Read Bad News Cowboy Online

Authors: Maisey Yates

Tags: #Cowboys, #Western, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Adult

Bad News Cowboy (30 page)

CHAPTER THREE

J
AKE
WAS
SO
caught up in the hell that had been his day that it wasn't until he was inside the coffee shop and in front of the counter, that he remembered.

Then, as his eyes connected with Cassie's, it all came flooding back.

His shower, and exactly what had gone through his mind when he'd jerked off in what had proven to be a futile effort to get sex off his brain. All he'd wanted was a little relief, but inescapably that moment when her fingers had brushed his hand kept playing through his mind, and then he would picture her face. But not looking uneasy, or blank and carefully professional as she usually did. No, he'd imagined her brown eyes clouded with desire, her full lips pink and swollen. Her dark hair out of its usual ponytail, and spread out over his pillow.

Yeah, he'd pictured that. And now he was standing in front of her in The Grind, those images intermingling with reality. It was official, this place regressed him. He needed to get out. If hours up to his elbows in mud and sheep shit hadn't proven that, his reaction to her certainly did.

He turned his head at the sound of the bell above the door. A man in a uniform, whom he recognized from high school as Eli Garrett, walked in. Eli was as clean-cut as ever, tall, dark-haired and smiling. Also fully able to beat the ever-loving shit out of someone should the need arise, Jake had no doubt.

Anyone in a law-enforcement field tended to make Jake nervous. Even though he hadn't been arrested since high school. And even then, no charges had ever been formally filed.

He deserved it, at least in one case. Stealing money out of the register of the Farm and Garden where he worked had been pretty low. Especially considering how nice the owners had been. But while he'd been cuffed and taken down to the station, in the end the owners had said there must've been some mistake. A little scaring him straight combined with some mercy he knew he hadn't deserved.

Cassie looked past Jake and smiled. That was not a smile he'd ever seen directed at him and he found himself feeling annoyed that the other man was on the receiving end of it. “Hi, Deputy Garrett. The usual?”

“Yes, Cassie, thank you.”

“Of course. Deputy Garrett, do you remember Jake from high school?”

Great. Now he had to be friendly. He took a breath and turned so that he was facing Eli, then held out his hand. “Jake Caldwell. Back in town for a bit.” He didn't need to be intimidated. And he didn't need to stand there feeling ashamed of who he'd been.

“Yeah,” Eli said before accepting Jake's offered hand and shaking it firmly. “I remember you.”

“That might not be a good thing.”

“Do any of us really want to be remembered for who we were in high school?”

That was a bit more kindness then Jake expected. “I don't guess.”

“So, what brings you back into town? Moving home?”

Jake bristled at the description of Copper Ridge as home. “My dad died. He left me his estate. I'm just back to get the ranch and things into shape before I put it on the market.”

“Sorry about that.”

“It wasn't unexpected.” Which was sort of an odd response, but he wasn't going to stand around and pretend to be grieving. Not considering that he hadn't even seen his father once in the fifteen years since he left. No one was more surprised than he was that the old man had left him the place.

He nearly snorted. The place and all the shit in it. Junk on the front lawn, stacks of paperwork he would need six months to get through.

“Even so,” Eli said, “sorry to hear it.” Cassie handed a cup of coffee back to him and Eli handed her a five dollar bill before nodding once. “See you around.” He turned and walked away.

“You make a practice of serving customers in front of the line last?” Jake asked, directing the question a Cassie.

“No, it's just that Deputy Garrett is a busy man.”

“You don't think I'm a busy man?”

Color flooded her cheeks, and he couldn't deny that he took a small amount of pleasure in having rattled her. “I'm sure you are. Speaking of busy, you must want your muffin.”

“I would. I would like my muffin.” He didn't really care about the muffin.

“And your coffee?”

“You can't eat a muffin without a coffee. I'm not a barbarian.”

“No, I daresay you aren't. In fact, a lot of people would say muffins are quite civilized. Not really a manly food.”

“Muffins aren't manly?”

“Well, I don't get a lot of men in here ordering them.”

“Well, screw that. Muffins are delicious.”

She lifted a shoulder. “Fair point. Delicious blueberry or delicious chocolate?”

