My Rodeo Man: The Texas Kincaids #1

Genres: Contemporary Romance; Western Romance

Synopsis

He’s not the man she wanted – he’s everything she’s trying to avoid – but he’s the man she fell for… hard.

Zach Kincaid was definitely not what Ashley Drayton was looking for – one more risk-taking, bad boy to add to the long list of men who had broken her heart – the last one leaving her nearly penniless and homeless. Aiming for a fresh start, Ashely moved half way across the country to Texas. From here on out, players need not apply for the key to her heart. So how in the world had this cocky, confident cowboy charmed his way into her affections?

Ashley Drayton seemed like the kind of woman who typically made rodeo champion Zach Kincaid turn tail and head for the hills. A spoiled, prima donna. And that list of hers? Her perfect man sounded like a real yawn. Zach isn’t in the market for a wife but when he is, it won’t be some opinionated Southern Belle. She’ll be a woman who can stand beside him in the hard-knock world of ranching and rodeoing. So why can’t he get her out of his mind?

A witty romance about discovering that Mr. Wrong… just might be Mr. Right.

Settle in with this first book in the Texas Kincaids series. If you like stories filled with heart, heat, and emotional impact, you will fall in love with these books!

Buy My Rodeo Man today then step into the rodeo arena where we learn that what the heart wants is the place to start!

Release date: October 17, 2015

Publisher: Self Published

Print pages: 232

Content advisory: Steamy

Sample

Chapter One

“Don’t do it, Ash,” warned Lauren Royall, latching onto her friend’s wrist. “That lower than pond scum, piece of cow shit, isn’t worth it. Think about it. For one small moment of satisfaction, the jerk could take you to court and sue you for damages. Do you really want to pay for a new paint job on this hunk of junk?”

Ashley Drayton, petite, with wild, wavy, raven hair and the kind of curves women visit plastic surgeons to get scowled at her BFF. Reluctantly, she lowered the key she held like a dagger, poised to plunge into the heart of an obviously meticulously refurbished 1955 Chevy truck.

“Can you believe the nerve of that man? Told me something came up so he’d have to cancel our date tonight. Something came up all right – a ditzy blonde.” Ashley vibrated with rage.

“That’s why I dragged you out of there so fast before you dented his hood ornament, so to speak.”

A gust of January wind moaning through the Texas Hill Country oak trees had the women pulling their tailored wool coats a little tighter. How odd, thought Ashley, to be standing in the parking lot of one of the oldest dance halls in the area plotting to extract revenge on yet another scourge against womankind rather than having a good time inside.

Anger hit Ashley hot and stormy. “Wouldn’t it feel great to strike a blow for all the women who’ve been made to feel like they are worthless and unlovable?” She pumped her fist in the air. “It would do wonders for me. Besides,” she said with a saucy shrug and a back flick of her booted foot, “he’d have to prove it was me. Lots of people pass through this parking lot.” She tossed her head letting the breeze catch her long, dark tresses.

“While professionally I don’t recommend revenge as a strategy, are you willing to accept the consequences?”

“Oh, keep your marriage and family counselor psycho-babble to yourself, Lauren,” grumbled Ashley, but she tossed the keys in the air, catching them in her palm before tucking them back into her sequined clutch. While the temptation to hit the creep in one of the places it might hurt, she couldn’t do it. Her soft heart wouldn’t let her. She couldn’t deliberately hurt another person the way she had been hurt most of her life.

“What is it about me that pulls all the jerks within a sixty-mile radius into my orbit? Is it a pheromone thing? Do I send out a signal that attracts only cheaters and deadbeats?”

“I thought you didn’t want to hear any of my psycho-babble,” Lauren said with an unladylike snort. “But since you asked, the sooner you realize there is something wrong with them and not you… and stop letting your mother influence your choices, the sooner you’ll find that love of your life you’re searching for.”

Lauren turned Ashley to face her. “Repeat after me, ‘I am an amazing woman, a terrific friend and lots of people love me.’” Both women shivered as another blast of cold air swept through the sea of heavy-duty pickup trucks surrounding them.

Ashley gazed into the clear, star-studded sky. “I know I’ve spent too many years choosing men I thought would make my mother respect me, but the men she approves of can’t all be ‘Mr. Too Wrong For Words,’ can they? Some of it has to be me.” She leaned against the truck she had just threatened to key and glanced up at the willowy Nordic beauty towering over her.

“You’d think I’d learned my lesson after the Bill debacle,” she made air quotes when she said his name, “but no sooner do I vow to turn over a new leaf, move half way across the country, I fall for Sam, another Mr. Jerk Face.” She motioned with her thumb toward the building, “another lying, cheating, sleezeball.”

Lauren chuckled as she leaned against the car and gave Ashley a friendly hip bump, which given their height difference, hit Ashley just above her waist. “You do have a fairly unique track record where men are concerned, but I know you’re going to be okay. You just need to trust yourself.”

“Thanks, pal,” Ashley returned the friendly hip bump. “I still can’t believe it. Bill – the man I agreed to marry – broke my heart, cleaned me out and left me holding the bag. He was supposed to be the last straw. Well, I think it’s time to activate my plan.”

