Mister Cowboy, page 2
Tina chuckled quietly, and he turned, smiling and shaking his head as he stepped into the center of the room. His movement didn’t go unnoticed, and the conversations quieted as everyone turned their attention to him. “Thank you all for coming tonight. We are here to celebrate all your hard work that has led to the signing of another big client. As I was on my way here, I was also informed that Blackstone Software has been named one of the top five information technology companies in Denver for the third year in a row.”
Applause and hoots echoed through the room, and he took the moment to truly appreciate the people who shared his drive and vision and helped to make his own dreams a reality.
“Enjoy the food and drinks. Monday we get back to work.” He raised his glass and flashed his white smile. “Cheers.”
The noise in the room erupted as everyone clinked their glasses together in celebration. Tina smiled with an approving smirk.
After he took his place in the corner, his eyes looked for January at the bar. She was gone, probably to enjoy what was left of her birthday. His lips pulled into a half smile at the memory of her shocked face when she realized he was the reason her night had been ruined. She’d been right about one thing. This party was lame. And so was the idea of him hanging around and being “approachable”.
He let out a sigh as Tina turned to him. “The realtor called again about the ranch. I think she’s anxious to get the place on the market. It’s worth a killing, I’m sure.”
The idea of making money off the old family ranch should have had him calling her back. He was as excited to make that call as he was about being at this party.
“It’ll still be worth a killing in another month when things settle down at work.”
Tina shot him another disapproving look, but his cell phone vibrated in his pocket, giving him a reprieve from her questions. Though, after he saw who was calling, he wished he hadn’t looked. Henry had been calling nearly every day since their father had passed. He wasn’t sure what he could possibly want after all this time, but he wasn’t ready to find out, either.
Resigned, he said, “I gotta take this,” and walked toward the exit, but declined the call before putting his phone to his ear.
“Brecken!” Tina called after him, but he didn’t stop. He needed to get out of there, and he’d meant what he’d said earlier—no one was going to have any fun with the boss hanging around.
The cold air greeted him as he shoved the heavy bar door open, but he ignored the bite as he crossed the street to his car, climbed in, started the engine, and pulled into the late-night traffic.
He could keep delaying the inevitable, selling the ranch, which had its advantages. If he didn’t sell, then he didn’t have to go there and deal with all the memories and stuff left behind. On the other hand, he could buck up and deal and be done with it. The phone calls he’d been dodging would probably stop too.
He hung a right, gritting his teeth as he mulled over his next steps. Maybe he could task Tina with whatever was needed to get the ranch ready to sell. The sound of his own laughter filled the car as he imagined Tina telling him to go straight to hell.
3
January
Crossing the street with her phone in hand, January scrolled through the birthday wishes posted by family and friends. She was lost in the world of social media when the blare of a horn and squeal of tires caused her to jump back just in time to miss colliding with the car headed straight for her.
She held a hand up to her chest and tried to steady her heart rate. She was too shocked to notice the driver as he exited the car until his voice called out over her erratic breathing.
“I could have run you over. What in the hell were you thinking crossing the street with your head buried in your phone?”
Just like that, her heart went from beating wildly out of control in fear to beating wildly out of control for a very different reason. Brecken was standing in front of her. She looked between his sleek black sports car, which was only inches from her legs, and the man, who was standing menacingly before her. His suit jacket was gone and the top button of his shirt was undone, revealing tan, golden skin at the base of his neck. There was a wild look in his eyes. Fear? Anger? Both? She didn’t have time to decide before her vision went fuzzy around the edges, adrenaline cutting off her ability to take a decent breath.
“Are you hurt?” he asked when she still hadn’t spoken. His voice was softer this time, but his body still appeared tense.
Placing a steadying hand on the hood of his car, she answered as she tried to calm her nerves. “Yes. No. I-I think I just need a moment.”
As the last word left her lips, she swayed, and he caught her in his arms before she collapsed on the hood of his car. “Easy. I got you,” he whispered, sweeping her up and cradling her against his chest as he moved to his passenger’s side.
She relaxed against him, not caring in the least that he picked her up as if she weighed nothing. Any other time she would have scoffed at the idea of almost fainting, after all, she wasn’t a damsel in distress. And as soon as she could get her knees to stop acting like Jell-O and her lungs to work like they should, she would actually act like it.
He placed her in the front seat of his car and squatted down beside her. His eyes were shadowed with concern that she hadn’t expected. “I think we should take you to the emergency room and have you checked out. You look a little pale.”
“I’m fine. You didn’t even hit me—just scared me.” Still, she attempted to sit forward in the seat, only to be met with a wave of dizziness that had her leaning back again.
“Okay. I assume your boyfriend is still working. Is there someone else I can call for you?”
January’s eyes popped open. “Boyfriend?”
“Michael.” He nodded in the direction of the bar.
“Yes, I mean no.”
His eyes crinkled as she struggled to piece together a coherent sentence.