“Do you even have to ask? If there's chocolate, the answer is always chocolate.” Other than securing the rental of the apartment this was the most talking they'd done since he'd come back.

“On that we can agree.” This time, she put both the muffin and the coffee on the counter, rather than handing either directly to him. He was weirdly disappointed by that.

“Since you didn't drop the muffin, I insist on paying for it today.”

“I suppose I won't argue with you on that, either.”

“Still cash only?” he asked, tugging his wallet out of his pocket. She was not the only business in Copper Ridge that didn't take debit or credit yet.

“Yeah, for now. I'm getting one of those things for your phone that lets you take credit payment, but I haven't done it yet.”

“How long have you had this place open?”

“Two years.”

Which explained what seemed to be a bare-bones staff and the very late nights she put in. All the hallmarks of a business that was still trying to get on its feet. “Well, good for you. It's a lot of work running a business.”

“Do you run one?”

“Not really. I manage one. But I don't own it. The owner is a friend of mine, and he's semiretired.” He'd be all retired soon, and Jake was poised to take over. If he could shake off the bonds that held him here. “The friendship part is just one reason I was able to come here and settle my father's estate.” Calling that dilapidated piece of property—and the vacant building downtown and this place—an estate was almost laughable, but he wasn't sure how else to phrase it.

“When you say settle it, what exactly do you mean?”

“What it sounds like. I don't have anything keeping me here. I'll be going back to Seattle as soon as I can.”

Cassie drew back as though she'd been slapped. “Oh. Will you have a property manager, or...?”

“No. I won't need one. Because I won't have property here anymore.”

Her dark eyes widened and she shot a quick look out to the dining room, before looking back at him. “You mean you're going to sell?”

“Yeah.”

“All of it, though? Not just the ranch?”

“Yeah, did you think I was planning anything else? I'm not going to stay here and play cowboy. It's not my thing.”

“Well, I thought you might make your intentions explicit considering you own the building I live and work in.”

“I'm a little ways off from listing it, and I had intended to offer the place to you.”

“I can't get a loan for it.”

“Then you can continue to lease it from the person who buys it for me.”

“You're assuming that the person who buys it from you will allow me to continue leasing it. And that they won't raise the rate.”

Jake rubbed the back of his neck. This was not the kind of complication he needed. If he had a hope in hell of buying John out eventually like he was planning, he needed to offload these properties. He was in a decent financial situation, but buying a very successful business wasn't cheap. And sure, he could keep the properties and lease them, but that would rob him of money he could use as a down payment, and land him with a bigger mortgage than he was comfortable with. In addition to that, he would have to get someone to manage things in Copper Ridge for him, and all of it would just keep him tied to a place he had no desire to be tied to.

And he felt sorry for Cassie, he did. But warm fuzzy feelings weren't going to get him where he needed to go.

“Well, we have some time to figure it out.” Even though he knew he would arrive at the same conclusion regardless of how much time passed.

“I'm not sure I like that.”

“What?”

“That non-answer. It might be easy for you to just leave things up in the air, because you have all the control. I'm the one whose livelihood and home hang in the balance.”

“Look, I really hate to be a jackass about this, but it isn't my problem. My problem right now is getting all of the shit off my dad's property. Because if I don't do it myself it's going to cost me a crapload of money that I don't want to spend. And trust me, coordinating the removal of rusty cars, old toilets and fucking chickens is not as much fun as it sounds.”

“It doesn't sound fun at all.”

“I know, that was kind of the point.”

“You're removing chickens and helpless coffee shop owners. Big week for you.”

“I'm re-homing them. And I'm not doing anything with you. Yet.”

“As you make your decision, remember, you owe me for yesterday's muffin.”

He frowned. “It was on you. Because you dropped it on the floor.”

“That was before I knew you were intent on throwing me out onto the streets.”

“I am not throwing you out onto the streets.”

She lifted her hands and then slapped them down against her thighs. “You might be. You don't know. You're going to wash your hands of me. And leave me to be devoured by the winds of fate.”

“That is...just a little dramatic, don't you think?”

“It's not dramatic at all! You are talking about selling my building out from under me. I don't think there is an overdramatic where that's concerned.”

“If that were the case. But nothing has been decided, there is no specific buyer threatening to take anything from you, and I am not paying you for the muffin.”

