Forbidden Cowboy (Rocky Ridge Creek #1)

Chapter Thirteen

LEVI

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“THERE’S TALK GOING around town.” My pa sits on the tailgate of my pickup.

I nod at two ranch hands who pass by. After my divorce, I sold the house I bought my ex-wife and moved into one of the ranch hand houses on my folk’s property. It’s worked just fine, until now. Now I want a big house with lots of bedrooms to share with Hope. The man glaring me down now is the one holding back my dream.

I toss my overnight bag into the back of my pickup. “There’s always talk.”

“Son, Henry will never let you date his daughter, let alone marry her. You’re fighting a battle you know nothing about.”

“I know what everyone else knows.”

“Who says they know everything?”

I hop on the tailgate beside my pa. “No one can keep secrets in this town. Unless of course, you have something you want to share.”

My pa’s gaze glides over the land stretching out miles. Land we’ve worked on together my whole life. Worked, laughed, and screamed our frustration out. I feel like he’s keeping something from me. Something he wants to tell me, but won’t. Or cant.

“You’re going to get hurt, son.” His voice is rough with pain.

“The only thing hurting me is your disapproval.” I hop off the truck. “I’m spending the weekend with Hope. I plan on marrying Hope and I’d really appreciate it if you’d stop the rivalry and stand by my side.” I don’t wait for his reply, knowing damn well he won’t budge. This weekend isn’t about him. So as I drive away from the ranch, I focus all my attention on the love of my life.

She’s waiting for me at the end of Fox Lodge driveway and wearing one of those knee-length floral dresses I can’t get enough of. They hug her body in all the right places and give easy access to romps in abandoned houses.

Josie gives a double thumbs up before the tires of the all-terrain vehicle peel back up the long driveway.

I hop out and take Hope’s bags from her. “Morning, sunshine.” I kiss her.

“I thought maybe you’d changed your mind.” She runs her hand down the front of my shirt.

“A wild bull couldn’t have kept me away.”

We load into the truck. I feel the tension as we drive through town. It’s not until Whisky Ridge Creeks sign is a dot in the reflection of the rear view mirror that my shoulders ease.

“I have a game to pass the time.” Hope shifts to face me.

“Do you?”

“It’s sixty-nine questions to test our compatibility.” Her thumb slides to open her homescreen on her phone.

I reach for her free hand. “That’s a lot of questions and I don’t think we need a compatibility test. I can tell you without a doubt, we’re one-hundred-and-ten percent compatible.”

“It’s very accurate.” A small smirk on her pink painted lips. “I found it on the internet.”

“Of course then, by all means, this will determine our compatibility.” I chuckle. “On a side note, did you notice the number? Sixty-nine.”

“Are you sixteen?”

“My guess is a sixteen-year-old wrote this.”

She ignores my accurate side note. “First question. Are you a spender or a saver?”

I squeeze her hand. “I’m a saver. But this weekend I’ve rented us a cottage nested in a southern belle pecan orchard.”

“So you’re a romantic.” She scrolls down the list.

“I’ve never been a romantic. Never had the desire.”

Hope leans back in the seat and rearranges the visor to block the early morning sun. “I recall many times you surprised me on one of our adventures. You snuck pie from your grandma’s baking. Or the time you set up a campsite on the fence line. Sleeping bags, a campfire and marshmallows were all present.”

The night is fresh in my mind too. We’d lied to our parents and spent the night under the stars. “That wasn’t supposed to be romantic.”

“Maybe not, but it revealed who you were, deep down. This sweet, caring guy who went out of his way for those he cared about.”

“Don’t go telling everyone. You’ll tarnish my grumpy name.”

“Next question, what is the most annoying thing couples do on social media?”

“I don’t have no goddam social media.” I tilt my head to her. “See, written by a sixteen –year-old millennial.”

The four hour drive to Louisiana is long, but I don’t mind. I don’t mind tracking across the state if I get to do it with Hope by my side. We stop in Alexandria for lunch. We find a patio outside and enjoy the buzz of the city over classic Louisiana red beans and rice with grilled sausage and cornbread. Halfway through our meal, Hope takes a bite of my cornbread with a little giggle. No one around us noticed. No one cares.

We tour an upscale flea market. Each time she slips her hand out of mine to look at a unique find, I want to grab it back. We don’t make it out without a few buys. Supper is creeping up, so we stop by a grocery store and pick up enough supplies to last us the weekend.

We check into our private log cabin with a terracotta roof. I know the specs: kitchenette, dining area, jacuzzi bathtub, and plush king size bed.

“It’s so cute.” Hope carries in her bags while I juggle the groceries and my own bag. “It reminds me of the lodge with its walls and earthy colors.”

I leave the bags on the kitchen table and follow Hope into the bedroom.

She runs her fingers through the rose petals sprinkled over the white coverlet on the maple bed. “Not the romantic type, huh?”

I lean against the doorframe. “Maybe a little.”

“Definitely a little.” She turns to me. “Are we eating out for supper?”

“We can.”

She loosens the top button in her dress. “I think I’ll take a shower before we go.” The second button opens. “I mean you were very jealous of my shower the other day—ahhh!” I’m across the room and tossing her over my shoulder in seconds. I slap her derrière. “I’ve been waiting all week for this.”