“Yes, he’s working, but no, Michael isn’t my boyfriend. We’re just friends.” She sat forward slowly, taking a couple of deep breaths until her stomach settled and her equilibrium returned. “I live right up the street; I’ll be fine to walk. Thank you for not running me over,” she said in a mocking tone.
She swung her legs out of the car, expecting Brecken to move back out of her way. Instead, he braced his hands on either side of the open door. “I’d really feel better if you had someone with you until your pretty pink color comes back.”
She met his eyes, struggling to decipher his body language and tone. Was he flirting or simply stating facts? He was so open and free with his words, yet she found him so confusing, too.
“Fine. You can drop me back at the bar.”
He nodded and shut the door. Alone in his expensive car, she inhaled his masculine scent mixed with rich smell of the leather interior.
After he’d settled into the driver’s seat and started the engine, he looked to her. “Doing all right?”
‘I’m okay. Really.”
“Decided not to go out after Michael was done working tonight, I assume?”
“And I see you decided to skip out on your party early.”
She could make out the faintest hint of a smile in the darkened car. “I did my part.”
“Which was?”
“I paid for the food and booze.”
The parking lot and side street had cleared, and as he parked in front of the bar she could see inside the front window. “Looks like the party ended pretty quick without you.”
He shrugged with one shoulder. “I’m sure they had other Friday night plans.”
The way he said it, as if maybe he were a little jealous, made her want to peel back the many layers of Brecken Blackstone.
“Buy me a drink?” she asked, not believing the words coming out of her mouth. “It is still my birthday after all, and you did ruin it.”
A slow smile spread across his face. “Whatever the birthday girl wants.”
January leaned against the bar and pushed to her tiptoes as she pointed to a shelf lined with wine and liquor bottles.
“You’re sure?” Michael raised his eyebrows then shook his head as he grabbed the zinfandel.
She felt him assessing her as he pulled the cork and grabbed two glasses before placing them in front of her.
“It’s just a drink.” She pushed a bill across the bar. “I need change, please,” she said more sweetly.
Michael laughed but turned to the register. “I don’t think that was what he had in mind when he gave you a hundred and told you to order whatever you wanted.”
He handed her the change and she winked. “He should have been more specific then.”
She carried the wine and glasses back to the table where Brecken sat. The intensity in his eyes forced her gaze to dip down and her breathing to hitch. He was so completely out of her league she wasn’t even going to pretend otherwise, which was what the cheap wine was all about.
She sat across from him, placing the bottle and glasses on the table. Then she slid the change back to him. “I hope you like zinfandel,” she said as she poured.
He eyed the wad of money. “I expected you’d get something a little more. . .”
“Expensive?” she finished for him.
“It’s the least I could do, considering I ruined your entire night,” he said in a teasing tone.
“And almost hit me with your car.”
He lifted the glass, and she followed suit. “Cheers.” He softly clinked his glass against hers before bringing it to his lips and drinking. He grimaced as he swallowed. “That’s terrible.”
With a smile, she tipped back her own glass. “You’d insult my wine choice?”
He smiled back and shrugged. “You have terrible taste in wine.”
“Do you always blurt out exactly what you’re thinking?”
“Depends. When I know I’m right, I don’t hold back.”
Was he still talking about the wine?
“Are you sure I can’t take you to get checked out? I may not have actually hit you, but you almost collapsed.”
She sat straight in the booth and carefully forced any emotion out of her voice. “A trip to the emergency room is expensive. Besides, I’m fine now.”
A flash of sympathy crossed his features, but it disappeared quickly behind his smile. “I have a friend over at Presbyterian/St. Luke’s if—”
“I’m fine. That won’t be necessary.”
He nodded, and they stared across the table. His face gave nothing away. It was as perfectly unreadable as she knew her own was. “What is it you do for work?” he asked after a moment.
“I’m a professional organizer.”
“Seriously?” His eyebrows shot up, but it was more a look of intrigue than of condescension.
She shot him a look, daring him to mock her career. Even if it was flailing along at the moment, she was proud of what she did.
“I’ve just never met anyone that was a professional organizer before. How’d you get into it?”
Her defensiveness eased at the sincerity of his second question. “It sorta found me, I suppose. I bounced around from job to job after college, miserable with a typical nine-to-five schedule, reporting to suits.” She laughed as he cocked an eyebrow. “Then, one day, I was at a friend’s house, looking through her closet, and wow, you should have seen it.” She smiled at the memory. “It was a mess. She had about a million little storage containers and those tacky hanging closet dividers shoved into this tiny little space. So, I convinced her to let me try to organize it. Several hours later, I had transformed her closet into a beautiful and functional space. She loved it, and I was hooked.”
“Is it mostly closets or do you get requests for entire homes?”
“It is a lot of closets or garages, but kitchen pantries are popular, too. I do it all,” she said with an air of pride.
“And what are you working on now?”
Her confidence faltered. “I’m between projects at the moment,” she said, fidgeting with her glass.
