Beauty and the Cowboy Read online

  He wasn’t going to let that kiss ruin a relationship that spanned a lifetime. He’d figure it out and do whatever he had to do to make it right. Even if that meant giving her some space to figure out her own head and heart.

  But right now, he needed to wake her up and get her home.

  He gave her shoulder a gentle shake. “Charlie?”

  She breathed in a long, soft breath, but she didn’t open her eyes.

  He gave her shoulder another shake. “Charlie, wake up. I need to take you home.”

  All she did was snuggle a little deeper into the couch. She was out cold, and unless he picked her up and carried her out to his truck, she wasn’t going anywhere.

  Jesse got a blanket from the hall linen closet and covered her up. Since Mattie was gone for the night, there was no harm in letting Charlie sleep on the couch.

  He went into the kitchen and filled a glass with water and took a bottle of aspirin out of the cabinet where he kept the meds and vitamins. If she woke up in the middle of the night, she might need them.

  After he set the glass and bottle on the coffee table, he had to ball his hands into fists to keep from reaching out and touching her smooth cheek. He’d learned his lesson. He might be a lot of things, but he wasn’t an idiot.

  That jackass fool Tom Tucker was an idiot for letting her go.

  “If you were mine, Charlie, I would’ve already married you.”

  Chapter 4

  Charlotte awoke in a dark room, on the couch in a strange house. She had a dry mouth and a crick in her neck. When she rubbed it, she realized that, no, the pain wasn’t just in her neck. Her head felt like someone had taken a sledgehammer to it. Sitting up, she blinked and forced her eyes to adjust as she looked around, trying to figure out where in the world she was.

  A sliver of moonlight streamed in through the living room window. It took a minute, but she remembered that she was at Jesse’s house. He’d brought her here after she’d had too much to drink at Grey’s. He’d cooked for her…and she’d kissed him.

  She pulled the cotton blanket up to her chin, as if that would preserve her modesty. But then she realized she was fully clothed, and even if she climbed under a stack of blankets, it wouldn’t restore her dignity.

  The day’s unfortunate happenings flooded back to her. Tom’s phone call; Mardie Griffin overhearing her conversation with Jesse and giving her the look; people seeing her and Jesse leaving Grey’s together after she’d downed whiskey and wine. Now she was going to do the walk of shame from Jesse’s house, and they hadn’t even done anything.

  Except kiss.

  That kiss had curled her toes and made her lady parts sing. And then Jesse had walked away.

  Of course he had. She’d been drunk. What kind of guy would sleep with a drunk woman?

  Better question: What kind of guy wouldn’t?

  She might have been inclined to think Jesse just wasn’t into her, but that kiss had cut through the whiskey and wine and the heartbreak of the day and told her otherwise.

  Right now, her head hurt too much to overthink it. Especially the part about how she’d actually gone for the goods. She’d had his belt unbuckled, and who knows what would’ve happened next if not for Lulu?

  Feeling a little sick, she found her purse next to the couch, where she’d dropped it on her way in.

  As she fished her phone out, she noted it was two fifty a.m. There were no missed calls from Tom.

  It would be a clean break.

  It was better that way.

  She sat there waiting to feel something beyond confusion. Shouldn’t there have been a ripping sensation or pain from his rude means of severing six years together?

  Nope. She was just…numb.

  Numb and confused.

  She started to put her phone back in her purse, and its light reflected off something on the coffee table—a glass of water and a bottle of aspirin.

  Jesse had left them for her.

  Her heart gave a little squeeze. When she remembered the way she’d thrown herself at him, her heart became a little heavier. How was it that she was more upset that kissing Jesse might’ve ruined things with him than over the way things had turned out with Tom?

  She shook two aspirin into her hand and downed them with a gulp of water. She was so parched, she felt as if she’d been without water for days. She sat there in the dark considering what to do next as she drank the rest of it.

  If anyone saw Jesse dropping her off in the wee hours of the morning, tongues were bound to wag, especially once word got around that she and Tom were through.

