Going Cowboy Crazy (31 page)

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Authors: Katie Lane

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #FIC027020

BOOK: Going Cowboy Crazy
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“He just doesn’t want to see me get hurt.”

“Hurt?” He pulled back, and his hands dropped away. “I would never do anything to hurt you, Faith. You know that, don’t you?”

Her hands froze against his chest, and a painful silence followed. “Yes, I know that. But sometimes people can’t help but get hurt, Slate. Even when they go into a relationship with their eyes wide open.”

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what she was talking about. They had both stepped into the relationship knowing that Faith would be leaving soon. But knowing that wasn’t going to make it any easier to say good-bye. Maybe Burl should’ve run Slate off with his shotgun. Unfortunately, by the time Jenna and Burl showed up, it was already too late.

He swallowed and tried to keep his voice level. “I’ve been thinking.” He slipped a hand to her waist. “What if I drove you out to California to find Hope?” Her stomach fluttered beneath his fingers. “During football season?”

“I would be back for the game, and I could talk on the phone to my coaches—”

She placed a finger over his lips. “No. But thank you for the offer.”

He waited until she removed her finger before he continued with his craziness. “All right, then what if you were to move here?”

“Move here?”

“Why not? It doesn’t sound like you have any family left in Chicago besides some snooty aunt, and I’m sure you could get a job doing something here with computers. Or better yet, you could go back to school and get your teaching degree. There’s always openings at Bramble High for good teachers.” He knew he was rambling but he couldn’t seem to stop himself.

Luckily, she stopped him before he could start groveling. “What are you saying, Slate?”

Slate didn’t know what he was saying. All he knew was he liked being around Faith—liked seeing her in the stands, cuddling with her on a porch swing, and making love to her anywhere he could.

“I’m saying… don’t leave.”

The breath she released fell hot and heavy against his chest right before she melted into his arms.

“I don’t want to leave, either,” she whispered.

His arms came around her. “Then don’t.”

“But, Slate, I need to meet Hope.”

“I know you do. But if you quit your job, you’ll have plenty of time to go see her. In fact, if you can wait another month until football season is over, I’ll take you there myself. I had planned to take a couple weeks off, anyway.” A couple weeks off in Mexico. But suddenly
Mexico didn’t seem as wonderful as what he held in his arms. “And that will give Jenna time to talk with Hope—and Hope a chance to get used to the idea of having a twin sister.”

“And until then I continue to live with Jenna and Burl?”

“No. You move in with me. I’ve been thinking about hiring people to finish the house anyway. This will give me an excuse.”

“I don’t think Burl is going to go for that.”

“He won’t have a choice, if that’s what you want.” His arms tightened. “Is that what you want?”

Her answer came with sweet quickness. “Yes.”

His heart moved back down to his chest, and he released his breath as overwhelming relief filled him. “Okay then, we’ll talk to Burl tonight.”

She pulled back. “Not tonight, Slate. I want to stay with them for a few more days before we break the news.”

“Okay.” He kissed her head, then rested his cheek against it. “But I don’t know if I can take the swing much longer.”

“I thought you said something about a shower.”

Slate smiled. “Well, there is that.” He leaned back. “So, darlin’, do you think you’re as good with zippers as you are with snaps?”

“I don’t know.” Her fingers slid down his chest to the waistband of his jeans. “But I’m willing to try.” She flipped open the button and slid down his zipper.

Slate tipped his head back and closed his eyes.

It turned out she was better.

Much better.

Chapter Nineteen
 

T
HE LOCKER ROOM SHOWER WAS TWENTY TIMES
larger than Bubba’s, with no holes in the walls and an abundant supply of hot water. Standing beneath the steamy spray, it didn’t take long for Faith to get warmed up. Of course, Slate’s soapy hands skating over her body didn’t hurt, either. He made love to her against the cold tile and again on the leather couch when they went back to his office to get dressed.

