Wrangling the Cowboy Page 10

  When I turn my head, our eyes meet, and she freezes in place. She’s carrying bags, and I’m sure she’s bringing Kiera and Jackson breakfast. Sometimes she does that when they’re not as busy at the B&B. Wiping the sweat off my brow, I keep my eyes on Demon. As he does laps, she moves closer and hangs on the gate.

  “Hey,” she coos, her voice soft and sweet.

  “Hi.” I don’t stop my training session even though I want to do nothing but pay attention to her right now. Not sure what it is about Maize Bishop, but the chemistry we share and the way she makes me feel are different from all the other women I’ve ever been with. She’s not the type you have a one-night stand with and forget, but rather the kind of lady you bring home to meet your mama.

  “What’re ya doin’ for lunch?” she asks.

  “No plans,” I say with a half-grin.

  “Why don’t you come down to the B&B and eat? I know this sounds silly, but you lived rodeo life for a long while, and I’d like your opinion on something.”

  I lower my arms, and instantly, Demon stops trotting and stands twenty yards away and stares at me. Bringing my gaze to her, I walk closer. “About what?”

  “I cooked the brisket I’m entering into the contest and want you to try it since you’ve been all over the state. Barbecue is a whole food group in Texas, and I know you’ve probably eaten truckloads of it.” She hesitates. “I just don’t want to go embarrassing myself. The only thing is, you’ll have to promise to be truthful no matter what.”

  I study her lips, then meet her soft eyes. Something about Maize drives me absolutely fucking crazy, and right now, all I want to do is swipe my lips against hers until we’re both breathless.

  “So, what do you say?” she finally asks.

  “Sure. I’ll be there, but you owe me one,” I tell her with a wink.

  She chuckles, a sound I don’t get to hear too often. “Add it to my tab. See you at eleven.”

  Once Maize is out of sight, I go back to Demon, and we try saddle training next. When I look down at my phone, I realize it’s nearly time to meet Maize. Quickly, I finish up, then I pop my head into the office and let Jackson know I’m going to the B&B for lunch in case he comes lookin’ for me.

  On the way over, I can’t stop smiling because this is a step in the right direction. Though Maize and I have played tug-of-war for months, her reaching out for my help feels like progress. She’s smart to ask me because I have eaten a lot of barbecue over the years. It’s a staple at every damn rodeo I’ve ever been to.

  I pull up to the B&B and park. Though it’s only the end of April, it’s already hot as hell. Can’t even imagine how summer’s gonna be, but I’m not looking forward to it because I’ll be working outside. When I enter, I immediately smell the smoky meat wafting through the whole place. My mouth begins to water, and my stomach growls.

  As soon as I sit at a table in the corner, Maize steps into view and looks around the room. When she spots me, she smiles, then holds up her index finger and walks away. I get up and pour myself some sweet tea, and when I return to my seat, I notice she’s carrying a tray full of food toward me.

  “Whoa,” I say with a grin when she sets it down.

  The laughter that releases from her sounds so sweet. Maize hands me a set of silverware and sits in front of me. Before I take a bite, I notice she’s fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. She’s so nervous about me eating, not something I’ve witnessed since being here. I push the fork into the meat and watch the juices run from it. It’s tender as can be as I eat it. The taste isn’t like anything I’ve had before, and I swear it’s the best damn barbecue I’ve ever had.

  I grab the dinner roll and dip it in the barbecue sauce, take a few bites of smoked sausage, and finish off the brisket like I haven’t eaten in a decade. Maize’s cheeks turn pink as she bites her bottom lip. “Okay, so what do you think?”

  With the rest of the bread, I wipe it across the plate until it’s perfectly clean. “Do you have more?”

  “You’re just saying that,” she chides, crossing her arms.

  I place my hand over hers and lean forward, lowering my voice so no prying ears can hear. “You’re gonna win this, sweetheart. It’s the best I’ve ever had. Cross my heart.”

  Her smile grows wider. “Really?”

  “I wouldn’t lie. The texture. The flavor. It’s not dry at all like some briskets are. And the sauce, holy shit, woman. I’m tempted to get down on one knee and ask you to marry me right here, right now.”