  She really shouldn’t care what anyone else thought, but she did. Because if word got out, it was bound to make it back to her father and even at twenty-five, she still cared what her dad thought.

  The way she saw it, she had three choices: She could wake Jesse up, she could wait until he woke up, or she could walk home.

  Or, of course, she could find his keys and drive herself home. Right. With her luck, she’d get pulled over by Toby Walton, Marietta’s finest, and hauled in for DUI.

  How long did it take for alcohol to get out of your system, anyway?

  It didn’t really matter, because she wasn’t going to take Jesse’s wheels without asking. Besides, the rumor mill would churn out of control if Jesse Guthrie’s truck was seen parked near her apartment in the wee hours of the morning after they’d been spotted leaving Grey’s together.

  No matter how she looked at it, she was screwed.

  She sighed at the irony.

  “What a mess,” she murmured as she hauled herself off the couch, feeling as chaste as a born-again virgin. Maybe if she splashed some cool water on her face, she’d be able to think straight.

  She stood in the hallway she assumed led to the bathroom. It probably led to Jesse’s bedroom, too. The house was nice—cute—but it wasn’t very big. Two…maybe three bedrooms? After all, it was just him and Mattie.

  It dawned on her that she didn’t know how many bedrooms and bathrooms because this was the first time she’d been to his place. He and his brothers had sold the Guthrie ranch shortly after their parents had died. Sometime after that and his accident on the circuit, Jesse had bought this place for himself and his sister.

  The light of a full moon shone in from a skylight in the hall. It illuminated framed photos that hung in the hallway. Her eyes had adjusted to the sparse light well enough for her to identify the people in the pictures.

  The first one looked like it must’ve been Mattie’s most recent school picture. The girl was so grown-up now. The next one was a picture of Jesse with Jude, Jake, John and Jackson. It must’ve been taken before Mattie was born, because they all looked so young. Probably middle school or early high school. Didn’t seem like it had been that long ago, but it was.

  The next photo, right next to the bathroom door, was a family portrait. Mr. and Mrs. Guthrie were surrounded by their six children. They looked so proud. Suddenly, Charlotte felt ashamed lurking there in their son’s darkened hallway, still a little tipsy in her rumpled work clothes. If they could have seen her now, they certainly wouldn’t have approved.

  With that thought, Charlotte ducked into the bathroom—or at least she thought it was the bathroom—the room was a little darker than the hall, and the light from the skylight didn’t reach in there.

  One step, and she realized she was in the wrong place. She tried to squint into the pitch dark to see if it was Jesse’s room or Mattie’s. There must’ve been blackout drapes, because the room was unforgivingly dark.

  “Charlie, what are you doing?” Jesse’s voice sounded husky.

  “I’m sorry to wake you, but I need to go home.”

  He threw off the covers, turned on the lamp on the bedside table and sat on the side of the bed. He was bare-chested, but wore dark blue pajama bottoms. He was tanned and sleepy, his golden-brown hair mussed in a sexy way that made her lose her breath for a beat…or two. Fiery attraction exploded inside her, but she quickly extinguished
it, chalking it up to the aftereffects of the alcohol.

  “You can sleep in Mattie’s bed.”

  “No.” She said the word a little too fast.

  “She won’t mind.”

  “Would you really tell your little sister that you and I had a sleepover while she was at her friend’s for the night?”

  Jesse made a noise that sounded like the idea wasn’t completely out of the question.

  “Jesse, I’m so sorry to drag you out in the middle of the night, but you know what’s going to happen if people see you bringing me home in the morning with me wearing the same clothes I wore to work yesterday.”

  “Why do you care so much about what people think?”

  “Because all it takes is a couple of nasty rumors to plant and spread, especially in a small town, for bad things to happen.”

  He looked at her as if she’d asked him to dance on the nightstand.

  “What kind of bad things?”

  “What people say affects my family—my father and sister. I can’t let that happen. What would my dad say if people told him they’d seen me leaving your place at sunrise? Plus, my head hurts and I need a shower.”