Lauren crossed her arms and sighed. “Truth time, you didn’t have deep feelings for Sam. At most, your pride was hurt. But looking on the bright side, you are becoming more cautious about who you trust.” Lauren hooked her arm through Ashley’s, “Ash, let’s be honest…”

“I hate it when you say that. It always comes right before you hand that bitter pill to me.” She smiled sadly and leaned into her friend. “Go for it. I can take it.”

“Put the quintessential bad boy in front of you and you see Prince Charming, a knight in black armor.”

“And that’s exactly why I need a way to distinguish between Prince Charming… a kind, caring, responsible man, who loves me unconditionally… and the Bad Boy… a sexy, cocky, narcissistic player who hurts me. I should have seen the signs, seen what they really were, seen they were as responsible as two-year olds, but I didn’t. Obviously, I need some help.”

“Sweetie, while I agree you haven’t always made the best relationship choices, I don’t think this system of winnowing out the wheat from the chaff is going to help you choose wisely,” Lauren scuffed the dirt with her foot. “You have to work through the issues we’ve been talking about, before things will change.”

Both women looked up when they heard the crunch of gravel under booted feet as two men walked toward them.

“Lauren?” asked Mr. Tall and Incredibly Handsome. He stepped a little closer and tipped his hat back for a better look. “It is you. Are you alright?” He stepped forward, clasping her arms in his hands, then almost immediately scooted back like he’d been burned and crossed his arms. “What in the world are you doing standing around in a parking lot in the middle of the night? You could be mugged, or worse. It’s just not safe. What are you thinking?”

Ashley arched a brow and looked from her friend to Mr. Tall and Incredibly Handsome. This must be Lauren’s on-again, off-again. The Crème Brule guy, hard on the exterior and gooey underneath. Interesting. Ashley shifted her gaze to the mouth-watering hunk of masculinity standing next to him. Shoulders like Hercules tapered down to a narrow waist and he was tall enough she’d probably have to stand on a box to kiss those tempting lips. On the ability to make a woman want to get her hair mussed meter, he had definite potential. He looked like just the ticket to make her forget her latest ‘bad choice’ and ease the ache in her heart or pride or whatever it was gnawing at her.

“What we were thinking,” Lauren answered, “is that my friend and I needed a quiet place to talk for a few minutes and a little bit of fresh air… and hello to you too Nate.” Lauren smiled sweetly at Mr. Tall and Incredibly Handsome. Turning slightly, she addressed the other man, “Hi Zach, nice to see you again.”

“Always a pleasure,” Zach drawled as he gave Lauren a quick hug before extending his hand to Ashley. “I’m not going to wait around for one of these two,” he nodded toward Lauren and Nate, “to remember their manners and introduce me to the prettiest gal this side of the Rio Grande.”

He plucked off his hat and held it against one of the broadest chests Ashley had seen in a while. “I’m Zach Kincaid, Nate’s brother, and if you ladies are not otherwise spoken for and are planning to head back in for more dancing, I would be more than happy to escort you.” His voice had the smooth rasp of fine malt whiskey.

He plunked his hat back on his head of close-cropped hair, crooked both arms and offered one to each lady.

“I’m Ashley,” she said stepping up to him all flirt and sass as she put her arm through his. “Count me in, cowboy.” She felt the tingle all the way down to her red-painted toenails as her fingers made contact with his arm. The man was built, all male and muscle beneath his long-sleeved chambray shirt. When a tasty treat came wrapped in a cowboy hat, boots and jeans so tight they brought images of dark corners and stolen kisses to mind, she was a goner.

“Me too,” added Lauren with a little shrug and smile over her shoulder at Nate as she slipped her arm through Zach’s.

Nate scowled but walked up to Lauren and switched her arm from Zach’s to his.

“So, Ashley, do you have a last name?” asked Zach as they set off toward the dance hall.

“No, like Beyoncé and Madonna, I only need one.” She chuckled at his puzzled expression. “Just kidding. It’s Drayton. Ashley Drayton.”

“Feisty little thing. Got it.” He made a check mark in the air with his finger. “You don’t sound like you’re from around here. Where did you call home before San Antonio?

“Charleston, South Carolina. Born and raised there. And are you a Texas boy?” She walked her fingers up his arm. His eyes darkened and she got a thrill knowing she had caused the reaction. Men were so easy.

He swallowed then flashed a grin that set her heart galloping. “Through and through. The Kincaids have been in Texas for generations. My family owns a ranch just north of here. What do you do for a living?”

“I’m an accountant. I moved here to join a small firm,” she answered, “and what about you?”

“My chief claim to fame is that I’m a World Champion Team Roper.” He pointed to a belt buckle about the size of Rhode Island. “When I’m not riding the rodeo circuit, I help my dad run our spread,” he replied.

“You compete in rodeos? Sounds dangerous, but it looks like you still have all your body parts and your teeth are either intact or you have an amazing dentist.” 

“Yes ma’am, I do. While team roping is not quite as tough on the body as bull and bronc riding, broken bones and pulled muscles are occupational hazards. That said, everything you see – teeth included – is all me.” He spread his free arm wide and posed.