“You know what? That's just petty, is what that is. You were going to pay me for the muffin, and then I told you not to, but now I want you to, and you won't.”

“That's because you're being retaliatory. And I think it's small.” He was more amused by all this than he should be. More amused by her than he should be. But she was quick, and she was a lot more fiery than he remembered her being in high school.

“Oh, so now I'm small? Yeah, I'm small. That's what I am. A small-business owner. And I'm being crushed by The Man.”

Jake had never been accused of being The Man before in his life. He didn't exactly have the look for it. “I am not crushing you. And I'm going upstairs now. Where I can eat my muffin without being abused.”

“Abused? I would've thought you were a bit sturdier than this, Caldwell.”

“I'm very sturdy. I promise you that. I just also happen to have an aversion to histrionics.”

He turned and headed back toward the door. He didn't have the luxury of worrying about Cassie Ventimiglia and her coffee shop. Yeah, it would suck if whoever bought the place took it out from under her. But he was sure there were terms that could be worked out. And yeah, maybe her rent would go up, but she was underpaying. He also knew she didn't have a predetermined amount of time on her lease. So she didn't have any protection in that manner, either.

And sure, it made him feel bad. But not enough to willingly submit to holding on to a piece of Copper Ridge. Not enough to submit to holding on to a piece of the Caldwell family.

There was a reason he had left all those years ago. And the reason was as valid today as it had been then.

Cassie didn't know. Nobody did. And that meant the way he handled things was nobody's damn business but his.

CHAPTER FOUR

C
ASSIE
HAD
SPENT
the rest of last night feeling incredibly annoyed, and stirred up, and like her entire life was being upended yet again. She felt like she'd already had enough upheaval for one lifetime. Yes, it had only happened once. But once was enough. She did not want to start over again. How many times was a woman supposed to reinvent herself?

She, of course, had not found that answer while pacing around her apartment growling. And today, the answer continued to elude her as she sat in the driver's seat of her car, unable to get it to start. The hits just kept on coming.

She cursed and got out of the car, fighting the urge to kick her tires. She had errands to run, and this was one of her only days off. So, of course, the car that she rarely used refused to perform its function.

She released another growl into the universe and slammed the door shut, stomping around toward the front of the coffee shop. She was going to have to call her accountant and let her know she was going to be late. Liss would do her best to reschedule her, but Cassie hated to put the other woman out.

Just as she was about to go inside The Grind, Jake appeared from around the back of the building. She froze, feeling slightly sheepish about the way she had behaved toward him yesterday. She was justified, but she'd been childish. And she really could've been a little bit more mature. If only because she imagined having him feel positively toward her was better than having him angry with her. All things considered.

And she wasn't usually one to make waves, but then, Jake had always brought out feelings in her that were less than typical.

“Good morning.” There, she had greeted him. And she hadn't even spewed any fire and brimstone in his direction.

“Good morning.” He raised his brows, clearly just as surprised as she was that she'd managed to be civil.

“I hope you slept well.” She hadn't heard him showering last night, so thank heaven for small favors.

And that was not what she wanted to think about right now. Not when she was annoyed. Not when she was looking at him, and would probably start blushing.

“Yeah, I slept fine.”

She bit back a rude comment. “Well, that's good.”

“You sound thrilled. You don't work this morning?”

“No, I have the day off. Which means I have to do the business things I can't do while I'm in the shop.”

“Exciting times in Copper Ridge.”

“You aren't lying.”

“So where you headed?”

“My accountant's. To drop off financial stuff.”

“Ahh, I see. As opposed to dropping off badger-related things at your accountant's.”

“Charming. Now, while you do a very good impression of the sarcastic jerkface, I am in a bit of a rush, and having car trouble so...”

She couldn't really figure out why Jake made her feel so damned obstinate, only that he did. And that she didn't really mind. To the contrary, she sort of liked it.

He gave her something to kick against when she generally felt like she was simply drifting downstream.

“I'm going to ignore the fact that you called me a name I haven't heard since I was in elementary school. What kind of car trouble are you having?”

“I don't know.” She hated that feeling of not knowing. Or more accurately, of knowing she was in over her head, and that she needed help, but didn't have it.