  She pulls her hand away, and I realize I crossed the line, but I don’t care. It’s the damn truth.

  “So, about those seconds…?” I linger, not just referring to her food.

  Standing and scooting in her chair, she grabs the tray, leaving my tea, then walks away. I almost thought she was pranking me until she returns with a heaping pile full of her soon-to-be award-winning barbecue. “I gotta go help my employees, so I’ll be right back. Okay?”

  I give her a nod and dig in. It’s so delicious I eat every morsel, not wasting a crumb. About an hour passes before she comes back.

  “There’s no way you ate all that,” she says, her eyes wide.

  I lean back and suck in a deep breath. I might’ve gone overboard, but it was too good to pass up. “I did, and now I’m full as hell and have no idea how I’m going to work for the rest of the day. I can already feel the food coma coming. It was so good, and if I had any room, I’d eat more.” I throw her a wink.

  “You’re not shitting me, right?” she asks again.

  “Never. You’ll win, hands down. I’d even bet on it.” I hold out my hand, hoping she shakes, but she doesn’t do anything but smile wide.

  “Thank you,” she whispers. “Means a lot to me. I’m just nervous about all this.”

  “Shouldn’t be. You’re a pro, Maze. That prize is yours,” I stress, wishing she’d believe me. I look around and notice the B&B is empty. It’s just her and me. The place is a mess, so I stand and help her pick up the remaining dishes left on the tables. We grab as much as we can so we don’t have to make another trip, and I follow her to the kitchen area.

  Maize sets the dishes in the sink and then steps slightly out of the way to give me more room to add what I’m carrying. Our arms touch, and electricity shoots through me. She must’ve felt it too because I notice goose bumps form on her arms. Though she denies anything between us, moments like this remind me there is something. Nothing she could say would make me think otherwise because her body gives her away every single time.

  “Maze,” I whisper, watching her breasts rise and fall. I place my palm on her warm cheek and brush my thumb against her skin. She swallows, and I’m tempted to kiss her, but I don’t want to press my luck when I’m gaining ground.

  My phone rings, and I glance down to see it’s Jackson. I’m sure he’s wondering where the hell I ran off to because I’ve been gone for a while. “I don’t want to go, but I have to,” I admit.

  “I know,” she whispers.

  I look down and reject the call, not ready to go just yet, but knowing I have to.

  “Do you want a hand?” I ask.

  She tilts her head. “Not unless you want Uncle Jackson bursting through those doors and dragging your ass back to the training facility. You’ve helped me more than enough already.”

  Leaning over, I place a soft kiss on her head, then turn away just as her employees are walking through the door with baskets of veggies from the garden.

  “See you later,” I say, then leave. I sent her flowers on Valentine's Day, and the note I left wasn’t a joke. I would make it worth her while if she’d let me.

  When I get in the truck, I call and let Jackson know I’m on the way. Apparently, a mare’s being delivered this afternoon. It slipped my mind that I needed to check her in, but I got to the barn in record time.

  Jackson pulls hay down from the loft, and I grab a few bales and help distribute it to each stall. It’s a revolving door with training now that three of us
are doing it. Kiera and Jackson have been happy with how much we’ve grown the facility, and the word has traveled fast. We’re booked nearly two years in advance, and the waitlist is a mile long too. Wouldn’t be surprised if they hire a few more people to keep up with the demand.

  Before long, a truck with a gooseneck horse trailer comes traveling down the rock drive. A man parks and pops out of the cab and walks over to me. “You Gavin?”

  “Yes, sir,” I tell him.

  He nods. “I’m Billy Gibson. Own the ranch a ways down. Ready to unload her?”

  “Sure am. And very nice to meet you.”

  Billy goes to the back and lifts the bar to the trailer gate. The mare instantly starts throwing her hoof out, ready to kick one of us. She’s pissed.

  “We call her Angel,” he tells me with a thick Southern accent.

  I chuckle. “Sarcasm, I assume?”

  “Absolutely, son.”

