A Cowboy's Luck (The McGavin Brothers Book 8) Read online

  A Cowboy’s Luck

  The McGavin Brothers

  Vicki Lewis Thompson

  A COWBOY’S LUCK

  Copyright © 2018 by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  ISBN: 978-1-946759-37-5

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Ocean Dance Press, PO Box 69901, Oro Valley AZ 85737

  Cover art by Kristin Bryant

  Visit the author’s website: VickiLewisThompson.com

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  But Wait, There’s More!

  Also by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  The UPS driver standing outside the Guzzling Grizzly’s service door was new. “Package for Michael Murphy.”

  “That’s me.” He thanked the driver and took the light box into the office. “Bryce! T-shirts are here!”

  “Hot damn.” Bryce McGavin, co-owner of the GG, hurried in from the bar where he’d been prepping for the Friday lunch crowd. “Can’t wait to see what they look like.”

  “Me, either.” Michael opened the desk drawer and took out a box cutter. Then he paused and looked at Bryce. “You know what? I’d like Roxanne to be here when we open this. You okay with that?”

  “Sure. Without her we wouldn’t have a logo, let alone t-shirts.”

  “That was my thought.” Michael grabbed his phone from the desk and made the call. “Roxanne? T-shirts are here.” He grinned. “No, Bryce and I haven’t taken them out of the box. We’ll wait for you if you can get over here pronto.” He paused. “Great. I’ll unlock the front door.” He disconnected and put down the phone. “She’s on her way.”

  “I’ll text Nicole.” Bryce pulled his phone from his pocket. “She had two cut-and-color appointments this morning, so I doubt she’ll be able to come by until she takes a lunch break. She’ll want to know they’re here, though.”

  “Bet she will. I’ll get the front door.” Taking the key ring off a hook on the wall, Michael walked through the empty bar. The mouthwatering scent of Irish stew wafting from the kitchen made his stomach rumble. He took a quick detour and pushed open the swinging door. “Frank, shirts are here!”

  “Great!” Frank called from the walk-in cooler. “How do they look?”

  “Don’t know yet. Waiting for Roxanne before we open the box.”

  “Good call.”

  He unlocked the front door, which now had a stylized GG stenciled in black on the inside of the frosted glass insert. More of Roxanne’s graphic design handiwork. But the masterpiece that had inspired the t-shirt project was stenciled on the mirror behind the bar.

  While he waited for her to show up, he walked over to admire it for the umpteenth time. Two weeks ago, he’d talked Bryce into hiring Roxanne to design a GG logo and spruce up the website.

  The project had been more fun than a barrel of monkeys. Within twenty-four hours, Roxanne had come up with a grizzly resting on his haunches with a mug of beer in one paw. Underneath the bear was a Guzzling Grizzly banner. Merchandizing something that cute was a no-brainer, and the shirts were the first wave. If the five they’d ordered were good quality, they’d order more and sell them to customers, both at the bar and online.

  The front door opened and he turned.

  “I came over as fast as I could.” Roxanne walked in and closed the door behind her, blocking a chilly March breeze.

  Yet a flush of heat swept through him. “You made good time. Come on back to the office.” He motioned for her to go first. Gave him a chance to catch his breath.

  Roxanne Sawyer was a knockout, even dressed in raggedy jeans, an old sweatshirt and a faded denim jacket. Part of it was her height—she was at least five-ten—and part of it was her dramatic hair. She’d captured her mass of curly black locks into a ponytail, although ringlets were escaping everywhere.

  Clearly she’d jumped in her truck and driven over without bothering to put on makeup. She didn’t need it to look stunning. Her deep brown eyes, high cheekbones and full mouth were stare-worthy. He always did his best not to embarrass her by doing that.

  She’d lived in Eagles Nest for almost six months. Despite the town being small, he hadn’t run into her until she’d brought her dad to the GG for lunch a little more than two weeks ago, right before Valentine’s Day.

  He’d discovered then that she was a graphic designer who worked long hours in her apartment over Pie in the Sky Bakery. He’d wasted no time cornering Bryce and proposing a graphic design project for the bar.

  The concept was good for the GG, maybe even a game changer if this merchandising thing worked out. It also gave him the perfect opportunity to get to know Roxanne better. He loved it when his goals aligned.

  * * *

  Roxanne wanted to blame her crazy heartbeat on rushing over here. Except she’d driven instead of hotfooting it for six blocks, so that excuse didn’t wash. Might as well face it—Michael Murphy lit a fire under her every time she looked at him.

  Today he’d worn a moss green shirt that exactly matched his eyes. He wore green a lot, claiming it was an Irish thing. Maybe he was oblivious to how it drew attention to those amazing eyes.

  He might not realize how perfectly he fit the cowboy ideal dressed in jeans, boots, and a yoked shirt. Feasting her gaze on Michael was like walking into an art museum—so much beauty that she had trouble deciding where to focus her attention.