  “Fair enough. Let me get dressed, and we’ll go.”

  When he stood, her gaze fell over his bare, muscular shoulders and followed the line that tapered into his slim waist. Low-slung pj bottoms covered the region that Charlotte had tried in vain to get her hands on.

  For the second time that evening, parts of her she’d nearly forgotten existed hummed to life.

  No. This was not happening. Not again.

  Her face flamed, and she took a step back.

  “I’ll meet you in the living room,” she said. “So you can get dressed.”

  “That’s probably a good idea.”

  As she put some distance between them, she thought, Jane was wrong. That’s not just one fine, sexy ass. That’s one hell of a fine man.

  *

  Charlotte hadn’t intended to hide out all weekend. It just happened that way. She’d slept in on Saturday, trying to get over that sledgehammer headache. Then she’d called her dad to tell him the news about Tom before the rumor mill could churn its way to him.

  First, she called the home phone, but no one answered. She got him on his cell. She was relieved to hear he was over at the cattle auction in Billings. She’d gotten to him first.

  True to fashion, he was a man of few words after she told him that Tom was married.

  “You okay?”

  “I am. I’m surprisingly fine. Don’t you worry about me.”

  “I can come home if you need me.”

  “It’s sweet of you to offer, but, really, I’m fine. I just wanted you to hear the news from me.”

  “Yep.”

  She could hear the disappointment in his voice. Though it was a ridiculous thought, she couldn’t help but wonder if some of it was because Tom would not be part of their family. After all, he’d been pretty proud that Tom Tucker, golden boy of Marietta, Montana, had chosen his daughter. From the way he talked, her winning Tom had been better than any pageant title she could’ve snagged.

  Her dad just needed time to digest everything. A lot of things were uncertain, but the one thing that she was sure of was that her father loved her unconditionally.

  Still, she thought after they’d said goodbye, she hated disappointing him.

  It was a good distraction when Jane, the good friend she was, dropped off a mend-the-broken-heart care package containing pints of Ben & Jerry’s Chocolate Therapy and Chocolate Peppermint Crunch ice cream; three tabloid magazines; DVDs of Gone With the Wind and Breakfast at Tiffany’s; a dart board with a picture of Tom’s face on it; and more chocolate for good measure.

  So, word was beginning to get around. Jane had heard it through Emmaline Akers, owner of the Copper Mountain Courier, who’d heard it from Taylor Harris, who worked over at the library, who’d heard it from Mardie Griffin, the waitress at Grey’s Saloon.

  Yep. It was all over town. Charlotte wasn’t in the mood to venture out and endure the looks of pity and inevitable questions. Instead, she decided to turn the ringer off on her phone, baked her famous Chocolate Blackout Cake, and ate it right from the pan with the ice cream Jane had brought her while she watched both movies twice.

  By Sunday afternoon, Charlotte had just about worked herself into a sugar coma. Then she’d gotten the text from Mattie.

  You’re still coming over, right?! Super excited!!!

  At least Mattie hadn’t mentioned Tom. But, oh, she did not want to leave the safety of her cocoon. She contemplated texting Mattie that she couldn’t make it, but the girl was obviously looking forward to getting together. The four exclamation points she’d used in the seven-word text had tipped her hand.

  Charlotte supposed she had to face the world and its curiosity sometime. Better to take the plunge today than tomorrow at work.

  After she showered and dressed, she found herself standing on Jesse’s doorstep, thinking if she hadn’t promised him she’d do this, she wouldn’t be here. But Jesse had taken care of her. He’d fixed her eggs and left her aspirin and had driven her home in the middle of the night. Granted, the ride home had been mostly silent except for the part when they’d gotten to her apartment and he’d argued about seeing her safely to her door.

  He’d won.

  God, it had been awkward. But once the door had been unlocked, Jesse had simply said good night and turned and walked away.

  She hadn’t heard from him since. She was still trying to convince herself that was a good thing, despite the hollow feeling in her chest.