“Good to hear. I’d hate to see that very spectacular body messed up,” murmured Ashley in her soft, South Carolina drawl.

Zach chuckled. “You let me know if you want to see more.” He winked. “I’d be happy to oblige.”

Ashley merely graced him with a sultry smile.

****

The noise crashed into them like a wave. They had to hunch forward to absorb it as they walked through the door. Music from the live band, the stomp of the dancers’ boots and the buzz of hundreds of very loud conversations flowed around them. The little spitfire on Zach’s arm seemed to soak up the energy and apparently couldn’t wait to get on the dance floor. Her feet, head, hips and shoulders were already picking up the beat. Zach watched the movement and his mouth went dry.

And that smile in the parking lot? He’d felt the earth shift beneath his feet and sweat trickle down his back. For such a tiny little thing, she packed a punch.

“Quite an impressive collection,” Ashley paused, her manicured nail pointing to a wall filled top to bottom with images of famous and famous hopefuls.

“We’ve been lucky to hear some of the best in the business,” said Zach.  He placed his hand at the small of her back enjoying the feel of the music pulsing through her body and ushered her through the dining area and into the dance hall. The room had a stage and dance floor at one end, long trestle tables and benches in long rows at the other end and pool tables in a side alcove. The smell of beer and fried food hung in the air.

Zach stopped, feet apart, to scan the room and check out the action. He was seemingly oblivious to the many female heads swiveling his direction.

“Looking for the next notch on your bedpost, cowboy? Lots of ladies to choose from tonight. A target rich environment if I ever saw one.” Ashley fluffed her hair and smiled at some man who was checking her out.

Zach glared at the man who wisely ambled off in the other direction. Couldn’t the idiot see this woman was with him tonight? Zach. Didn’t. Share.

“Any chance you could be one of the ladies under consideration?” His mouth quirked up in a slow, sexy grin. The way she sucked in a quick breath then looked away told him she was just as attracted to him as he was to her.

“Not on your life.” She smacked her palm against his chest and gave him a shove. “I’m here to dance so let’s get moving.”

“Works for me… and for your information, I’m not checking out the ladies, they’re checking me out. Not much I can do about that.”

“Cocky are we?”

“I prefer self-assured. Here, let me help you with your coat.” His breath caught in his throat as the coat slipped down her arms. The lady had curves to spare and God in his infinite wisdom had put them in all the right places. She put Dolly Parton to shame with that tiny waist and breasts that would fill even his big hands.

“I can see I’ll be spending my evening beating off the competition. Talk about the lady with the red dress on and cowboy boots… mmm, mmm… Oh, Lauren, you’re looking fine, too,” he added as an afterthought. “We’ll go check your coats. Why don’t you two go grab those spots?” he nodded toward some empty spaces at one of the tables. “Can we fetch a drink for you on our way back?”

Both ladies nodded.

“What’s your poison?” he queried.

“Corona,” they said in unison.

“Ah, women after my own heart.” Zach placed his hand over his heart and sighed contentedly.

Ashley watched the two brothers walk away. “The man should be in a designer jean commercial. That butt of his sure makes me want to buy a pair.” She leaned in close to her friend and yelled, “So what about you and Nate? What’s the story?”

“Not sure at the moment. Even though he doesn’t think we’re right for each other, in the end, he won’t know what hit him,” Lauren ran her tongue around her lips. “He just needs some help layering a little gray into his black and white world and I intend to put that paint brush in his hand.”

She paused and tried to look like the thought had just occurred to her. “By the way, Zach is quite a catch. Not only is he a big rodeo star but will one day own, the Rocking K Ranch.”

“I don’t know, he hasn’t picked the most secure way to earn a living – and rodeo and risk-taking – seem to go hand-in-hand. I’m not asking for much from a man and I’m not cutting anyone slack because they’re sexy as sin. That was the old me,” Ashley yelled. “New me, has a plan.”

“Oh, you and your plan,” Lauren yelled back. “I still don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“What plan?” asked Zach taking a seat next to Ashley on the bench and handing her a beer.

Zach put on his poker face as she looked him up and down apparently coming to a decision. “You seem like a nice guy and my best friend is dating your brother so you might as well know the score from the beginning. I don’t want any hard feelings down the line.  Let’s go someplace a little quieter and talk,” suggested Ashley.

“Sure, grab your beer and let’s head to the bar in the dining area.” Zach stood up and offered his hand to Ashley. He smothered the grin dancing at his lips when he felt her hesitation before placing her hand in his.

When they reached the bar, he pulled out a stool for her, then settled on one right next to her. “So, what is this plan and what has it got to do with me?”

“First a little history so you understand where I’m coming from,” she said. “To say my love life has been a disaster is putting it mildly.” He noticed how she forced her shoulders to relax but her hands restlessly twisted the beer bottle back and forth. “Every man I’ve been seriously interested in ended up being a cheating, lying, narcissistic jerk. The last guy, my fiancé, the man who was supposed to protect me and love me forever, left me high, dry and nearly penniless.”

