I am Not Your Melody: (steamy cowboy romance) Read online

  Allie stepped out of the car, smoothed her blouse once more, and looked around for someone to point her in the right direction. The wind was picking up, blasting cold air right through the thin cotton.

  The car door handle was freezing when she opened the car again to grab her jacket, a thick, beige wool pea-coat she’d always thought made her look a bit like Eponine from Les Misérables (one of her favorite musicals ever, definitely).

  “Hello?” Allie called, buttoning up. No one responded.

  In fact, no one seemed to be around at all. Only the cattle. Down the dirt road a bit there were some stables. Maybe Bill was tending to his horse. He’d already told her he was in the process of taming a wild stallion that had needed medical help for a wound.

  It was weird to be there, knowing details about the ranch from Bill’s emails without ever having been there before.

  Allie pulled out her phone to text him. May as well give him a heads up that she was there…even if he’d be pissed. Her fingers clasped around nothing but air in her pocket.

  You have got to be kidding me. Now she’d have to ransack the car, then retrace her tracks all the way back to Ginger. Thank goodness she had her missing phone password-protected, in case Ginger wanted to go through it (searching for a way to help Allie get her phone back, of course. Nothing to do with gossip.)

  But now that Allie had finally gotten to the ranch, after almost a week on the road…the last thing she wanted to do was jump back in the car and leave. Later, yes. Now: find Bill.

  Allie walked on the dirt path down to the barn. Somebody would probably be there, at least.

  “Hello?” she called again.

  A horse in the stables whinnied in response, and Allie grinned.

  “Yay!” She whispered her cheer, just for herself. It had been awhile since she’d last gotten an opportunity to say hi to horses.

  They were such amazing animals. When she was a kid, she had taken home a blue ribbon in Dressage. But her equestrian hobby was too expensive to keep up after her mom divorced, and so she’d had to say goodbye to her horse Salsa and her riding lessons, right at the same time her dad moved out.

  Uh oh… did that sound like stomping hooves?

  This horse did not look happy. The closer she got to the stable, the more huge the horse appeared, practically filling the stall with his muscular body. He flattened his ears when he saw her approach and shook his head.

  “Are you the wild one?” she whispered.

  She didn’t see the wound Bill had told her about from her vantage point, but this didn’t look like a domesticated working horse — not at all. It had to be the one Bill was trying to tame.

  The fact that Bill had emailed to tell her about it the moment he got a chance after rescuing the injured animal made her giddy in a silly, girly way —because that meant Bill saw her as a friend, the way she’d begun to see him.

  It was the ride a’ my life, Allie, he’d written to her, I wish you were here already to see how strong an’…beautiful…this stallion is. Takes my breath away.

  He’d been right — the stallion was beautiful. But its strength made it dangerous.

  “Whoa… it’s okay. Look,” she said, keeping her hands at her sides. “I’m taking a step back, no worries.”

  The stallion still looked like he wanted to kill her. She turned and walked several feet more away. Maybe that would calm it down, make it stop moving in that angry, restless way.

  Something was wrong with that horse. Maybe the horse was acting that way because he’d injured himself banging around in the stall like that. Or maybe his wound was really hurting him, or infected or something.

  “Is anybody here?” she called, walking across in front of the stable to see if someone was working on the other side of the structure.

  The stallion neighed in fright, and rushed forward, shaking the wooden stall door.

  Allie looked up at the horse, willing the wave of fear that flowed through her not to show in her body language. She’d never dealt with a wild horse before. Her attempts at calming it would’ve worked on a show horse, maybe, but not this guy.

  Maybe what she’d thought was giving him enough space wasn’t enough at all.

  The stallion stomped his foot, quivers of tension rippling across his back.

  I’m too close for him. “Whoa!”

  With a lunge, the horse popped the latch on the gate, pushing the wood down to the ground with a mighty crash.

  Allie shrieked, and leapt to the side to get out of the way. She fell backward over her heels, landing in the dirt with her legs sprawled, and the horse dangerously close.

  Suddenly the sound of hooves rushed up behind her, and for a terrifying split-second, she thought she was about to be trampled to death.

  Please God, NO!

  Her body lurched into the air, her arms in a painful, unknown vise.

  “Help!” she screamed.

  She wasn’t sure if she was yelling for help from the wild stallion, or for help from the huge, mean-looking cowboy who had just lifted her up and thrown her across his saddle in front of him.

  Chapter Two

  The man on the horse held her still, keeping her immobilized. One heavy, muscular arm lay across her lower back, as if he were prepared to spank her.

  “What the hell did you do to that horse?” the man yelled. His icy gray eyes flashed with anger, and it was all directed at her.

  “That horse almost killed me!”

  The stallion had taken off, galloping around through the nearest pasture, which was thankfully empty of cattle. At least the fences should keep him away from her.

  Her elbows and her bottom hurt from her fall, but her pride hurt much worse at being manhandled and thrown over the back of a horse by this man.

  A handsome man, at least beneath the scruff and anger on his face. He must be one of the ranchhand “boys” Ginger had basically suggested Allie marry.

