Cowgirl Crazy (#2, Cowboy Way) (2 page)

Twyla huffed out a breath and leaned in
closer. Her nose was almost touching his, the heat of her anger
enhanced her heady scent, and it surrounded him. “I lo—um, care
about you, Ryan. That gives me the right. You’re a stupid man and
don’t see what women like her are up to!” she ground out, pointing
at Amber again.

Ryan saw the pulse pounding at her throat, and
his tongue tingled to taste it, feel that energy of hers
redirected, focused on something different than arguing with him
entirely. He inhaled deeply, because he couldn’t stop himself, and
drank her in through his senses. Twyla Taylor was so damned
beautiful when she was angry.

And he didn’t need to be fucking noticing
that
.

He cocked his head to the side and said,
“Newsflash, darlin’. You don’t have the market cornered on brains,
even though you think you do. And just because you might care about
me doesn’t give you the right to make my decisions or judge whoever
I decide to be with. It’s my damned life!” Ryan grabbed her
shoulders to turn her around. “Now, carry your ass to the barn,
check on your horse, then go back to the trailer and harass Zack
for a little while.”

He ignored the indignant little grunt, and
gave her a gentle push. She staggered a couple of steps, then
stiffened her shoulders and stormed off. Good, she was pissed off.
Maybe that would buy him a few days peace, he thought, as he turned
back toward Amber and took the second beer from her. He tossed his
head back and drank it almost down. He smacked his lips together
and handed her the bottle. “Thanks for the beer, honey, but I’m not
in the mood tonight.” He grabbed the strap on his duffle, and
hefted it up to his shoulder.

“
But—“ Amber whined, sticking out
her lower lip.

She took a few steps behind him, but Ryan held
up his hand. He knew if he let her in his trailer, it would end
badly. He really wasn’t in the mood now. Not after the fight he’d
just had with the woman he really wanted inside his trailer
tonight. This little redhead fell way short of Twyla in a lot of
areas, and no amount of pretending was going to make that
different.

Not this time. Not tonight.

Ryan had been putting it off for a long time,
but he knew if he didn’t do something about Twyla soon, he was
going to go batshit crazy. It was getting harder every day to push
her away. Sleeping with buckle bunnies when he wanted her was not
the solution. That took the edge off of his hunger for her, and
pissed her off enough to keep her away temporarily. But that was
just it. It was temporary. The next morning she was in his face,
flirting with him, helping him with things he could do on his own,
or when she ran out of excuses, she followed him to give him a hard
time. Her favorite pastime was giving him a hard time.

And Ryan walked around constantly hard because
of it.

No, this permanent solution would have to
involve manning up to tell Twyla he would never feel that way about
her. Could never feel that way about her. She was family, his
surrogate sister, nothing more. He couldn’t ever let his feelings
for her go beyond that. He hadn’t done that before, because he felt
like it would hurt her. And that was the last thing he wanted to
do. But this was hurting her more, and if he didn’t say anything
she would end up hurt worse.

The best thing he could do was just tell her
he wasn’t risking losing the only family he’d ever known, and his
best friend, to go there with her. It just wasn’t worth it for
either of them. Twyla Renee Taylor just needed to back off of his
bumper, and he was going to tell her that.

***

Twyla Taylor was done chasing Ryan Easter. She
had been chasing the man for ten years, since she was sixteen years
old. Enough was enough. Last night had been the final
straw.

Ryan had done everything he could to push her
away for years, and she was finally taking his not so subtle hints.
It was time to get over her infatuation. She just needed to face
facts. Her brother, Zack, was never going to let Ryan see her as
anything more than an irritating kid sister. Either that or Ryan
didn’t give a flying rat’s ass about her that way.

Her heart squeezed in her chest, as she
slammed the door of the tack compartment shut, after stuffing her
saddle inside. That was more likely. Hell, the women he was with
every night of the week, like the one last night, were a helluva
lot better looking than she was. Twyla knew she was tall, gangly
and flat-chested, verging on homely in her opinion. She never wore
makeup, or did a damned thing to try to be girly. The damned stuff
melted off in thirty minutes of practice in the arena, why would
she bother?

Because he might have taken you
more seriously, looked a little harder, if you’d have taken the
time to fix yourself up. If you had spent half as much time trying
to be a woman, as you did trying to fit in with the
guys.

To hell with that. She was who she was, and
Twyla wasn’t changing for a man. She was a rough-riding tomboy who
didn’t give a shit what people thought about her. There had to be a
man out there who would appreciate that quality in a woman. One
thing was for sure. Ryan Easter would never be that man. She knew
that now.

The best thing she could do was just get away
from both of them, her overbearing brother and Ryan. Grow up and
find a new direction for her life. Hell, get one, just like Ryan
had told her to do last night. The anger, hurt and frustration
she’d felt last night resurfaced to form a tight knot in her
throat. His words had driven right into her heart and branded
themselves there. Twyla would never forgive him, but she was going
to try damned hard to forget him.

It would take time, because she had been in
love with Ryan since she was sixteen years old, and the
nineteen-year-old had almost kissed her out by the bonfire at her
parent’s ranch. Ever since then she’d harbored hope that someday he
might finish that kiss. Notice her. Figure out how she felt about
him.