She shrugged, “I was stupid. I trusted him and put everything we would be sharing in our married life in both our names… condo, bank accounts, my precious little red Miata – lost it all. When he dumped me, he put a big hole in my financial security… it was a mess.”

“That’s harsh. I can see why you’re skittish.” He put a hand on her arm and tilted his head to look into her eyes.

“That’s when I decided my life needed a new direction so I moved here and set up some guidelines to help me weed out the undesirables.”

“I’m listening,” he said.

“To start with, Mr. Right needs to have a good, steady job with great benefits. Shows he’s responsible.” She ticked the list off on her fingers as she talked. “Second, if there is even a hint in social media or from his friends that he’s a player – he’s out. Third, he needs to be involved in something that helps others. Shows he has compassion. And finally, risk-takers and gamblers are out. These seem to be the traits the men who hurt me had in common. I don’t think I’m asking a lot, just an honorable man with a good job.” She sat up a little straighter, if that was possible, and squared her shoulders ready to do battle.

“So where does that leave someone like me in your grand scheme?” he asked. “I’m an honorable man.”

She took a dainty sip from her beer. “Friends?” she asked hopefully. “I’m sorry, but you just don’t seem like a good risk and I refuse to give my heart to a jerk.” She cringed and touched his arm, “Not that you’re a jerk and I’m sure you’re an honorable man, but I have to be careful.”

“And what makes you think I’d be interested in dating you?”

She opened her mouth, closed it, then said, “Nothing. I guess. You and your brother came here without dates so I assumed you came to pick up women… and I’m a woman.”

“That you are.” He raised a brow and let his gaze travel over her body. “By that reasoning, should I assume you and Lauren came here to pick up men? I’m a man.” He smiled as sweetly as a wolf could smile. “You didn’t come with dates.”

She narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms. “We came here to dance and have some fun, not hookup with random guys.”

“But what if you met someone you were attracted to? What then?”

“If he asked me out, I’d probably accept but before I get serious, he’s going to have to meet my basic guidelines or there is no relationship.”

“Interesting theory,” he responded, but the wheels had already started turning. Friends, huh. He’d see about that. “Want to dance?”

She held out her hand and let him lead her back into the dance hall.

The lady had moves like nobody’s business. Watching her dance sent his heart rate and temperature into overdrive. Lordy, the woman made it hard to put two thoughts together.

Her hips moved in a smooth side to side motion accenting a tush that was as close to perfect as any he’d ever seen… and he’d judged quite a few in his time. His hands easily spanned that tiny waist. As they two-stepped around the floor, he twirled her and was rewarded with a better look at legs that any red-blooded man would die to have wrapped around him. When he bent her back, he basked in the feel of that silken hair against his arm and the sight of those lush breasts straining against the fabric of her dress. If the song could go on for the next hour at least, he wouldn’t complain. In fact he might get down on his knees and thank his lucky stars.

He saw her glance every so often at the couple dancing nearby. If the man was looking, she’d execute a particularly seductive move. What’s going on here, Zach wondered? Is she trying to make him jealous or that other guy jealous? 

Near the end of the song, Zach got down on one knee and placed his hands at her waist so he could twist her side to side and feel the sway of her hips. When he rose, he pulled her so close a dime couldn’t fit between them, bent her back then pulled her upright and kissed her. Her lips, so soft and tender, scorched his soul.

The set ended and the band bounded off stage for a break. Zach took her hand in his, brought it to his lips then led Ashley back to their seats. He settled himself on the bench beside her, resting his elbows on the table behind him. He used two fingers to push his Stetson further back on his head and stretched those long, muscled legs out in front of him.

Zach nudged her with his elbow. “You like that guy?”

“What guy?” Ashley asked all innocence.

“The one you were putting on a show for.”

“Oh.” She shook her head slowly. “No. I thought about trying to make him jealous but,” she looked at him like he was the last bar of premium chocolate on the shelf, “I’ve since changed my mind and decided he is not worth my time. He dumped me for the skank he’s dancing with and that pissed me off. I wanted to get even.”

She pulled out her lipstick and smoothed the deep, red color over her lips. Zach licked his and swallowed hard.

He cleared his throat. “That says something about his intelligence right there. His loss, my gain, is the way I see it.” He stood and angled his head at Nate indicating he should join him. “Well, I think it’s time to refresh those drinks.”

****

“I see what you were trying to do,” Lauren hissed in Ashley’s ear as soon as the men were out of earshot. “Are you really sure you want to make Jerk Face jealous? You realize Sam is so conceited he’ll probably think you want him back.” She paused, “You don’t want him back, do you?”

“No.” Ashley made a hex sign. “It didn’t take Zach long to figure out what I was up to. He sees too much.” Ashley sighed, “It’s a shame he’s not suitable happily-ever-after material.” She clasped her hands tightly in her lap. “While too yummy for words and his kiss…” She rolled her eyes. “The tingle is still happening, but I’m determined to stick to my plan.” 

Lauren shook her head. “Ashley, did you ever think that maybe it was their wealth, social standing or Ivy League education – the qualities your mother thinks are important – that made those losers you fell for the way they are? There’s more to a good man than a steady job with good benefits.”

