISE FOR VICKI LEWIS THOMPSON AND HER NOVELS

ALSO BY VICKI LEWIS THOMPSON

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

“Somebody should take a paintbrush to Sadie’s left nipple.” Vince Durant studied the six-by-ten mural on the far wall of Sadie’s Saloon as he sipped his beer. “It’s chipped.”

A well-endowed nude reclined on a red velvet piece of Victorian furniture that he thought was called a fainting couch. Rumor had it that a local woman named Sadie had posed for the mural, but because the painting was more than a century old, the rumor was unconfirmed.

“Sadie’s not the only thing needing a little TLC around here.” Ike Plunkett was still behind the bar, which was reassuring.

Vince remembered Ike from four years ago, and although the bartender’s hair was a little thinner and his glasses a little thicker, he looked virtually the same. That couldn’t be said for the town of Bickford, though. Except for the general store and this historic hotel, the place was pretty much dead.

Come to think of it, he’d seen no evidence that anyone else was staying at the hotel besides him and the two friends who hadn’t arrived yet. Even more troubling, the saloon was deserted, and that wasn’t normal for a Friday afternoon. At the end of the day, cowboys in the Texas Panhandle enjoyed sipping a cold one. “I never realized how much the town depended on the Double J.”

“I don’t think any of us did until it was gone.”

“You’d think by now somebody would have reopened it.” Vince wouldn’t mind working there again. Turned out he was good at wrangling greenhorns.

“Can’t.” Ike used a bar rag to wipe down the whiskey bottles lined up beneath an ornate mirror behind the bar. “Somebody torched it, probably for the insurance, and the land’s tied up in a big legal hassle.”

“Sorry to hear that.” Vince polished off his beer and signaled for another. He was thirsty after the long drive from Fort Worth.

“Not half as sorry as we are.”

“No, probably not.” But he was sorry, and disappointed, too. He’d talked his buddies Mac Foster and Travis Langdon into having a reunion, figuring they could party in Bickford like they had during the three years they’d all worked for the Double J Guest Ranch. “I don’t suppose you have live music this weekend?”

“We haven’t had a band in here for a long time. Can’t afford to pay ’em.”

“That’s depressing.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Oh, well. At least you have beer.” Vince lifted his bottle in the direction of the mural. “And Sadie! After a few of these, I might decide to repaint her nipple myself.”

The street door opened with the squeak of an unoiled hinge and Vince turned to see if Mac or Travis had come straight into the saloon instead of stopping by the hotel desk to check in like he had.

His smile of welcome faltered when Georgina Bickford walked through the door. He took some comfort in noticing that she seemed as disoriented by his presence as he was by hers. That made no sense, really. It wasn’t like they had a history, although he’d tried his damnedest to create one.

His fabled charm hadn’t worked on her and she’d never gone out with him. Maybe that was why he’d thought of her so often since then. She was the one girl he’d never been able to impress.

She didn’t look particularly impressed to see him now, either. “Hello, Vince.”

“Hello, Georgie.” He remembered that cool voice of hers, but at least she hadn’t forgotten his name. After four years, that said something. He wasn’t convinced it said something positive, though. A name could stick in a person’s mind for both good reasons and bad.

“I’m surprised to see you here.” She approached slowly, as if he had yellow caution tape draped around his barstool. “Just passing through?”

“Not exactly.” He thumbed back his hat so he could see her better. She’d gotten prettier, but she’d always been great to look at with her big brown eyes and honey-colored hair. When he’d first started working at the Double J, he’d asked around and had learned that she’d left college to run the general store after her dad died. He’d tried to be friendly, but she’d never given him the time of day.

She frowned. “If you’re looking for work, there’s not much to be had, I’m afraid.”

“So I gather.” He hesitated. Oh, what the hell. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“No, thank you.”

Shot down again, damn it.

“Georgie’s first drink is always on the house.” Ike sent a glance of compassion Vince’s way as he placed a glass of red wine on the bar. “All of the council members get one free drink per day. Bickford Hotel policy. It’s the least we can do when they have such a thankless job.”

“You’re on the town council?” Then he wished he hadn’t sounded so surprised. “I mean, I’m sure you’re well-qualified and all. I just . . .”

She appeared to take pity on him. “It’s okay. I’m the youngest member, but I also run the second biggest revenue producer in town, so it’s logical for me to be on the council.” She smiled. “It wasn’t a tough race. No one ran against me.”

Hey, a smile. Progress.

“They wouldn’t have dared run against you,” Ike said. “What can I get you from the kitchen?”

“Does Henry have any barbecued pork back there?”