Frankly she couldn't afford to get the car repaired, and she had no idea how to replace anything herself. Her husband had done that stuff, and these were about the only times when she felt his absence. Most of the time she felt like she was better off without him—enriched even. But when the drain was clogged, a car needed repairing, something heavy needed lifting, or a jar lid was being particularly stubborn, she really missed the bastard.

“Well, if you show me your problem I'm sure I can tell you what it is.”

“The thing is, I'm late to meet Liss.”

“Where is her office?”

“It's up the road about five miles, not something I can sprint. Even if I started walking now, I would still be late.”

“If you wait down here for a second I can come back with a solution to your problem.”

She blinked rapidly. “Well, that sounds...almost too good to be true.”

“I promise you it's not.” He turned and walked back around the building and she just stood there gaping. And staring after him. Because even though she was officially annoyed with him, he was still nice to look at.

Something about being exposed to Jake was a whole lot like jumping from a sun-soaked rock into a freezing river. For the past five years she'd been comfortable. Comfortable right where she was, finding her feet again, letting go of a marriage that had lasted eight years instead of a lifetime. Once she'd done that she'd settled in and found purpose in her new life. She hadn't wanted what she'd lost again.

Jake made her want things. Not love and commitment- type things, other things. Naked things. Sweaty things.

It made her feel a little bit flushed just thinking about it.

And right on cue, just as her face was overheating from her libidinous thoughts, Jake reappeared, holding a motorcycle helmet.

“I'm not sure what you think you're doing with that.” She eyed him suspiciously.

“I'm offering you a ride.” He extended the helmet, her face reflecting in the shiny black surface.

She looked up from her own wide-eyed stare, and presented it to him. “I don't ride on motorcycles.”

“Well, you can start today.”

“I think you misunderstood. It's not that I've never had the opportunity.” But she hadn't. “I don't ride on them because the idea is about as appealing as inhaling dandelion fluff and then licking a pig's foot to get the taste out of your mouth.”

“Evocative.”

“I'm trying to get my point across that I don't find the idea very appealing at all.”

“Yeah, I actually got that out of your simile,” he said.

“Wow, you even knew it was a simile.”

“I had a good tutor back in high school.”

* * *

S
OMETHING
ABOUT
BRINGING
the past into the present made Jake's chest tighten. He didn't like to think about the past and he had good reason. But Copper Ridge made it impossible not to.

“I tutored you in math, not English. I was not the one to teach you about similes.”

“Maybe I just absorbed some of your intelligence.”

“See, you think I'm intelligent. Therefore, my concerns about riding on a motorcycle are probably valid.”

“Probably. But then, I've been riding on one for about seventeen years and I seem okay.”

“Okay, I don't have time to stand here quibbling with you about this.” She snatched the helmet from his grip and put it down over her head, so that only her nose and eyes were visible, a strand of dark hair hanging down the middle of her forehead and disappearing beneath the face mask.

“That's a good look for you, Cassie.”

She blinked, and he was suddenly very aware of just how long her eyelashes were, and how very attractive that was to him. Seriously, the brush of her fingers against his and her eyelashes. He needed to get a grip. And not the type he'd gotten in the shower a couple of days earlier.

“It doesn't surprise me that badass biker chick is kind of my thing.”

“Speaking of,” he shrugged off his leather jacket and held it out toward her, “You need to complete the look.”

“What about you?”

“We'll be driving through town, so I'll go slow. But I would still feel better if you wore the jacket.”

She took the jacket and shrugged it on, the sleeves hanging over her hands and the bottom extending to midthigh. There was something sexy about that, too. And he was just done questioning his sanity, because it was clear the question was answered. It was gone, and he needed some kind of sexual release.

But not with her. Maybe he would drive up to Tolowa and look for someone to hook up with. One- night stands weren't really his thing these days, but exceptions could be made.

At least with someone he would never see again.

“Okay.” The word was jittery, and so was she, her fingers trembling. At least what he could see of them peeking out from the jacket sleeves. “Let's do this, I've got an appointment.”

“And you have all your paperwork?”

“Yep.” She tapped the large purse that she had slung over her shoulder.

“All right then.” He walked over to his motorcycle and put on his helmet then got on, waiting for her to do the same.

“So I...just get on behind you.”