“True,” Ashley nodded, “so maybe I need to add, ‘no narcissists need apply’ to my list. There has to be some way to keep from falling for the bad boy over and over again.”

Lauren glanced up. “Speak of the devil,” Lauren muttered. “Don’t look now but here comes Sam.”

****

“Oh quit looking so sour,” Zach chided his brother. “You get to spend the night dancing and enjoying the company of a gorgeous woman and you look like you’ve eaten a whole jar of pickles. Get over yourself.”

 “What do you know? I don’t see you settling down any time soon,” groused Nate.

“I didn’t say anything about settling down,” said Zach, “only ditching the sour. You’re making some interesting connections, big bro.” He chuckled in a way that only a younger brother can at the discomfort of an older sibling. “But as far as settling down, it’s only because the right woman hasn’t walked into my life yet,” he shrugged, “that and timing I suppose. Too busy rodeoing and ranching to have given much thought to getting serious about a woman,” Zach drawled. “But as long as she loves ranching and rodeoing, I’m ready and willing to give up my bachelor ways when she does show up.”

He elbowed his way to the bar. “Four Coronas, Ma’am,” he held up four fingers then tipped his hat slightly to the bar maid. Zach snagged the four bottles off the counter, turned and handed two to Nate.

“The woman drives me nuts,” Nate muttered. “If only she were a little more conventional.”

“And by conventional, you mean was born and raised in Texas, looks like the girl next door instead of a super model, cooks dinner every night and it damn well better be meat and potatoes and if she never has to travel farther than 100 miles from home she’d be happy as a clam?”

Nate scowled. “Smartass.”

Zach looked at his brother and shook his head, “Well, try and lighten up and have a little fun, bro. I don’t want these ladies looking elsewhere, at least not right away.”

“Looks like someone is trying to muscle in on your territory,” observed Nate. Given the glower on Zach’s face, he had already noticed.

Can I shoot him, Zach wondered? From the look on Ashley’s face, the guy she called Jerk Face was invading her personal space and Zach didn’t like it one bit. Look at him, trying that ‘lean in’ move, getting kissing close and pretending he just wants to talk to her. Time to let this guy know where things stand.

Zach plastered on his most devilish grin and sidled right up to Ashley. He strategically positioned himself between the interloper and the lady he had started thinking of as his.

He slipped his arm across her shoulders, “Mister, it looks like you’re digging one deep hole for yourself by talking to my date.” Zach nodded toward an extremely disgruntled blonde who was shooting daggers into Sam’s back. “Personally, if I were you, I’d make tracks back over to the woman you’re with or you might find yourself flying solo.”

“Her? Women like her are a dime a dozen. If she takes off, I’ll just find another.” Sam tilted his head, nose in the air, eyes filled with disdain.

“Spoken like a true gentleman,” Zach responded.

“You only need to be a gentleman when you’re with a lady,” Sam replied.

“Any woman you’re with is a lady,” Zach ran his hand up and down Ashley’s arm.

“Yeah, well it wasn’t so long ago that your date, was my date, so that makes her a…”

“Stop it right there.” Zach glared like an angry bear.

Ashley grabbed Zach’s hand before the two got into it and started pulling him toward the dance floor. “Let’s dance.” She wiggled her hips and smiled enticingly as she backed toward the thick of the action.

“I’m yours,” Zach grinned, “and can’t wait to get my arms around you again, but no more trying to make someone else jealous.”

Ashley crossed her heart with one finger. “I promise. And thank you for rescuing me.”

As she stepped into his arms, she said, “I can’t imagine what I saw in him. Another indication that my scum bag detector needs some serious recalibration. I don’t seem to be able to tell the good guys from the bad.”

“It’s easy,” Zach chuckled. “Us good guys wear white hats.” He tipped his head down so the brim of his white Stetson touched her forehead, then he gave her a twirl and pulled her in close as he two-stepped her backwards.

“Haven’t you heard about wolves in sheep’s clothing? Jerk Face could wear a white hat and he would still be lower than a snake’s belly.”

“You do have a point,” Zach swallowed a laugh, “but for the record, my hat is white and Jerk Face is wearing a brown hat.”

“Okay, until proven otherwise, I’ll semi-trust you, but I’d be willing to bet that not all your hats are white.”

“I do pull a dark one out from time-to-time.” His lips touched her ear. “I don’t claim to be an angel, but I believe in treating women with respect no matter what color hat I’m wearing.”

She snuggled deeper into his embrace. For now it was enough to luxuriate in the feel of him until the music ended.

As they walked back to the table Zach put his arm around her waist and pulled her in tight, then kissed her on the temple. “You smell good,” he whispered.

“Thank you.”

“You want to get out of here?” At her suspicious expression, he quickly added, “There’s a diner just down the road that serves breakfast 24 hours a day – and it’s the best you’ll ever taste.”

“Why is everything in Texas always the biggest or the best?”

“Because it’s the truth,” his mouth quirked up in a way that would make even the most devout man-hater melt at his feet.

While she still wanted to keep on dancing, especially if it meant staying in his arms, she heard herself saying, “Sure, sounds good. I’ve never had breakfast so late at night, but remember – just friends.” She paused mid-step so that he bumped into her, “Oh wait, Lauren came with me and I’ll need to take her home. Maybe we could do a rain check?”