  Bryce was in the office texting on his phone. He glanced up. “Hey, Roxanne! That was fast.”

  “Couldn’t wait to see these t-shirts. Can Nicole slip over here for a few minutes?”

  “She’s too busy at the salon, but she can get here around twelve-thirty. I promised to text her a picture after we unpacked them. If they look good, she wants to wear them for our duet tonight.”

  “That’ll sell some shirts.” Roxanne hadn’t heard Bryce and Nicole perform yet, but they’d built an impressive reputation in only a few months.

  “Let’s end the suspense.” Michael handed her the box cutter.

  She sliced through the tape and tugged open the flaps before digging out the tissue-wrapped shirts. Tossing each of the guys a package, she unwrapped a man’s crew neck. They’d ordered one for Michael and one for Bryce.

  She shook it out. “I like it. Material feels good and the white logo looks really good against the black.”

  “Nicole’s gonna love this.” Bryce held up one of the women’s shirts with cap sleeves. Then he laid it across the desk and snapped a picture.

  “She’ll look great in it.” Michael checked the label on the one he had. “Here’s a woman’s small.”

  “That’s
for your new bartender,” Roxanne said. “Tansy ordered small and Nicole and I ordered medium. This can be yours.” She handed over the one she had, took out the other two shirts and started unwrapping them.

  “Let’s see how it fits.”

  Roxanne’s head came up as snaps popped. Surely he wasn’t…oh, yes, he was! He stripped off his shirt and flung it across the back of the desk chair. She almost swallowed her tongue.

  Pecs bulging…flexing…sweet heaven! Time slowed as he reached for the t-shirt and pulled it over his head. Then he shoved his arms into the sleeves one at a time. Abs tightening…shirt descending… covering…no! She prayed she hadn’t protested out loud.

  “What do you guys think?” His grin wasn’t the least self-conscious. Evidently he had no clue he’d just fried her circuits. “Does it work?”

  Bryce looked up from his phone where he’d been texting with Nicole. “Fits great, buddy. Just don’t wash it in hot water.”

  “Exactly.” She licked dry lips and coaxed words from tight vocal cords. “You can’t afford to have it shrink.” Lest your female customers spontaneously combust. They might, anyway.

  The logo had looked good on her computer screen, even better on the antique mirror behind the bar, and striking against the black cotton t-shirt material. But it had never enjoyed a more eye-popping venue than the muscled chest of Michael Murphy.

  “You should try yours, Roxanne.” Michael gestured toward the shirts she clutched in each hand like lifelines.

  “Good idea,” Bryce said. “Then I can send a picture of you wearing it so Nicole can see how it looks on.”

  “Um, sure.” She checked both shirts and gave Bryce his. “I’ll just duck into the restroom.” Excellent. She could splash cold water on her face. She really needed someone to turn a hose on her, but that wasn’t practical right now.

  In the privacy of the women’s bathroom, she peered at herself in the mirror. She didn’t look as wide-eyed as she’d expected. The guys hadn’t seemed to notice that she’d temporarily lost her cool. Bryce had been focused on his texting and Michael had been preoccupied with trying on his new shirt.

  Judging from his nonchalant attitude, he hadn’t meant to be provocative. He’d wanted to see how the shirt fit and so he’d spontaneously put it on. No big deal to him.

  Big deal to her. She would never forget that brief glimpse of his naked chest. If the top half of him looked that good, then the rest of him would likely…settle down, girl.

  Dragging in a deep breath, she took off her jacket and her sweatshirt before pulling the tee over her head. The soft cotton felt like good quality. She’d know for sure after washing it, but the shirt fit well, not too snug and not too loose. Long enough to reach her hips.

  She folded her sweatshirt and carried it and her jacket back to the office. Bryce had put on his t-shirt and both men had donned their black cowboy hats. “Awesome, guys. Women will be lining up at the bar.”

  They both blushed a little. Cute.

  Michael smiled at her. “You look great, too.”

  “Yeah, you do,” Bryce said. “Put down your stuff so I can get a picture for Nicole.”

  She laid her sweatshirt and jacket on the desk and moved back so he could take a couple of shots.

  “Don’t move yet.” Michael stepped in and snapped a few with his phone. “We need to commemorate the beginning of our merchandising campaign.” He looked at his screen and nodded. “Nice.”

  Her cheeks warmed. “Thanks.” Now he had a picture of her on his phone. Sort of intimate. Sort of lovely.

  She wanted one of him, but snapping one right now would make her interest in him too obvious. “You know what? We should get one of you two.” She dug her phone out of her jacket pocket. “Let’s go into the bar and use that as a backdrop.”

  “Hang on,” Bryce said. “Let me send this one to Nicole.”

  Michael glanced at her. “Are you thinking website pics?”

  “I am.” And screensaver for her desktop.

  “Me, too. Much better to show them on somebody. Same with the women’s style.”

  “Right, but you need Nicole and Tansy for that. This will just get you started.”

