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Anything for a Cowboy
by Jenna Bayley-Burke
 
Copyright © 2017 by Jenna Bayley-Burke. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.

Chapter One

“You’re not divorced.”

Jacy Weston cringed as her best friend peered over her shoulder. She should have been finished long before now, but registering online dating profiles was a tedious task.

“Well, I’m not married. And I thought it would be harsh to kill off someone just so I could register for notmy1strodeo.com. I only have three options—divorced, widowed, or complicated.” She pushed her red hair behind her ears and tried to refocus.

Carly took a chair from the dining room and joined her at the antique secretary where the computer lived. “So choose complicated.”

“I think that means you’re sneaking around. I don’t want someone who’d go out with a married woman.” Jacy kept her eyes on the screen. With her profile complete, she could finish this mess and head back to work vaccinating the herd before her brothers wondered what she was up to.

“Catch me up. What the hell are you doing?” Carly pulled her dark locks over her shoulder and started braiding them.

“Signing up with the site Slade’s using. It’s designed for people who lead a country lifestyle. If I have to just have lunch with one more boring metrosexual who starts saying howdy and yeehaw as soon as I tell him I live on a ranch, I’ll start sedating them. So I’m trying to find a guy who understands that the actors in spaghetti westerns aren’t cowboys.”

She secured her thick braid with a band she’d been wearing around her wrist. “Slade said the site was worthless.”

“My brothers all have the attention spans of a fly on a horse’s ass. Besides, this site is less of a time suck for women because the guy does all the work. Or at least starts the conversation. He tips his hat, and it is up to you on how to respond. Wink, smile, or look away.”

“It tells the guys to look away? I can’t imagine your big brother taking that very well.”

“Who cares? This way I can be the one to weed out the creepers. I want to get my first time over with, but not enough to bend over for some loser.”

Carly held up a hand. “Whoa there, sister friend. Two things. People have sex differently than animals, and since when are you interested in giving up your V-card?”

Jacy turned to her best friend. “I know how people have sex. But I don’t want some big production. Just over and done with and no longer a topic of conversation that guys think is either a challenge or a code word for commitment. Virginity is something for the young. I mean, in this day and age, being a thirty-year-old virgin is ridiculous.”

“Or a sign of character and good upbringing.”

“More like overprotective brothers and a veterinary program that left me no time to sleep let alone date, and now an insane work schedule with the practice covering three counties and my responsibilities here at the ranch.” Jacy shook her head. “I should’ve listened to you and done it that spring break we went to Lake Havasu.”

“Yes, your first and only spring break. You studied the entire time.” Carly sighed. “Is this really just about your birthday?”

She shrugged. “It’s a milestone birthday. Think of it as the gift I’m giving myself.”

“That’s some seriously creative reasoning. Let me find you a few options. Your first time shouldn’t be with a stranger.”

“Oh, no, I’m not going to embarrass myself with someone I have to see again. Besides, you know my brothers have scared off every guy in our age group in this county and all the neighboring ones. I didn’t get asked for a date once in high school. Remember the way they ran off guys when we were in college? No one local, no one hoping to bag the Weston daughter to get themselves a job on the ranch. That’s why I filled out the profile as if I’m from Southern Oregon instead of here in Opal Creek.”

“You’ve put a lot of thought into this devirginizing plan of yours. I mean, you’ve divorced yourself and moved. Are you still a veterinarian? Did you change your name?”

She’d shortened her last name from Weston to West but didn’t care to own up to it. “I’m going to be me, just a few counties south. I want a moment to be something other than the good girl from Weston Ridge, you know?”

“Not really. I grew up in a trailer, remember? I can’t see being part of the Weston Ridge legacy as a problem. Or why you’d want to toss away your first time now. You’ve waited this long.”

“I should have experimented the way everyone else did. Now it makes me a freak.”

“That’s not what makes you a freak.” Carly smiled, her dark eyes twinkling. “Driving three hours south to bust a hustle does.”

“I don’t want it to be some big event. The first time is always awkward and horrible. Why not handle it now and move on with my life?”

“My first time was lovely.”

Jacy cleared her throat. Things had been awkward enough when Carly and Ace had been together, and two years post breakup, things still hadn’t returned to normal. “We’re not discussing my brother. Any of the four of them, not in this conversation. And you’re not to tell them, either.”

“Yeah, I’m sure Ace would love to not speak to me about your sex life. But I think this is a horrible idea. You’ve never even gone below the belt with a guy. You think you’re really going to be able to lie back and think of England with a stranger?”

Jacy logged out of the program and then stood to face her friend. “I don’t have a booty call waiting the way you do. Guys do not take a number for a chance at a make-out session with me. I have to do something.”