“I believe he does.”

“Then a barbecued pork sandwich would be great. Thanks, Ike.”

The bartender glanced at Vince. “Want to order some food? We still have Henry Blaylock cooking for us. Don’t know if you remember, but he’s terrific.”

“I do remember Henry’s food. Good stuff. But I’ll wait for Mac and Travis to get here before I order.”

“Fair enough.” Ike opened the hinged section of the bar and walked back toward the kitchen.

“Mac and Travis?” Georgie picked up her wineglass but remained standing beside the bar instead of hopping up on a stool. “The same Mac and Travis who used to work for the Double J?”

“You have a good memory.” She hadn’t dated those old boys, either. Vince, Mac, and Travis had been the cutups of the group, and Georgie didn’t approve of cutups. She’d made that clear soon after they’d met, and he doubted that she’d changed.

She took a sip of her wine. “Are you having some kind of Double J reunion?”

“In a way, but it’s just the three of us.”

Her brown eyes lit with curiosity. “And you’re meeting here, in Bickford?”

“That’s the plan.” He liked her haircut, which was a little shorter than he remembered. It used to hang past her shoulders, but now it was chin length. The new cut made her look more sophisticated. Sexier.

“Why meet here?”

He shrugged. “It’s where we used to hang out, but I didn’t realize the place had gone . . . uh, that it’s not the same.”

“If you were about to say it’s gone to hell in a hand- basket, you’d be on target. If you want to have a fun time, y’all might want to head somewhere else. Go on up to Amarillo, maybe.”

“It’ll be okay.” He didn’t remember her being quite so curvy the last time he’d seen her. She filled out the Bickford General Store’s hunter-green T-shirt, although he was careful not to be caught ogling. He’d noticed that her jeans fit mighty nice, too. Not that it made any difference whether she was a knockout or not. She hadn’t changed regarding him. She showed no interest whatsoever.

“I can’t imagine what you’ll find to do around here,” she said. “Sadie’s doesn’t heat up like it used to on the weekend. Anastasia and I might be the last two single women under thirty in Bickford.”

“What about Charmaine?” Seven years ago, when he was a new hire at the Double J, Georgie’s stepsisters had been too young to go out dancing at Sadie’s, but Charmaine, the older one, had snuck in one time and Georgie had marched her back home.

“She’s working in Dallas. She’d party with you if she could, but she isn’t here, and Anastasia’s not into that. Besides, even if she was, there’s no live music anymore.”

“Yeah, Ike said it wasn’t in the budget. No worries. I haven’t seen Mac and Travis since we left the Double J. Maybe it’s better this way. We can drink beer and catch up.”

“For the entire weekend?” She sounded skeptical.

“Well, no. We’ll do that at night, but during the day we’ll head out and round up the Ghost. Ike says he’s still—”

“You most certainly will not!” She set her wineglass down with a sharp click and faced him, sparks of anger in her eyes. “Don’t y’all dare go out there and harass that poor horse for your own amusement!”

He blinked in confusion. The dappled gray stallion and his small band of wild horses used to be fair game, a challenge for the cowboys who worked at the Double J. Vince and his buddies hadn’t succeeded in roping him, mostly because they’d never been able to devote an entire weekend to the project. Now they could.

But Georgie was obviously ready to rip him a new one on the subject of the wild stallion. “There is no reason on God’s green earth why you should go after him! He’s not hurting anything, especially now that so few horses live in the area. Back when the Double J was in operation, I admit he tried to raid the corral a couple of times, but those days are over. There are four horses boarded at Ed’s stable, and they’re all geldings. No mares. The Ghost leaves us alone and we leave him alone!”

“But—”

“Is that why you decided to rendezvous here? To go after that stallion?”

“Partly, yeah. We always talked about capturing him, but we never did. Now seems as good a time as any.”

Her eyes glittered in defiance. “You won’t find him.”

“Oh, I think we will. We have two whole days to look.”

Ike returned from the kitchen, and Georgie wheeled on him. “Did you tell Vince that the Ghost was still out there?”

Ike shrugged. “He asked. I wasn’t going to lie to the man.”

“Are you aware that Vince and his two cohorts are heading out on some macho quest to rope him?”

“I didn’t know that.” Ike looked at Vince. “You might want to reconsider. Georgie takes a special interest in those wild horses.”

Crap. First he’d discovered that the town was deader than a doornail, and now Georgie Bickford was raining all over his wild horse roundup. Maybe she was right and they should take this party elsewhere, but he’d craved the small-town experience and he wouldn’t get that in Amarillo or Lubbock.