  “Nicole loves the shirt.” Bryce smiled. “She’s dying to come over here but she’s swamped.” He looked up. “Okay, let’s go flip on the lights and take some location shots. Might as well have some stored on mine, too.” He handed over his phone.

  “Mine, too.” Michael gave her his.

  She led the way into the bar and then played paparazzi, switching phones and angles while the guys hammed it up in front of the antique bar.

  “That’s enough,” Bryce said. “Customers will be at the door any minute. Just let me get one of you and Michael real quick.”

  “Okay.” She laid down all three phones on one of the tables and walked over to stand beside Michael. Shivered a little. The empty bar was chilly. Yeah, that was it.

  Bryce laughed. “Not like that, like you’re in front of a firing squad. Put your arms around each other’s waists and smile. Who knows, we might want to put some of these on the website, too.”

  “All righty.” Michael slipped his arm around her.

  Instant sizzle. Breathe. Sucking down air, she put her arm around his waist. Warm. Solid. He drew her close, hip-to-hip, and her pulse ratcheted into high gear.

  “That’s better,” Bryce said. “Great smiles.”

  She hadn’t smiled on purpose. Evidently being this close to Michael brought out her happy face. And made her tingle all over, some places more than others.

  “That should do it,” Bryce said.

  Roxanne stepped away from the delicious close contact with Michael and retrieved her phone. Her body still hummed but she did her best to sound casual. “This has been fun.”

  “It has.” Michael tucked his phone in his pocket.

  “No question.” Bryce glanced at his phone. “Nicole wants me to take off the shirt so it’ll be fresh for tonight. Guess she’s already decided we’ll perform in them. Anyway, I need to check something in the kitchen first. Thanks again, Roxanne. The shirts are amazing.”

  “You’re so welcome.” After he left, she looked at Michael. “I need to get my stuff and vamoose. Work calls and all that.”

  “I’m sure. Thanks for taking the time this morning.”

  “Of course. Wouldn’t have missed it.”

  He hesitated. “I think we need to celebrate. I get off at five, so would you like to have dinner?”

  “Dinner?” Although she wasn’t moving, inside she was dancing.

  “If you can spare the time. I know you have a tight work schedule and I—”

  “I’d love to have dinner.”

  He flashed her a smile. “Great. We could drive to Bozeman for someplace fancy, but considering what we’re celebrating, I vote for staying here.”

  “So do I.” Her voice quivered the tiniest bit. Not bad considering the party going on inside. “That’s appropriate.”

  “And we’ll get to see how everyone reacts to the shirts. I’ll save mine for tonight, too.”

  “Should I wear mine, then?”

  His green gaze warmed. “Absolutely. I’ll pick you up at six.”

  Seven hours from now. Would that give her time to calm the heck down? Probably not. She had a date with Michael Murphy. She had every reason to be flying high.

  Chapter Two

  Showered, shaved, and excited as a sixteen-year-old on his first date, Michael drove toward Pie in the Sky. The F150’s heater blasted hot air. The cab should be warm by the time he picked up Roxanne.

  When he’d asked her out, he hadn’t been at all sure she’d accept. She was dedicated to her work and he admired that. If she’d turned him down because of a pressing deadline, he would have understood.

  He would have asked her again sometime, but celebrating the launch of the merchandizing campaign had been a golden opportunity. Those didn’t come along every day. She’d said yes, though. He couldn’t remem
ber the last time he’d looked forward to an evening with a woman with this much anticipation.

  He’d cleaned the windshield and spent ten minutes on the seats and floor with a battery-operated vacuum, but there was no help for the outside. Washing a vehicle during a Montana winter was a waste of time unless it lived in a cozy garage. Michael’s ride did not.

  He found plenty of parking spaces in front of the bakery because it closed at four. Security lights glowed inside, and dusk-to-dawn lamps outside lit up a new scene painted on the front window involving elves, shamrocks, a rainbow and a pot of gold.

  Roxanne’s work. The holiday-themed window painting had started with Halloween, and he’d never thought to ask Abigail, the owner, who was doing them. Just that one question might have changed things. At least he would have been aware that Roxanne existed and lived in one of the apartments above the bakery.

  Leaving the truck running, he climbed out and walked to a door to the right of Pie in the Sky. He rang the bell, and soon footsteps descended the stairs.

  She opened the door. “Hi.”

  “Wow.” He hadn’t meant to sound that uncool, but she looked…different. Dazzling in a way he hadn’t seen before.

  She slipped outside and turned to lock the door. “I didn’t mean to startle you. But this is an occasion, so I—”

  “I like it. I’ve just never seen you so sparkly.”

  “It’s the earrings.” She glanced at him over her shoulder. “Normally I wear small ones or none at all.” She turned back to him and tucked the keys in her purse. “But these rhinestone hoops seemed celebratory. I kind of like them with jeans and a t-shirt. It’s a fun combo.”