“If I’m your bad-girl mentor, then you’re never going to be able to pull this off. Hell, I couldn’t do it, and I exercise my flirt muscles at every opportunity. I mean, you’re going to meet this dude and get naked with him an hour later. And then what? Drive home?” Carly gave a shudder. “Unless you’re more like your brothers than I realized, casual-sex Fridays are not your thing.”

“I’m not planning on making this a thing. Just a one off.”

“Then let’s go out this weekend. We’ll hit Duke’s and let guys buy us drinks until you’re ready to be an orgasm donor.”

“I hate bars. And drunk dudes I’ve known since the sandbox do not appeal. I hate going to the meet market, which is why I shop for my arm candy online.”

“Right. It has nothing to do with being socially stunted because you prefer animals to people.”

“Case in point.”

“Ouch. I want it on record I think this is a bit over the top.”

“Noted. Now I’m going to get back to pissing off cattle.”

…

“Mama,” Ray called from the back door. He didn’t have time to be summoned to the house today. Or any day, really. He hung up his hat and then pulled off his boots before making his way to the kitchen.

Of course, she was right there, cutting his sandwich on the diagonal the way she’d always done. As if he came to the house for lunch on the regular. He ought to be at the bunkhouse with the crew, making sure they were ready to head out and repair the south fence.

Ray poured the lemonade on the table into the glasses she’d set out, then pulled out her chair. His mother carried the plates over and took the seat he offered. He joined her and tucked into his sandwich. The sooner he got back out on the ranch the better.

“Busy day?” She watched him eat until he felt under inspection.

“The south pasture fence needs mending, the farrier is due by three, and I promised Lad I’d get Chewbacca out of his way.”

“Did he pay the stud fee yet? Because if not, he can feed that bull until he settles up.”

“We worked something out.” He settled easier into his chair. If all she wanted to do was talk business, he’d be out the door before the hands finished with lunch.

“Ray, we cannot support half the county. The farrier doesn’t take payment in kind, and neither does our crew.”

“Mama, we’re having a good year. Lad had to take a loan to fix his barn. It’s the right thing to do. They’re good neighbors.”

She let out a long sigh. “Well, somebody raised you right.”

“Tragic, ain’t it?” He finished off his lemonade and poured himself more.

“It’s too bad you don’t have children of your own to raise.”

There it was. He picked up his dishes and marched into the kitchen. He’d suspected she was up to this again.

“You haven’t been on your September date. You promised.”

“You blackmailed me into that promise. You have two other sons to needle for grandchildren. Bother them.”

“They’re not ready. You will make someone an amazing husband.”

“Yeah, Kendra sure thought so.” Four years had passed and the failure still gnawed at him.

“Oh, let it go. The whining can’t last longer than the marriage. Besides, Kendra’s painfully stupid.”

“Says my mother. Who faked tears to get me to sign up for a dating website.”

“They were real.” She put on a pout worthy of the crocodile tears she’s shed at her last birthday.

“I don’t have time for this. Notmy1strodeo.com is nothing but a collection of women with baggage I don’t want to carry.”

“You promised one date a month for a year.”

“And after this year you promised to never mention dating to me again. If it’s going to happen, it’ll happen.”

“You spend all your time with cowboys, cattle, and horses. There’s no way to meet women in your life. I had to take action.”

He raised a brow, not wanting to tell his mother most of the dates the site brokered were nothing more than a call to action. Which he’d learned quickly not to answer unless he wanted to deal with a woman blowing up his phone for weeks afterward.

“Just tip your hat at your top three and be done with it. There’s still time to get a date for Saturday. And who knows, you might like her and have a second date next weekend for your October. Imagine that, Ray. A second date.”

His brothers really needed to man up and get girlfriends so their mom would get off his back. He’d tried marriage, failed spectacularly, and had no desire to repeat the mistake. But since his younger brothers were off playing rodeo cowboy and country songwriter, he knew the odds of either growing up anytime soon were long.

“I already logged you in and searched through the new members.”

“Mama, so help me, if you pretended to be me—”

“I don’t catfish. I’m just trying to save you some time.”

“How do you know what catfishing is?” He settled into the wooden chair in front of the kitchen desk where his mother made her office.

“I’m more current than you, cowboy. You don’t even have a television in your cabin.”

The screen showed his mother’s choices, three brunettes who looked too similar to his ex. He’d had a type but had learned five years ago it was the wrong one. He refreshed the options. A blonde equestrian standing beside her show horse. Too much work. Another brunette using the Confederate flag as a dress. Not going there. A fresh-faced redhead with an impish grin.

He clicked on the profile of the vet from one county over. Divorced, no kids. Hadn’t been married a year. Sounded like someone he knew all too well. He tipped his hat and logged off.

“Did you choose three?” His mother turned his way as he made his escape.

“It’s handled.”

“You made a date already?”

“Mama, you’ll get your September date if I have to go hang out at Trophy Room. I’m not spending another year like this one.”

“Me, either,” she muttered, returning to the dishes.