Mac and Travis chose that moment to walk into the saloon. They’d shared a ride here because they both worked at a ranch outside Midland. They sauntered in with wide grins as if they owned the place. Vince left his barstool and went over to greet them. Much joking around and backslapping followed. Vince couldn’t believe how happy he was to see those old boys. Until they arrived, he’d been outnumbered.

Mac and Travis tipped their hats and said hello to Georgie, who replied without smiling.

“So where is everybody?” Mac glanced around. “Hey, Georgie. What’s happened to this place?”

“We’re experiencing an economic downturn.” Georgie’s jaw tightened. “I suggest you three mosey on to a place that’s more suited to your needs.”

“Nah, we don’t need to do that,” Travis said. “I assume Sadie’s still serves beer.”

“We do,” Ike said.

“Then we’re in business.” Travis walked over to the bar and shook hands with Ike. “Good to see you. I’ll have a longneck, like always.”

“And I’ll take my usual draft.” Mac sat on a stool next to him.

“Coming up.” Ike looked nervous, but he busied himself getting the beer.

Georgie cleared her throat. “I understand y’all are planning to round up the Ghost this weekend.”

Mac nodded. “Yes, ma’am, we sure are. Isn’t that right, Vince?”

For a split second Vince considered telling Mac there’d been a change of plans. Then his rebellious streak surfaced. By God, he’d organized this adventure and he’d see it through. There was no law against chasing after that horse. He met Georgie’s flinty gaze. “That’s right, Mac.”

Georgie’s mouth thinned. “Over my dead body.”

Vince admired her spirit. He always had. But he couldn’t let her get the upper hand.

“Don’t go sacrificing yourself like that, darlin’.”

She balled her hands into fists. “Do not call me—”

“I promise we won’t hurt those horses one tiny bit.” He turned to his partners in crime. “Isn’t that right, boys?”

“Boys.” She poured a boatload of scorn into the word. “What a perfect description. Men would not be involved in causing distress to animals to stroke their outsized egos.”

Travis stayed hunched over his beer, but Mac swiveled to face them. “Y’know, Vince, we don’t have to round up the Ghost this weekend. Maybe we should just—”

“We’re gonna round him up.” Vince kept his tone mild and conversational, but his gaze locked on Georgie’s. “There’s no law against it.”

Georgie held her ground and matched him stare for stare.

“Georgie?” Ike’s tone was deferential, as if he didn’t want her unleashing her wrath on him.

She gentled her voice. “What, Ike?”

“Your dinner’s ready.”

“Thank you. I’d like to sit in the far corner, please.”

“I’ll set you up over there, then.”

Vince adjusted the fit of his black Stetson. “Seems like your meal’s being served. You wouldn’t want to let that barbecue get cold.”

“I don’t intend to do that. But this is not over.” Turning on her heel, she marched straight to the table where Ike was laying out her silverware on either side of her steaming plate.

*   *   *

“I don’t think you have to worry about those old boys,” Ike said to Georgie in an undertone.

She settled herself in a chair facing the three cowboys at the bar. “Why not?” Oh, how Vince infuriated her! Her girlfriend Janet, who’d since married and moved away, used to rave about his electric blue eyes and sinfully sexy mouth. Right now Georgie would love to wipe that arrogant grin off his face with a solid right hook to his manly jaw.

Ike kept his voice low. “They all like to drink, and they haven’t seen each other for a long time. They’ll be swapping stories ’til all hours of the night. I predict they’ll be too hungover to go traipsing around the countryside tomorrow.”

“Maybe. But they’ll be here the next day, too.”

Ike shrugged. “By then they’ll have talked themselves out of it. I think they’d rather party than chase horses.”

“Maybe.” She wasn’t convinced.

“You’ll see.” He glanced at her half-full glass. “Want more wine?”

“Yes, thanks. I think I’ll hang around awhile.”

“Suit yourself. But I wouldn’t worry if I were you.” Ike returned to his post behind the bar.

Soon after that Mac ordered up another round and Travis promised to get the next one. So maybe Ike had it right, after all. The last time these three had been in Sadie’s, they’d worked off the effects of their alcohol intake by dancing.

Between the single women who’d driven in from the Double J and the eligible females in Bickford, the cowboys from the ranch had been in demand on the dance floor, especially this particular bunch. Georgie couldn’t lie—she’d loved dancing with all three of them, especially Vince, who had a natural sense of rhythm. But she’d never encouraged him to think she was interested in being anything besides his dance partner.