By the time they were headed to Bootlegger’s, Faith felt sated and content. Not just because of the great sex, but because her cocky cowboy had asked her to live with him.

And she had said yes.

Faith realized she was probably being foolish. Logically speaking, it made no sense for her to move to a town where she didn’t have a way to support herself—a town where career opportunities had to be slim to none. Nor did it make any sense to move in with a man she’d known for only two weeks. But she’d been logical all her life, and not one of those logical decisions had made her as happy as this illogical one had.

Stupid or not, she was going to follow her heart.

And as much as she had tried to deny it, her heart belonged to Slate.

“Darlin’.” He kissed the top of her head. “There’s something I probably should mention before we get to Bootlegger’s.”

“Don’t tell me. The sheriff still hasn’t found my car.” She couldn’t stop her fingers from popping open a snap or two so she could caress the smooth skin beneath.

“Well, there’s that. But there’s something else you need to know.”

“I refuse to do one more parade.”

“Nope. There’s no more parades until Thanksgiving. But it’s almost as bad as a parade.” His grip tightened on the steering wheel. “You might even think it’s worse.”

Faith pulled back and looked up at him. “Spit it out, Coach.”

He sent her a cocky grin. “I love it when you get all sassy.” When she scowled, he continued. “It seems the folks of Bramble have started planning a wedding.”

“Really? Whose?” When he only stared at her, her eyes widened. “Ours?”

“Not ours, exactly. Mine and Hope’s.”

“You’ve got to be kidding. I knew they wanted you two to get married, but I didn’t think they meant now. They haven’t said a word to me.”

“And they won’t. The town’s always been a little afraid of Hope’s temper. And seeing how you already blame them for taking your car, they figure I’m the one who should break the wedding news to you.”

“But why didn’t you tell them you’re not marrying me—I mean Hope?”

His eyes narrowed as he looked out at the highway. “Well, at first I tried to, but then I figured why waste my breath. You’d be leaving soon, and Jenna and Burl would eventually break down and tell the truth.”

“So you did exactly what you’ve done for years. You let them believe something that wasn’t true.”

His face betrayed his discomfort. “Sort of.”

“Not sort of, Slate. You did. In fact, both of us are guilty of letting the town believe what they want. But I think it’s time we set them straight. I realize Jenna wants to tell Hope first, but if the entire town is planning a wedding, we need to stop them before things get too out of control.”

“I think it might be a little late for that, darlin’. The invitations went out today.”

Her mouth stayed open for a few seconds, before she snapped it shut. “Invitations? You mean they already have the date?”

“Two weeks from today. We don’t have a game that weekend, so I guess they figured it was the perfect time.”

She fell back in the seat, leaving a few inches between her and the body that seemed to suck out all her brain cells. “But it’s just plain crazy. People can’t just plan a wedding without consulting the people who are getting married.”

“Well, now, they did kind of consult me.”

“What?” She turned on him, wanting to beat him with the black cowboy hat perched on his head.

“Now don’t go getting all riled up. I didn’t think deciding on a few details would hurt anything.” He shook his head. “Of course, I didn’t really think the townsfolk would go this far, so my choices might’ve been a little careless.”
He shot a hesitant glance at her. “You like purple, don’t you, honey?”

“Purple! My wedding colors are purple?”

“And gold.”

“The team colors!”

He nodded down at the letterman’s jacket she wore. “You have to admit they look good on you.”

“Good on me!” she squeaked. “My wedding dress is gold and purple?” If she hadn’t been blindsided by the news of the wedding, it might’ve dawned on her that it didn’t matter what color the wedding dress was; she wouldn’t be wearing it anyway. But she just couldn’t get past the horrific image.

“If I remember the Polaroid, it’s purple with a gold bow.”

“Oh. My. God!” Faith flopped back and crossed her arms over her chest. “This is crazy.”

“Now, honey, it’s not that crazy considering everyone in town knows we’ve been spooning on Jenna’s porch swing for the last four nights. I guess they just figured they would hurry the process along a little.”