  The cowboy grabbed her under the armpits and roughly pulled her to sitting, without bothering to tell her he was going to do so first. She winced as her butt hit the saddle.

  “Get your grubby hands off of me.”

  The cowboy raised his hand and she flinched. No, he wasn’t going to hit her.

  He looked at his hand, checking out the lines of dirt under his fingernails. “Did I ruin yer wardrobe?” he asked, dripping sarcasm. “Gettin’ trampled by that wild stallion would’ve mussed you up even worse.”

  “I knew it!” she said. “I knew he was wild. You guys shouldn’t keep him locked up like that. He hates it.”

  “That ain’t your business,” he snapped.

  Without warning, he wrapped his thick, muscular arm around her waist to keep her from falling off, and squeezed his thighs against his horse’s flanks to make it move. The familiar feel of a horse trotting beneath her, merged with the altogether unfamiliar feel of a large muscular man holding her pressed against him.

  “I’m takin’ you back to wherever you came from,” he said, “and then I gotta undo what you just did — messin’ up Pirate’s trainin’.”

  Allie shook her head in amazement. This guy had nerve, moving her body about like a ragdoll just because he could, and talking to her like she was a naughty little girl. Unbelievable.

  “I wonder how the owner of this ranch would feel if he knew how you’re treating his new business partner,” she said, barely able to contain her anger.

  He slowed the horse to a halt. “What did you say?”

  His voice was steely, even, and the hint of threat behind the words made Allie slink back — only to be reminded by the feel of his arm around her that she was quite literally not going anywhere.

  “I didn’t mean…” She swallowed hard, and forced herself to meet his hard gaze. “I have a meeting with Bill Edwards. I just was looking for him, that’s all.”

  “I am Bill Edwards,” he said. “And you can bet your ass I was not expectin’ you.”

  Any dream she’d had of impressing her new busines
s partner with her professionalism flew out the window. Her hopes of seeing Bill in person and instantly picking up where their emails had let off were dashed as well. She looked heavenward and sighed audibly.

  “Can we start over?” she asked, still looking at the impossibly panoramic sky.

  “Allie Crawford,” he said, not answering her question. “Live and in the flesh.”

  Allie dropped her gaze and looked at him, trying to behave the same way she did with the stallion. Don’t show any sign of fear, and act in a non-threatening way. Whatever she’d thought she knew about Bill Edwards had to go on the backburner now that she had the real Big Bad Bill in front of her. This cowboy was as wild as his horse — his reputation had preceded him, and she should’ve known it was him.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” she said, her throat scratchy from when she’d screamed. “But it’s still me. You…know me.”

  “I suppose the contract’s already signed,” he grumbled, “and I have to trust you with my uncle’s bar. You better be as good as you say you are.”

  “I am.” Allie lifted her chin, trying to look like she meant it.

  It was hard to feel confident balancing so precariously on the saddle, with this man — this man she’d stupidly thought was her friend — who acted like he hated her at the same time as he held her tightly against him, whether she wanted him to, or not.

  And she better be as good as she said she was…or what?

  This was a mistake.

  Bill jumped off the horse; his long, thick leg, clad in denim, swung around with surprising agility for a man his size. Without waiting for Allie to climb down, he reached up to take her around the waist and pulled her off the horse. She slid against his body for one terrifying second before her feet hit the ground.

  “What the hell day is it, anyway?” he growled.

  “I know I’m early,” she said. “But that’s how it is. I need to stay in the apartment above the bar.”

  “No.”

  “It’s mine,” she said. “That’s part of the already-signed contract.”

  The contract was exactly what she’d needed, broke as she was. She’d bought fifty percent ownership of the bar, and full ownership of the apartment above it, with the understanding that she would renovate, open and run the bar on her own, while Bill would put in one hundred percent of the money to get it open again. Then they would split the profits fifty-fifty on an ongoing basis.

  Seeing as how she’d drained her savings to buy half of the bar, she had nothing left to do any fixes or even to buy liquor. The situation was really the only one she could’ve done. It was the only way to run her own bar, to have her own stake in it.

  And now she’d just made her life-time, ongoing business partner hate her.

  “Don’t just stand there,” he said roughly. “Let’s go.”

  ***

  Allie closed the door of his farmhouse office behind her, and stood, waiting for an invitation to seat herself. It never came.

  Bill leaned against the edge of his desk and looked down at her from his considerable height. His cool gray eyes studied her. Allie held her breath and stared back.

  Damn, he’s good-looking. And intimidating.

  “You’re really Allie, huh?” Bill said. “Thought you’d be…older.”

  “I thought the same of you,” she said, and shrugged.

  “How do ya like the middle of nowhere?”

  It didn’t matter whether she liked the location or not. It was the only bar she could afford — the only one with the unusual deal terms Bill offered — and the perfect excuse to get the heck out of Miami, but she wasn’t going to say that.

  Allie put on a big smile. “Your uncle’s bar is in one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever visited,” she said. It was true, even if it wasn’t her main reason for wanting the bar. “I’m very excited, and based on the pictures you sent —”

  “— Zach Walker took those pictures,” he interrupted. “Back when my uncle was still running the bar.”