“Perfect.” He cleared his throat and pulled his wallet out of his jacket pocket. “I think I might have the perfect project for you… since you’re available.”
Again with the double entendre. Again with her cheeks heating, this time with a little spark of anger mixed in. Whatever he had in mind, she couldn’t be bought. Maybe he was cut more like the men her father worked with than she’d thought previously. “That isn’t necessary. I’m sure something will come along soon.”
He opened his wallet on the table and pulled out a card. “This isn’t a pity job, if that’s what you’re concerned about. I really do need some help.”
“What kind of job?” Fine, she decided, if the man who said what he meant said it wasn’t a pity job, she would at least hear him out.
He scribbled on the back of his business card and slid it across the table. Their fingertips touched, and they both froze, locking eyes. Did he feel it too—the energy and heat flowing between them? She pulled her hand away, taking the card with her.
“It might be easier to explain in person. If you’re interested, meet me here on Monday morning. It’s a short project, six to eight weeks max.”
“I don’t know,” she said, not wanting to tell him that his idea of a short project and hers were very different. Her longest running project to date had taken her a week to finish.
What in the world he could need help with? A stock room of computer parts?
“No pressure, but I hope you’ll consider it. I like you, January Lyle.”
She looked from him to his card, running her long fingernails over the raised imprint of his name. Then the soft chime of her phone had her reaching for her purse.
Dad.
Figures he’d wait to call when I’m sitting across from a beautiful man who is offering me a job.
“I’m sorry. It’s my father.”
With a nod of understanding, he stood, buttoning his jacket. The wad of cash still sitting on the table. “Think about it. Meet me Monday morning at seven if you’re interested. If not, then it was lovely to have met you.”
She nodded slowly, and he turned away. The air moved with him, and a cold breeze ran over her skin. He waved at Michael, who was busy cleaning up the last remnants of last call but paused long enough to wave back. Lifting the phone to her ear, she paused as his eyes met hers once more. A lazy smile lifted at one corner of his mouth and then he was gone.
4
Brecken
“If you don’t like being woken up so early you could always stay at your own place.” Brecken didn’t even try to hide the annoyance in his voice.
“It’s six AM. Can’t you stay in bed a little longer?” Nadia purred, letting the sheet drop from around her tits. Even they couldn’t convince him to stay this morning.
“Nope, I need to get to the ranch.”
“The ranch?” she asked, the surprise evident in her tone. “You aren’t going into the office?” She frowned.
“I’ll be in this afternoon. Cancel everything before noon today.”
She scrunched her eyebrows together and pursed her lips as she studied him. She knew better than to ask too many questions, but he could almost see them forming in a bubble over her head. Why was he going to the ranch? What was so urgent that he was canceling his morning meetings? Why hadn’t he told her earlier?
“Okay.” Is all she managed before he nodded and headed toward the door.
“I’ll see you in the office this afternoon.”
Taking the elevator down to the parking garage, he twirled the key ring around his finger.
“Good morning, Mr. Blackstone. Taking the Maserati to work today?”
“No, Ben. Taking the truck out today,” he said to the parking valet who eyed his attire and grinned. His suit was probably worth more than the old truck, but there was no way he was taking the car down the old gravel roads that led to the ranch.
“Have a good day, sir.”
The sun was beginning to rise as he drove out of the city. The roads were clear and quiet, the only sound was his constant tapping on the steering wheel. Nerves and a hint of excitement crept through his body as he turned onto the gravel road, which was lined with large trees on either side.
Brecken shifted in his seat, dropping one hand to mindlessly rest on the gearshift. Smiling at the old habit, he shook his head. Maybe some things, like driving a manual, never left you. He could only hope that wasn’t true across the board. He had no desire to go back to ranch life. The truck was a reminder of how far he’d come, nothing more.
The trees began to part, and through the windshield he got his first glimpse of the land and home that had been in his family for over fifty years. With everything that had happened—all the happy childhood memories that had been replaced with lies and deceit—he still loved this land. Its beauty stretched out as far as the eye could see, and it was picture perfect from every angle. Every view except from within.
The large iron gates with fancy, cursive B’s displayed ostentatiously on each side, opened with a press of a button on his key chain. He left it open in case January showed up. It was the start of the rancher’s day, a day that started before and extended well beyond that of most office hours. The best thing that he took away from growing up on a ranch was learning the benefit of working long and hard days. It served him well when his competitors took long lunches to schmooze clients then clocked out at five, while he remained chained to his desk, his head down and focused, determined to be a success in his own right.
He parked, cut the engine, and slid from the truck before inhaling deeply and letting the familiar smells and sounds surround him. His new employee would be arriving in a little under an hour and there was a lot to do—starting with figuring out what there was for her to do.
The truth was he had no idea what state the place was in. The ranch manager had been taking meticulous care of the land and animals, but Brecken himself hadn’t stepped foot inside the house in eighteen years. That was about to change.