“A little? A wedding is a little?”

Slate grinned at her. “Okay. A lot.”

“So what are we going to do?”

“Well, since you’re not leaving, I guess we’d better tell them the truth.”

Suddenly, Faith didn’t feel as strongly about telling them. “Tonight?”

“Why not? Everyone will be there. Including Jenna and Burl. Of course, we should probably warn them before we say anything.” He reached over and pulled her back against his side.

She swallowed. “How do you think they’ll take it?”

He squeezed her close. “Well, I figure pretty good considering they’ll now have two hometown sweethearts to love instead of just one.”

“But this isn’t my hometown.”

Leaning down, he kissed the top of her head. “It is now, darlin’.” His voice held a smile. “It is now.”

But ten minutes later, Faith wasn’t so sure. The people she was about to inform that she was an impostor were the same people who painted their faces and bare chests purple and yelled obscenities at the referees. Certainly they wouldn’t treat a person who had fooled them for two weeks any better.

Hopefully, they wouldn’t treat her worse.

“Stop worrying,” Slate ordered as he helped her down from the truck that was parked on the sidewalk. “It’s not like we didn’t try to explain things to them to begin with. They were just too stubborn to listen.” His hand rode her back as they walked to the door. “And don’t be surprised if they’re still too stubborn.”

He pulled open the door of the bar, and a wave of smoke drifted out along with loud music and the rowdy laughter of partying cowboys. The noise level seemed a lot higher than the other two times she’d been there.

Reading her thoughts, Slate grinned down at her. “The last two times we were losers.”

Just inside the door, she paused and waited for her eyes to adjust to the dimly lit room. A country song blared from the jukebox, but the dance floor was empty. Everyone seemed to be clustered around the bar in noisy excitement.

Faith shot a questioning glance at Slate, but he only
shrugged. “Maybe they’re deciding on wedding rings.” When she glared at him, he laughed and took her hand. “Just kidding, sweetheart.” He tugged her along behind him. “The rings have already been decided on.”

“Great,” she muttered as she followed him to the edge of the group. Whatever or whoever they were gathered around had to be pretty entertaining because it took them a good five minutes to notice her and Slate. But when they did, the entire group seemed to turn as one.

“Helluva game, Coach.”

“Great game, Slate.”

“We sure showed them, didn’t we, Coach?”

“That new quarterback sure has an arm, don’t he? Where did you say he was from?”

Before Slate could say anything, someone answered for him. “He’s from Iowa. ’Course he was born in Texas.”

“Well, that explains it then.”

Faith couldn’t completely stifle the giggle that welled up inside her, which drew everyone’s attention. It was funny, but they didn’t look at her the way they usually did. Their manner was hesitant and guarded and a few of the men pulled off their hats.

She glanced up at Slate, who looked as confused as she was. His eyes remained puzzled until he glanced over to the bar. Then suddenly, every muscle in his body stiffened, including the ones in his hand. Faith flinched from his tight grip, but before she could say anything, a voice rang out that caused her own muscles to freeze.

“Slate Calhoun! It’s about time you showed up, you rowdy cowboy!”

With the loud bellow, the crowd stepped back, leaving a large empty space between them and the bar.

Faith’s gaze tracked along the cement floor and up the chrome legs of the bar stool to the brown scuffed cowboy boots that hung from either side of the lower rung. Up a pair of tight Wranglers to a large shiny belt buckle. Up a white blouse with a ruffled collar to a face framed by the brim of a black felt cowboy hat and miles of rich brown hair.

Pushing off the stool she straddled, she jumped down to the cement floor in one smooth fluid movement. She was petite, though her stance was mighty. She stood there with her hands on her hips as if waiting for something or someone. Then suddenly, she dropped her hands and strutted toward them like a woman on a mission. It didn’t take long to figure out what the mission was. Without hesitation, she flung herself at Slate, knocking both cowboy hats to the floor as she pressed her lips to his.

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