  “Perfect, I’ve got one named Demon right now. They’ll probably get along just fine.”

  Just as I’m assisting Billy, I see Grayson and Diesel pull up in the old beat-up Ford. They go inside the office, and I do a walk around of the horse. We like to make a note of any injuries before accepting them. I lift her hooves, and she’s not having it, but thankfully, she’s not too big or hard to handle yet.

  “Whatever you do, don’t walk behind her,” he warns and pulls me back.

  “Thanks,” I tell him.

  “She might’ve kicked your balls right off. It’s one of her bad habits,” he explains. “Her only goal is to take out anyone or anything that gets behind her flank. My dog learned his lesson real quick.”

  I nod and check the other side. “Noted. Well, she looks good.”

  “Y’all gonna earn your money with this one,” he says, patting her.

  It makes me chuckle. I’ve yet to meet a horse that was easy to break. “You’ll just need to sign some paperwork inside, and then you’ll be all set,” I explain and point toward the office. He gives me a head nod and goes that way.

  As Angel is tied to a post, I take a step back, crossing my arms and looking at her. She’s a beautiful gray leopard appaloosa with a black mane and white socks. Holding my hand out, I allow her to make the first move and sniff me. Once Angel seems calmer, I lead her to her stall. By the time she’s settled in the barn, I walk to the front, and the owner is long gone.

  Diesel and Grayson step out of the office, ragging on each other.

  “If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t even be at work this morning,” he tells Diesel.

  “And that’s why you’re my right-hand man,” Diesel explains. “You keep me in check.”

  Grayson rolls his eyes and grins. “There’s Casanova.”

  “What?” I chuckle.

  “I heard Maize got roses on Valentine’s, and I’ve been meaning to ask you if you sent them,” Diesel says.

  I tilt my head at them because there’s no damn way either would know ’cause Maize’s sealed like a vault. “I’m not the type of man who kisses and tells, boys. So, you need to go on with all that rumor mill shit.”

  “You’re no fun,” Diesel whines.

  “I’m plenty of fun, or at least that’s what the ladies say.” I shrug and laugh.

  “The rodeo’s next week, right?” Grayson lifts his cowboy hat and smooths his sweat-covered hair down before setting it back on his head.

  I nod, answering him with Maize on my mind. I wonder if we’ll ever be anything more, and chasing women isn’t in my forte. Feeling the constant hot and cold from her is a new experience for me, and I’m not sure I like it. Though I do enjoy the chase of it all.

  “How’s Cooper doing? Nervous yet?” Diesel asks.

  “Actually, he’s doing really well. Wouldn’t be surprised if he placed. I know the competition won’t be easy, though. As long as he stays on his A game and gets out of his damn head, he’ll make it happen,” I explain. “We’re actually meeting tonight to continue our lessons. Most of it’s mental, but a large portion is physical too. You ever thought about riding?”

  Diesel’s a big guy with lots of muscle, and with the right training, he could probably go far.

  He snorts. “Hell no!”

  “Big D here’s too much of a pussy,” Grayson snaps with a chuckle. “He nearly cried when he saw a spider in the truck last week.”

  I burst out laughing.

  “I did not!” Diesel scowls and takes off running after Grayson, who’s way too fast for him. I remember being pretty much the same at their age.

  Diesel bends over and picks up a rock and throws it at Grayson. It nails him right in the back of his head. Wanting to retaliate, Grayson starts throwing them back.

  “What in the fuck are you two doin’?” Jackson yells.

  I cross my arms and watch them chase each other like kids.

  “Nothing!” Diesel says, finally dropping his ammunition.

  Jackson looks at me and shakes his head. In that split second, Grayson nails Diesel in the forehead.

  “What the hell!” Diesel screams and starts the chase again.

  Jackson claps his hands to get their attention, but they’re lost. Seconds later, he puts two fingers in his mouth and lets out the loudest ear-piercing whistle I’ve ever heard. They both stop moving.

  “Get your asses in the truck and get the hell outta here. Actin’ like rowdy children,” he demands, but he’s smiling.