  His house looked different in the light of day. It felt strange to think she was here to see Mattie, not him. But there was that part of her that hoped he wouldn’t be here, despite the dip of disappointment when she didn’t see his truck in the driveway.

  As she raised her hand to knock, she decided if he was here, she would just act as if nothing had changed. She wouldn’t think about how she regretted that he hadn’t taken advantage of her more than she regretted getting Tom’s call.

  Before Charlotte’s knuckles could meet the wood, Mattie threw open the door.

  “You’re here! I’m so excited you’re here. Come in. Jesse said you’d help me put together the perfect wardrobe for the pageant. I turned in my application yesterday. I put it in the mail slot on the Chamber of Commerce door because no one was working yesterday. I hope I got it there on time.”

  “Whoa. Take a breath, Mattie,” Charlotte said, glancing at the kitchen where Jesse had cooked for her, at the couch where she’d fallen asleep, at the living room where they’d kissed. “You’re good. We’ll process all the applications tomorrow.”

  No signs of Jesse.

  With a twinge of disappointment, Charlotte tried not to wonder where he was and whether he’d purposely planned to be scarce this afternoon.

  “Good,” Mattie said. “I was worried. But I cleaned up my room for you, ’cause you’ve never been here.”

  If Jesse hadn’t mentioned he’d brought her there, she wasn’t going to touch that one. It would lead to too many questions she couldn’t answer.

  “Thanks for doing that. Lead the way to your room, and we’ll get started.”

  She followed Mattie down the same hall that just the other night had been illuminated by moonlight. Today, the late summer afternoon sun poured in through the skylight, giving Charlotte a better look at the pictures that had been cloaked in shadows before—Jesse and his brothers, the family portrait. Once, she’d been as close to his family as she’d been to her own. Yep, Mr. and Mrs. Guthrie were definitely looking disappointed in her.

  She bit her bottom lip so hard she tasted blood.

  “Hey, Charlie, in here.” Mattie waved from the door that was at the farthest end of the hallway.

  “I was just looking at the pictures. That’s a good one of you. Is that your school portrait?”

  Mattie rolled her eyes. “Yes, and I hate it. I look lik
e such a child.”

  Charlotte was tempted to say, You are a child. But she knew better. “Well, you have grown up a lot since then. That’s why I think you’re going to have a lot of fun doing this pageant.”

  That’s when she noticed the explosion of orange clothes on the girl’s bed.

  “I want to wear orange. I want it to be my signature color. So I brought out every piece of orange clothing I have, which isn’t a lot. I only have, like, two things, but I’ve borrowed some things from my friends, and if you could lend me anything you have that’s orange, I think I might be able to make it work. Gina has an orange dress that might be good for my personality outfit. What do you think?”

  The girl held it up and struck a pose.

  Ohh. Boy. This was a dilemma. With the girl’s golden-blond hair and blue eyes, the color made her look sallow. Really, she couldn’t have picked a worse color for herself, other than maybe chartreuse.

  “Why do you want to wear orange?”

  “Because it’s my favorite color.”

  “Yet, most of your own clothes are other colors. You said had to borrow most of these.”

  Charlotte went over to Mattie’s closet and surveyed the contents. It was full of pinks, yellow and blues. Bingo. Great colors for her.

  “Why not something like this, Mattalyn?”

  Charlotte held out a pretty, blue, flowered dress.

  “Noo. I have to wear orange.”

  “You don’t have to wear it. Can I be honest with you?”

  Mattie nodded warily, her brows knitted.

  “It’s not your best color. Orange is really hard to wear unless you have a certain coloring. If you want to look your very best, I think you should stick with blues and maybe some pink. You don’t have to stay with one color.”

  The girl shook her head. She looked panic-stricken. Something else was going on here.

  Charlotte hung the blue dress back in the closet, pushed aside the pile of clothing and sat on the edge of Mattie’s bed. “You asked me to come over and help you. If I’m going to do that, you have to be open and honest with me about what you’re thinking and why you have certain things in mind…like all this orange. Because I can’t help you otherwise.”