“I bet I can talk my brother into making sure Lauren gets home safe and sound,” he nodded toward the dance floor and said couple locked in a tight embrace. “In fact, I doubt it will take much persuading.”

Zach walked over to Nate and Lauren and after a brief discussion, rejoined Ashley.

“We’re all set. Prepare yourself for a little taste of heaven”

Good thing he couldn’t read her thoughts or he’d know what little slice of heaven she really hungered after. Perhaps another one of those earth-shaking kisses?  Keep thinking, only friends, only friends.

 

 

Chapter Two

 

“When you said it was just down the road, I thought you meant a few blocks, not 40 miles,” Ashley said as Zach helped her out of her car.

“Honey, 40 miles is just down the road in Texas.”

“Right, I forgot. Everything is bigger in Texas.”

“Damn straight.” Ashley felt his eyes following the movement of her butt as she walked past him into the diner and put an extra swing in her step. The man was Adonis in a Stetson, all six foot of him and a girl couldn’t help but put on a show.

He leaned down and whispered in her ear. “My mama taught me to be a gentleman and let the lady walk in front. Little did I know my manners would give me one of the best views in Texas.”

Obviously he knew that one way to a Southern woman’s heart was good manners, she reflected. While his comment shoved him a little closer to the bad boy corner, she could live with that and being one of the best views in Texas didn’t hurt.

“Welcome. Table for two?” Zach nodded at the hostess. “Follow me, please.”

He saw Ashley’s eyes go big when a waitress scurried by carrying a plate filled with the house specialty.

“I hope that cinnamon bun is destined for a table of ten to share,” she whispered.

“No Ma’am, that there is thee pounds of mouthwatering goodness that a man will only share with someone special. Otherwise, it’s all his.” He gave her hand a squeeze and she felt the jolt of electricity tap dancing along her spine. “Want to share?” he leaned into her playfully.

“Friends only… remember?” she murmured when her brain started working again.

“If you say so.” He smiled and nodded pleasantly at the many women they passed. She supposed he had to acknowledge them when they were eyeballing him like he was the house specialty. Hard to ignore that kind of interest.

He pulled out a chair and helped her get seated earning a few more points in the tally she didn’t realize she’d been keeping. One mark for manners and one demerit for noticing the other women.

Zach placed his hat on the table as the young waitress slipped the menus in front of them. She held up the coffee pot in an unspoken question. Zach nudged his coffee cup forward which the waitress promptly filled making sure he got an eyeful of her charms. “Can I get you anything else?”

“Decaf, please,” said Ashley pulling the woman’s attention away from Zach. The waitress’s smile as she filled Ashley’s mug was as fake as the Prada purses sold on the street corners of New York.

When Zach mouthed ‘decaf’ and raised eyebrows, Ashley added primly, “I have to work tomorrow and regular will keep me awake.”

“Did I say anything?” he asked.

She frowned, “Not out loud, but you intimated that decaf is for sissies.”

“You don’t have to justify yourself to me.” He held up his hands in peace. “By the way, what color are those eyes of yours?” He rested is his forearms on the table and cradled his coffee in his large, strong hands.

“Violet comes closest.” She gazed into his sky blues and treated him to that flirtatious look Southern women have spent centuries perfecting. Reel them in, then decide if the man should be catch and release or plopped into the cooler to keep.

“So what do you do when you aren’t burning up the dance floor and driving men crazy.

“My life is basically boring and right now mostly revolves around work. Tax season kicks into high gear in another few weeks,” she said. “It’s not a topic for party conversation, but it does occupy a big chunk of my waking hours.”

“If you don’t talk about your job, what do you talk about at parties?”

“Growing up in my social circle, girls were trained to be the perfect Southern debutante – ask questions, look interested in what the men say and appear to be demur. Our job was to make the single men feel like kings.”

“Only the single men?”

“In the world according to my mother the whole point of an unattached, young woman attending a social function was to find a suitable husband. Married men were not part of our circle.”

“What about married women? Why would they go to a social function?”

“To gossip about the women who aren’t there, push their daughters at eligible men and keep their husbands in line, or at least, discreet. There is nothing more formidable than a Southern matriarch, and husbands forget that at their peril.”

“And you subscribe to the theory that you need to keep your man in line?”

“Nope.” Her lips made a popping sound when she pronounced the ‘p.’ “If a man can’t keep himself in line, then he’s not the right man for me. I plan to marry for love, or not at all, a concept my mother cannot understand.”

“Your parents didn’t marry for love?”

She shrugged. “No, but not unusual in my world. Pedigree trumps feelings. Your spouse needs to come from the right family, have attended the right schools and be wealthy.”

The waitress stopped at their table, order pad poised. “What can I get for you?”

“I’ll have the chicken fried steak,” Zach rubbed his hands together.

“Fruit salad for me, please.”

“Coming right up,” the waitress said.

“Surly a little thing like you is not on a diet? What are you, about five foot two and a hundred pounds dripping wet?” Zach asked.