  “Learned it from you!” Diesel pops off, and Jackson rears up like he’s going to charge them.

  It’s enough to scare the shit out of them, and they climb into the truck without hesitation. When I see the look on their faces as they back out of the drive, I chuckle. They’re giggling like schoolkids, and so is Jackson.

  I shake my head, and Jackson pats me on the back. “Guess it’s time to get back to work.”

  “Yes, sir,” I confirm, then head to the barn. One thing about working on the Bishop ranch is that there’s never, ever a dull day around here.

  Chapter Nine

  MAIZE

  I can’t believe today’s the competition. I’ve been counting down to this ever since I got that phone call, and now it’s finally here. My nerves have gotten the best of me all week, and I’ve been a wreck, trying not to overwhelm myself. I know what winning could do—give me the opportunity to jumpstart my business.

  When I was in culinary school, it was very competitive. I received job offers from many of the chefs who taught me after I graduated. I could’ve gone anywhere—San Francisco, New York, Dallas, or Chicago—and worked for upscale restaurants and fine dining experiences only, but the stress would’ve been too intense for me to handle. Instead, I explained I’d be working for the family business. Though it wasn’t what they wanted to hear, it was respectable, and I don’t regret my decision. Being under pressure like that isn’t for me, which is why I don’t enter cooking competitions.

  When we arrived with the pit early yesterday morning and saw the competition lined up, I was ready to drink tequila straight from the bottle. Diesel and Riley got the wood loaded and the pit to temperature as I prepared the meat. Some contestants have been smoking meat longer than I’ve been alive. They take it seriously and want to win just as much as I do. Learning there were close to thirty teams nearly gave me a heart attack.

  Mom, Dad, Grandma, and I arrived before the sun rose this morning. After we parked, I added more hickory to the pit as my parents put up the canopy with chairs, so we didn’t bake in the sun. I brought a checklist with timelines for my team, and as soon as Kenzie saw it, she rolled her eyes. My cousins have been the best support system and have helped me so much, but not without complaint.

  Dad gets up and stretches as Knox and Kane check the temperature of the food. Kenzie micromanages them, using her soon-to-be teacher skills, and it makes me chuckle.

  “You okay?” Dad asks as I unlock my phone and check the time. I swear only ten minutes have passed since I last looked.

  I shrug. “Yeah. I gue
ss. As good as I’m gonna be until this is all over.”

  “Honey, you’re gonna do fine. And even if you don’t win, I’m proud of you for trying. It’s hard to put yourself out there and allow people to judge and be critical of something you’re so passionate about,” he says, patting me on the back. “It smells delicious.”

  “You wanna try the first cut when I pull it?” I lift my eyebrows, already knowing the answer to that question.

  “Damn right,” he tells me.

  I look around him, and Kenzie gives me a thumbs-up. We’re on track to having the juiciest brisket to date. If I don’t win, I will swear until my dying day the judging was rigged.

  Dad walks back to his seat, and Elle comes up to me. “Almost ready?” She checks the time on her smartwatch. “We have about two hours before we have to pull the meat and deliver the plates to the judge’s area.”

  “I know. Actually, only one hour so it can rest beforehand.” I bite my bottom lip, knowing that the juices will run out without adequate time to sit, making the meat dry. The last thing I want to do after smoking it for twenty-four hours is to ruin it at the end, and damn, it’s so easy to do.

  The twins are responsible for making sure it doesn’t get dry and checking the internal temperatures. Right now, it’s just a waiting game. I’ve done this process at least a hundred times since I knew I’d be competing, but it still makes me anxious. If something can go wrong for me, it usually does.

  “Girl, you got this,” Elle encourages, noticing my mood. Kenzie walks up and bumps her hips against mine.

  “Can we eat yet?” she beams.

  “Not yet. I made an extra brisket just for y’all, though,” I tell her, knowing they’d want some after smelling it all day.

  “Seriously, if I could cook like you, I’d probably already be married,” Elle says with a smile.

  Her joke makes me laugh, and it’s exactly what I needed. “But then you wouldn’t be available for that hot boss of yours.”