  Allie nodded. So the pictures were old. She kind of already knew that, or did she? Had she looked past that little tidbit when they were exchanging info online?

  “Your assistant took great photos,” she offered.

  “Zach ain’t my assistant,” he said. “Those ranchhands pretty much run the place now.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said. Stop apologizing. A man wouldn’t apologize.

  “It’s better for me that way,” he replied, mistaking her apology for calling Zach an ‘assistant’ as sympathy. “I don’t have any time to do what I used to do ‘round here on the ranch. May as well get this straight right now — all that emailin’, I don’t have time for that much involvement in real life. Runnin’ that bar is all on you. “

  If he didn’t run the ranch, and he couldn’t run the bar, what exactly did he do all day?

  “Of course,” she said, and smoothed her slacks, which had taken a beating from the stallion incident. “I understand completely. You don’t want to be…involved.”

  Bill looked at her, concern showing in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. “Did you hurt yourself when you fell?”

  “I only hurt my pride,” she admitted, “and my one chance at meeting you on a good note.”

  He shook his head. “You talk jus’ like you write. It’s strange hearin’ the words come outta your mouth.”

  “Right?” Allie laughed. “Maybe it would be easier for us both if we just pulled out our phones and started emailing each other instead. Just pretend we never met and immediately started screaming at each other.”

  Bill smiled, finally, his first smile at her since she’d finally laid eyes on him. His whole face brightened, his straight white teeth contrasting handsomely with the dark scruff on his jaw.

  Well, her phone was missing, but it was a good a plan.

  “I’d like to get started fixing up the bar right away,” she added. “You don’t have to do anything.”

  “Have at it,” he said, and tossed a set of keys to her.

  They dropped to the floor by her feet, since she wasn’t expecting the cowboy to just randomly throw things at her.

  “Oops…thank you,” she muttered, and picked them up. “Do you have a checkbook you can throw at me too?” Allie jingled the keys to the bar as if it would distract him from the uncomfortable discussion of money. “Seriously though.”

  “You just got here,” Bill said, “and you already want access to my checking account?” He glared at the keys as if he might rip them away from her, right out of her hand.

  She gripped the keys in her sweaty palm, silencing them. The man crossed his arms in front of his muscular chest and raised an eyebrow.

  “As per our arrangement,” she reminded him through gritted teeth. “I need a checkbook or a debit card to an account that exists solely for business expenses, or whatever you think is best so I can get out of your hair. Either way, the sooner this bar opens, the sooner we can start sharing the profits, right?”

  Fifty percent profits on his family bar was a lot more than zero, which he was currently earning from the property.

  Bill grunted. “Fine.” He paused, staring out the big window to the hay field. “Suppose it’s ‘bout time my uncle’s bar was opened back up,” he said. “Been meanin’ to do it for a while now, but…” His voice dropped off.

  “I understand,” Allie said. “It must’ve been hard to think about taking on such a huge project while you were still mourning your uncle… and… your wife.”

  Bill’s eyes flashed as he swiveled his head to face her, his jaw hardening. “Whatever you think you know about Melody,” he said. “You don’t know. Don’t talk about her.”

  Allie’s cheeks burned. She’d screwed up royally for the second time in…oh, twenty minutes? They’d just met — had she thought they were going to become best friends in only a few moments, especially after he’d thrown her over his horse with every intention of kicking her off his ranch?

  Yeah,
she’d thought exactly that.

  “I didn’t mean to offend you,” she whispered. “Sometimes I talk too much and say the wrong thing. I apologize.”

  Bill didn’t respond.

  She pulled her shoulders back and shook her head to clear the tension inside her. If only she could clear the tension in the room.

  “Do you have time now to take me to see the bar?” she asked. It would probably be best to get back to talking business before she stuck her foot in her mouth again. “I’d love to see it in real life. The photographs were wonderful, by the way,” she added.

  Bill nodded mutely, his jaw clenching. He grabbed his black cowboy hat off the hook by the door, and set it on his head. He grabbed the keys to his truck.

  “Let’s go,” he said. “I don’t have all day.”

  Allie groaned inwardly and followed him.

  “I have to grab my phone,” she said.

  He glared at her and she just shook her head. What else could she do?

  This was not how she’d imagined her first meeting with Bill Edwards. She’d wanted to impress him, to show him that she was worthy of his investment in her, and worth his faith in her.

  He had to have faith in her if he intended to pay for her to renovate and open the bar, right? After all, if he felt it needed to stay in the family, that had to mean that he considered her worthy of helping him do that. Right?

  Meeting Allie today must have been a big disappointment for him.

  Well, screw him — she’d prove him wrong, too. Bill Edwards may be an ornery asshole, but she was going to run the most kick-ass, profitable bar in the whole county, whether he thought she could do it or not.

  He’d signed a contract with her. So it didn’t matter how much she pissed him off, he’d better stand up to his end of the bargain.

  She wanted him to hand her a frickin’ checkbook, and stay the hell out of her way. It would be easy enough to forget she’d ever thought she knew him. That she ever liked him, when he was still only a ping in her inbox. Allie had a bar to open and a new life to begin — and no tall, handsome cowboy with too much money and a bad attitude was going to stop her.