“A woman never discusses her weight.” She graced him with a Queen Elizabeth stare but her smile softened the reprimand. “No, I’m not on a diet. That is soo not my style. I just don’t like to eat a heavy meal this late at night.”

“Glad to hear you’re not one of those women who thinks she needs to live on rabbit food to attract a man,” he drawled.

“No, but realistically if a woman doesn’t look appealing, her chances of catching a man’s interest plummet faster than the boobs of a woman over sixty.”

When Zach stopped choking on his coffee, he said, “On that note, back to our conversation, if I want to learn more about you, parties are out. What about a coffee shop?” He gently nudged her foot under the table.

“Sure, this is as good a place as any. What do you want to know? My life’s an open book.”

“How could someone as amazing as you end up with the string of losers you’ve talked about?” He paused for a couple of beats, a puzzled expression on his face. “I mean, are all the guys in South Carolina crazy, or blind or both?”

“And let us not forget the guys in North Carolina where I went to college, and now we can add Texas guys to the list.” She looked at him frankly. “No, I’m beginning to think it has something to do with me. I obviously have a character flaw that makes me choose lying, cheating, thieving, low-life cretins over and over again. Wash, rinse, repeat. That’s me.”

 “Don’t be so hard on yourself. In my opinion, any man who treats a woman like that ought to be horsewhipped.” He reached over and took her hand rubbing his thumbs lightly over her soft skin. “Maybe you’re just looking in the wrong places. Where are you finding these guys?”

“They’re boys I grew up with, met at college, people who were part of my social circle – pretty typical scenarios – but if there is a loser out there, he will find me and I will fall for him.”

“So where do you look now so you don’t meet the same kind of guy?”

“I’ve thought about joining young professional groups, doing more charity work or connecting with a single’s group that offers cultural activities. Those seem like good places to meet serious-minded men. No matter where I meet them, I am determined to take a closer look at their character before letting them into my heart.”

“Sounds like you don’t plan to meet your ideal man at the rodeo.”

“Not likely. As I understand it, you only earn money if you’re one of the winners, otherwise it’s cash down the drain… so rodeoers don’t meet the steady job requirement. They’re drifting through life… while doing what they love is great, where are they going to be when they’re fifty? I want someone who is responsible, who has a life plan.”

“It’s true, we don’t get paid if we don’t win. A lot of guys just get by and their day job pays the bills. But no one’s job is certain anymore. We could all find ourselves on the street when we’re fifty.”

“True, but rodeoing is also risky so they don’t meet that criteria and by reputation, the non-player clause is questionable. I’m standing firm. Rodeo men need not apply.”

“Well ma’am, if you don’t mind me saying, you’re leaving some of the best men I know on the table.” He twisted his coffee mug back and forth by the handle. “We’re a very loyal, hard-working bunch of guys, committed to perfecting our craft, big on family values and our word is our bond. Sounds to me like you could do a lot worse.”

“Honey, every man I ever dated promised me the sun and the moon but delivered swamp land instead, so excuse me if I want proof before I decide to trust a man.”

Conversation stalled as the waitress slipped their plates in front of them.

“My goodness,” Ashley’s jaw dropped, “are you really planning on eating all of that?”

“Sure ‘nough.” The obvious pleasure on his face as he prepared to tuck into a ‘Texas-sized’ plate piled high with food, made her laugh.

“I don’t know why you don’t look like the Pillsbury Dough Boy.”

“Ranching and rodeoing is hard work and tends to keep a man fit.”

“I can see that.”

“If you are going to keep looking at me like I’m the main course on a starving man’s menu, we need to take this party someplace more intimate.”

“No need.” She held up her hands, palms facing him. “But, to my detriment, I do admire a good-looking man especially if he is a little bit bad,” she said caressing him with her gaze.

He shifted in his seat, his jeans feeling a bit snug in the crotch.

She daintily sliced a piece of cantaloupe, and after she had chewed and swallowed, continued, “It does make sense that running a ranch would keep you in tip-top shape. My family owns a working plantation in South Carolina and there always seems to be something that needs to be fixed, animals that need tending or crops that require attention.”

He sat back visibly surprised. “Really? A plantation? Like in ‘Gone with the Wind’?”

She chuckled and shook her head. Her hair swung in slow motion like one of those sexy hair commercials causing all his brain activity to travel south and pool between his legs. It was all he could do to clamp down on the impulse to jump over the table and kiss her senseless.

“I guess it could be compared to Tara minus the cotton crops, slaves, mansion and hoop skirts.” Ashley waved her hand in front of her face like a fan and fluttered her lashes.

“Huh,” he said, a puzzled frown creasing his forehead.

“Plantation. ‘Gone with the Wind.’ Remember?”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry… mind wandered.”

Her look told him she knew exactly where his mind had wandered. Her smile reminded him of something sleek, sexy and exotic stretching and purring.

“Uh, so tell me about this plantation of yours.” He nervously repositioned his hat on the table. What was it about her that made him feel like he was fourteen again and still wet behind the ears where girls were concerned… not knowing what to say, how to act, what to do. He thought he was past all that.