Oh, shit. He'd sort of overlooked this part. “Yes,” he said, conscious of the roughness in his own voice.

She took a tentative step to the bike, then disappeared from his field of vision as she moved behind him. He felt a light touch on his shoulder, which was quickly taken away.

“It's fine, you're going to have to hold on to me anyway.” Sexual tension was making him testy.

Two hands gripped his shoulders, and he felt her settle in behind him. Her thighs rested on either side of his.

“You need to put your arms around my waist.” Yeah, this was going to kill him.

She complied, her grip so tight around him it was like she was attempting the Heimlich. “This feels slightly unstable,” she said, her voice in his ear, muffled by the helmets between them.

“It's not, I promise. As long as you're not going to let go of me suddenly.”

“Yeah, it's safe to say I'm not going to be doing that.”

He started the motor. “Good. Are you ready?”

“No.”

“We're going anyway, okay?”

He felt her nod against his back and he smiled, putting the bike in gear and moving forward, careful to take off gradually so that he wouldn't terrify his virgin passenger.

He gritted his teeth. All things considered that wasn't a very good descriptor. It stuck his mind straight back in the gutter.

He did his best to keep all of his focus on the road, on the passing scenery. Belatedly, he realized he hadn't exactly gotten directions from her. But he figured he would keep going straight until she gestured wildly.

In his defense, he had been distracted. By trying not to be distracted by his attraction to her.

Maybe that was the real issue. Maybe his attraction to her was an attempt at distracting himself from other problems. From the ranch, and all of the ghosts that it held. It was strange seeing it now, fallen into such dilapidation. In order for the excuse to wash, he had to ignore the attraction he'd felt to her back in high school, but for the sake of his sanity he was willing to do that.

The ranch had never been a mansion by any stretch but it hadn't been run down like this. But his mother had been gone for more than twenty years, and Jake himself hadn't been back in fifteen. From all accounts, his father had been in a home the last two years of his life and not living out on the property.

Someone must've been taking care of the animals because they were still there, but no one had bothered to do any upkeep on the house. If he had ever had any affection for the place, the disrepair would have made him sad.

They drove past the collection of tourist shops, which were one major change from when he lived here as a kid. This street had mainly been deserted, and there had been very little value in the properties. Which was, he assumed, how his father had managed to end up with a few of the buildings. And why he had never been able to do anything with them. The place had been a near ghost town back then.

From what he'd gathered since coming back tourism had started to build in the past ten years, along with the restoration of Old Town. Brick that had once been crumbling and run-down was now charming and quaint. Buildings that had been peeling and splitting were now restored, painted bright whites, pale blues and deep reds. Fish shacks that had only ever been for locals were now obviously designed to bait out-of-towners with promises of the freshest seafood.

One little building that he'd remembered as being empty was now covered in wind chimes, flags and things made of driftwood. It was amazing what paint, new signage and some landscape could do.

He took the main road up out of Old Town, away from the beach. As the road curved inland the pine trees thickened, casting dusky shadows over them, golden sun filtering through the trees and bathing everything in a glittering haze.

Objectively, Jake had to admit the place was beautiful, which was a tough thing for him since it also created a knot of tension in his chest that refused to ease. He managed to find beauty in Seattle, though it had taken a few years of living there to get used to all of the glass and steel. As cities went, there was a lot of nature. And the ocean was still nearby. He didn't think he could live anywhere that wasn't by the ocean.

It wasn't that he spent a whole lot of time beachcombing. He wasn't big on the sand between his toes. It was a feeling of freedom the ocean afforded. He had a vague sense that as long as it was nearby there was an escape. The idea of being landlocked unsettled him. It was akin to being trapped in his mind.

That was one of the reasons he'd always ridden his bike. There was something about it that felt like flying. That felt like escape. What he wasn't used to was riding with another person, and interesting that Cassie's arms tight around his waist didn't feel like restraints. They felt warm, they felt secure.

And it felt like they were escaping together.

Though what Cassie Ventimiglia might have to escape from he had no idea. It struck him then that he knew nothing about the life she'd led since he'd left. He knew that she had opened The Grind two years ago, and that was the beginning and end of his knowledge.

It made him feel like an asshole to realize that. Seemed like he should've asked.

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