Janet had told her she was nuts not to go out with him when he’d asked. But at some point they’d had a brief conversation about goals, and he’d admitted to having only one—to enjoy life as it came. That philosophy was fine for a Saturday night of dancing, but she’d had no interest in dating someone who was so unfocused. She’d been picky then and she was picky now.

Her pickiness was moot these days, though. The town’s population of datable men, focused or not, had migrated to areas where jobs were available. Georgie didn’t particularly want to be celibate, but circumstances had given her little choice.

She didn’t approve of Vince’s weekend plan and she would thwart it to the best of her ability. Yet, hypocritical though it might be, she took some guilty pleasure in seeing three virile cowboys at the bar for a change. Because they had their backs turned, she could look without getting caught, and that trio of tight buns perched on neighboring barstools gladdened her starved hormones.

The old guys who played poker here almost every night were adorable and dear. She’d known them all her life. But she couldn’t deny that Vince and his two friends brought with them a blast of testosterone that had been absent from Sadie’s for several years. She’d have to be sexually numb not to feel it.

Vince had always been the acknowledged leader of the group. He had charisma to burn. Mac, his brown hair cut short and his dark eyes perpetually full of the devil, had been Vince’s second-in-command. Travis, younger than both of them, used to play the role of kid brother. He seemed to have grown up, though. His blond hair had darkened and his green eyes had lost their innocence.

Mac delivered the punch line of a story she couldn’t hear and Vince doubled over in laughter. That was another thing she’d missed—the laughter of men her age. Damn these three guys for their misbegotten plan to chase after the Ghost. If they’d come to hang out and talk, she might have enjoyed having them around.

Ike brought her a second glass of wine. He tipped his head toward Vince and company. “Told you. They’ll keep this up until I close the bar.”

“When is that these days?”

“Normally? The poker game ends about eleven and the place is deserted by eleven thirty, so I shut ’er down.”

“Could you do me a huge favor and stay as long as they want?”

“I will, but I won’t be doing it just for you. We haven’t seen cowboys in here spending money on drinks in a long time. Steve and Myra would want me to take advantage of that.”

“I suppose they would.” She certainly didn’t begrudge the Jensons whatever revenue this reunion brought in. Steve and Myra were great, and they’d hung on here at the Bickford Hotel by carefully managing every dime.

“Three rooms rented is more than we’ve had since that group of rock hounds came through two months ago. Steve told me to make sure these guys had a good time this weekend. They might pass the word on to others that this was a nice place for a getaway.”

Georgie straightened. “I hope that doesn’t include encouraging them in this crazy scheme to round up the wild horses.”

“I can’t say. Steve knows they planned to do some riding, but I don’t think they told him they were after the Ghost. I doubt they told anybody until you came in tonight asking what their plans were.”

“Maybe it’ll never become an issue if they stay drunk for two days. That would be good for everyone, right?”

“I suppose so. Well, not Ed. He could get some income if they rent horses from his stable.”

Georgie considered the situation. “And I can’t ask him not to when he could use the money like everyone else.” She sighed. “I guess if they end up following through on their plan, I’ll have to figure out some other way to make sure they don’t capture the Ghost.”

Ike patted her shoulder. “Like I said, they likely won’t feel like going, but even if they do, they won’t be the sharpest tools in the shed after all that alcohol consumption. The Ghost is cagey. He’ll be fine.”

“I hope so. Anyway, you’d better get over there. I don’t want those cowboys going thirsty.”

“They won’t. Not on my watch.” Ike winked at her before heading back to set up the next round.

Georgie watched as Vince drained his beer bottle, his tanned throat moving in a deep swallow. She took note of his strong hands and the muscled forearms he’d bared when he’d folded back the cuffs of his Western shirt. She remembered the gleam of defiance in his blue eyes when she’d told him not to go after the Ghost. Despite how much he drank tonight, she’d do well not to underestimate Vince Durant.

Vince tried to block out Georgie’s presence because she was damned distracting. He could feel her judgmental gaze boring into his back, and as a result he was drinking more than he should and pretending that Mac’s and Travis’s stories were more hysterical than they actually were. Fortunately the beer helped calm his nerves and made the stories funnier. Great invention.

He raised his bottle. “Gentlemen, I propose a toast. To the inventor of this tasty beverage. I’m betting there was a cowboy involved.”

“You’d lose that bet.” Mac picked up the glass in front of him and studied its contents. “Beer was the preferred drink of the pharaohs, my friend.”

Travis laughed. “Yeah, right. You’re making that shit up like you always do.”

Ike leaned on the bar. “Actually, he’s right. Beer’s ten thousand years old, at least.”