He loved her smile and the faraway look in her eyes as she thought about how to answer. “You care about your land.” He said it as a simple statement of fact.

“Yes, that’s the place I’ve always felt most at home,” she answered thoughtfully. “My brother, Michael, and I took over the day-to-day management when we were still in high school. Mostly because we loved the place, but also because no one else in the family was interested in spending more than occasional weekend there hunting and fishing. They would have sold if it became too burdensome. Practical to the core, my family.”

She popped another piece of cantaloupe in her mouth and chewed saucily. He waited patiently, fascinated by the movement of her mouth.

“Luckily, Michael wanted to keep it in the family as much as I did. If I had been the only one, the family would have let it go. ‘It’s not a woman’s place to run a working plantation,’” she singsonged a phrase she’d obviously heard a lot. “It shouldn’t have made a difference. Historically women have kept the wolves at bay and homesteads working when the men were absent.”

“Amen to that one,” he agreed. “My mama has as much to do with running the ranch as my dad. They’re quite a team.”

“So you approve of a woman carrying her weight in business?”

“Darlin’, I not only approve, but the woman I eventually settle down with, has to want to work the ranch with me.”

“You say that now, but will you say that after the ink has dried on the marriage certificate?”

“Okay, sounds like a bit of a sore spot and maybe too heavy a topic for our first non-date,” he folded her hand up in his. “I know you have one brother and it sounds like you’re close to him. Any other siblings?”

“Smooth transition and nice dodge,” she said, “but don’t expect to get off so easily next time.” She pulled her hands out of his. “I have two other older brothers. William Blaine Drayton IV – name’s a bit pretentious but it suits Blaine to a ‘t’ – and Jonathan. I’m the baby.” She paused, “I’ve met Nate. Any other Kincaids roaming around?”

“Our youngest brother, Josh, rounds out the Kincaid sibling count. No girls – much to my mother’s sorrow who kept hoping to have the chance to buy frilly stuff. It figures, the first grandchild, Josh’s son, was a boy. I’m the middle child.”

“Ah, let me guess, the famous middle child syndrome rears its ugly head?”

He narrowed his eyes, wondering if he should ask but decided to take the chance. “Explain?”

“This is what I get for hanging out with Lauren… lots of psychological theories. According to studies, middle children are over-achievers and/or class clowns in their quest to get noticed, are the family peace makers, feel less pressure to conform and are more out-going and flexible than older and younger siblings. Any of that ring true?”

“Never thought about it, but I guess I would have to be an over achiever to get where I’m at professionally. I’d say I am more of a conformist than either of my brothers since I’m the only one who followed in my dad’s and granddad’s footsteps. Peace-maker in a house full of boys… not so much. Outgoing? Yeah, I like people. Sounds like the theory is partly true for me. How about you? Are you the typical, spoiled baby of the family?”

“You’d think being the only girl and the youngest to boot, that I would fit the stereotype, but sadly no, I was viewed as less valuable than the boys. ‘You’re too little and you’re a girl, you can’t do that.’ Naturally, whatever it was I couldn’t do, was exactly what I wanted to do.” She used her fork to chase a piece of fruit around on her plate. “I probably turned out more like a middle child fighting for attention. I didn’t fit their image of what I should be, so I wasn’t the most popular child in the family.”

“And what did they expect you to be?”

“Perfect little lady, of course. Seen and not heard. Someone they could easily ignore but trot out to perform on cue when convention dictated children should be present.”

Wow,” he looked as stunned as he sounded. “Even though our upbringing was rough and tumble, we were always there for each other and knew we were loved. I can’t imagine what it must have been like for you. Sounds lonely.”

“Lonely?” She shrugged. “Most of my life I just felt like an ornament you hang on the tree.” She quickly glanced at her watch. “Oh, my, look at the time. I’ve got to go.”

“To repeat your words… nice dodge. I’m guessing your family dynamics is another touchy subject?”

“Sort of, but I really do need to go. I have client meetings scheduled all day tomorrow and need to get my beauty sleep.”

“Well darling’, given how gorgeous you are, you must get lots of sleep.”

“Smooth, very smooth.” She licked her finger, held it in the air and made a sizzling noise.

As he helped her into her jacket he said casually, “I’ll be in town next Wednesday to finish filming a promo for one of my sponsors. Any chance you could join me for lunch? I hate eating alone.” He tried a ‘poor me’ look hoping to make her laugh.

It worked and she chuckled. “I can’t imagine you would ever have trouble rustling up a dining companion. Just crook your finger and half the females in the county would come running.”

“You think only half would come running? I’m wounded.” He placed his hand over his heart and staggered back.

“Sweetie, the other half are either too young, too old or too married.” She turned and looked at him obviously considering the wisdom of accepting his invitation. He held his breath while he buttoned her coat and snugged it around her looking intently into those fascinating violet eyes.

“OK, why not? Next Wednesday for lunch.” She fished into her purse and pulled out a business card. “Here’s where you can pick me up.”

She had a sneaking suspicion her acceptance had a lot to do with the amazing things his touch did to her insides. The simple act of buttoning her coat had most likely short-circuited her rational brain and made her feel all warm and yielding.