“It is?” Vince narrowed his eyes at Mac. “How’d you know that?”

“I read.” Mac looked extremely proud of himself. “You should try it sometime, Vince.”

“Hey, I read! Just never ran across that factoid.”

“Me, either,” Travis said. “Pharaohs drank beer. Who knew? Speaking of which, did I ever show you guys my Egyptian dance routine?”

“Unfortunately.” Mac rolled his eyes. “Several times.”

“Well, it’s been a few years since you’ve seen it. I think I should refresh your memory.”

“Don’t feel obligated on our account,” Vince said.

“You’re both jealous because you can’t bend your arms right.” Travis climbed off his stool and angled one arm in front and one in back as he strutted along and bobbed his head while humming “Walk Like an Egyptian.”

Ike laughed so hard he had to take off his glasses and wipe his eyes. “That’s good, Travis. Real good. Especially wearing a cowboy hat.”

“Don’t encourage him,” Mac said, “or he’ll be doing that all night.”

“Hey.” Travis reclaimed his stool. “You’re the one who brought up the pharaoh subject. I’m just elaborating on the theme. I didn’t realize beer is such a noble drink.”

“It is that,” Mac said. “The Egyptians considered it sacred.”

Travis grinned. “In that case, maybe I should do another dance. Want to see me dance again?”

“No, we want to see you drink.” Vince finished off his bottle. “Another, if you please, Ike.”

“I sure as hell consider beer sacred.” Travis shoved his empty bottle across the bar. “Hit me again, Ike.”

“You bet.” Ike seemed quite cheerful about serving up the beer.

Vince thought about the sorry state of Bickford. So what if they all drank a little more than they should tonight? It was a celebration and the town could use the money.

“Don’t know if you came across the Mayflower in your beer-related research, Mac.” Ike set a bottle in front of Vince and Travis.

“His research?” Travis chortled with glee. “Vince, did you know we had a scholar among us?”

“A beer scholar at that.” Vince nodded. “Probably has a Ph.B.”

Travis smirked. “Yeah, B for bullshit.”

“Never mind the village idiots.” Mac looked at Ike. “What about the Mayflower?”

“The Pilgrims landed on Plymouth Rock mostly because they were running out of beer.” Ike had a twinkle in his eye.

Travis stared at him. “That can’t be right. I’ll bet ten bucks you’re making that up.” He slapped two fives on the bar.

“You’re on.” Ike fished out his wallet and put a ten on top of Travis’s two fives.

“I’m betting Ike’s right.” Mac added another two fives. “Vince, which way you leaning?”

“Beer on the Mayflower?” He added a ten to the pile. “I’m with Travis on this one. Can’t picture those folks in the gray outfits knocking back the booze. How do we settle it?”

“We have to Google it.” Ike glanced around the group. “Who has Internet on his phone? I left mine at home.”

“Old phone, here.” Travis held his up. “I’m a poor cowhand.”

Mac shook his head. “I have basic service.”

“Me, too.” Vince shrugged. “Guess we’re SOL.” He started to retrieve his bet.

“Not so fast,” Ike said. “Georgie has Internet on her phone.”

As all three cowboys swiveled their stools around to face Georgie’s table, Vince wondered if she’d refuse to look up the info for them. Probably not, though. The Georgie he remembered had liked being a source of knowledge. According to what he’d heard, she would have preferred to stay in school, but she’d had to drop out to save her late father’s cherished general store from going belly-up. Apparently her stepmother was no help.

Ike came out from behind the bar and approached Georgie’s table. “We need to settle a bet. Would you look something up on your phone, please?”

“For you, Ike, I’d be happy to.” She smiled and pulled her phone out of the pocket of her jeans. “You want to know if the Pilgrims had beer on the Mayflower, right?” She tapped the information into her phone.

Ike nodded. “Right.”

So she’d been following their conversation. Vince wondered if she’d been listening in hopes she could figure out a way to upset their plans. He wasn’t about to allow that.

Georgie consulted her phone. “So who’s betting on the Pilgrims having beer on board?”

“Me and Mac,” Ike said. “I know I read it somewhere.”

“According to this, they did.” Georgie held up her phone. “They decided to land because they were out of supplies, chiefly beer. Apparently beer didn’t go bad on a long voyage, while water did.”

Mac hopped off his stool and snatched a startled Georgie out of her chair. “Thank you, sweet lady!” He swung her around in a brief victory dance. “You brought the light of reason to dispel the darkness of ignorance.”

“Oh, hell.” Travis glanced at Vince. “It’s getting deep in here.”

“No kidding.” Watching Mac dance with Geor