But that hope died a painful death last night,
and Ryan had just lost the best thing that almost happened to him.
She was not going to be held captive by that almost kiss anymore.
Twyla was going off to find herself a life, and her friend Heather
was going to help her.

She secured Tango’s lead rope to the hook
inside the trailer, then squeezed out and shut the back door with a
little more force than necessary. The loud bang pulled a frightened
whinny from Tango. She walked to the window at the side of the
trailer, tiptoed and stuck her hand inside to scratch his nose.
“I’m sorry, honey. It’s not your fault that he’s a blind
asshole.”

He could have his damned buckle bunnies and
barflies, and he could have the rodeo. She was going to find
something else to do. She’d been barrel racing since she was
sixteen too, and she still wasn’t winning like she wanted to. Twyla
was going to find something she was good at, other than chasing
Ryan Easter, other than watching his back to make sure he didn’t
get roped in by one of those buckle bunnies. He’d called her his
wingman before, and it hacked her off every time she heard it. Let
her damned brother be his wingman.

Twyla was a woman, and a good one. She was
going to find a man who realized that, right after she figured out
who she was as a woman. Last night she called her only female
friend, Heather, a woman she’d ridden barrels with for a year on
the circuit. Heather had invited her to come to stay with her in
Dallas. She’d also given Twyla several ideas of things she could
try out to see if they fit. Since Heather left the circuit, her
friend had gotten involved in a lot of stuff that sounded pretty
damned interesting.

And she sounded happy.

That was the feeling that had escaped Twyla
for years. It was a feeling she was determined to recapture. With a
sigh, she turned away from the trailer, and bumped into a broad
chest. Twyla stumbled back, ready to blast whoever was blocking her
way. But it was Ryan, and her heart did a fricking somersault in
her chest like it always did around him. Damned heart.

Gritting her teeth, she asked, “What do you
want?”

“
Where are you going?” he asked
with his hands on his hips. “We don’t pull out until tonight.” The
damned morning sunlight made the auburn highlights in his beard
growth sparkle, and his blue eyes look almost translucent. Twyla
was determined not to notice, and she was more than determined not
to let the scent of his piney cologne affect her this
time.

“
You
don’t pull out until
tonight. I am pulling out
now
,” she ground out, before
turning her back to walk around the rear of the truck. Ryan
followed closely behind her.

“
Where the hell do you think
you’re going? You have to ride tonight. You’re in second place, and
can win this time!”

Twyla grabbed the door handle on the truck,
but looked back over her shoulder. “I’m always in second place, and
I’m tired of it.”
With you and in the standings
, she added
mentally and fought the damned feminine emotion that tried to choke
her. “I told the admin this morning that I’m out. Now, I’m telling
you. Pass it on to Zack.”

Twyla jerked the handle, but Ryan leaned over
her to push the door closed again. “What the hell is wrong with
you? You can’t just leave! If this is about last night—”

“
This is about
every
fricking night!” she shouted, shouldering him away from her. “Now
move
! I’ve got to get to Dallas.”

Twyla swung open the door and managed to hop
into the driver’s seat, but Ryan blocked the door with his big body
so she couldn’t shut it. “What the fuck is in Dallas?”

“
The life that you told me to get
last night,” she replied snottily.

His brows furrowed, and his voice became
softer, coercing almost. “I’m sorry, Sissy. You can’t just leave.
Mama will be—”

Anger shot up to her head and it felt like it
might explode. It came out of her with a rush of words. “The first
thing you need to realize, Ryan Easter, is that I am
not
your sister. And
my
mother knows I’m leaving. I called her
last night.”

“
Zack is gonna be pissed,” Ryan
said.

It figured that’s who Ryan would be worried
about. “Zack can get glad the same way he got mad. I’m a grown
woman, and it’s time both of you recognize that. Now
move
!”
She jerked the door, and he backed up, but didn’t leave.

She slammed the door, then rolled down the
window to get some air. The air conditioning in her old truck had
given up the ghost a couple of years ago, and she hadn’t had the
money to fix it.

“
He’s going to blame me,” Ryan
said, tipping his hat back on his head.

“
He should blame you, asshole,”
she replied, angry that her hand shook as she put the keys into the
ignition. “But he should blame himself more. I’m done with both of
you.” Twyla cranked the truck, and put it in drive.

Ryan had no choice but to back up, or have his
foot run over by the trailer, as Twyla pulled off. In the side
mirror of the truck, she saw him throw up his hands and kick up
dust with his boot, before he turned and stomped off toward the
arena. She wanted to laugh. If that man felt half of the
frustration she was dealing with, had dealt with far too long, he
should be good and frustrated. It was about damned time he got some
of what he’d been dishing out for ten years.

But Ryan Easter’s state-of-mind was the last
thing on hers when she pulled out onto the highway. Excitement for
the new adventures that waited for her in Dallas built inside of
her, as she took the ramp to the interstate heading to
Dallas.

Freedom called. Freedom from the oppressive
control of her older brother, and freedom from the crush on Ryan
Easter that she had nursed for ten years too long.

CHAPTER
TWO

“
Twyla get up, we’re gonna be
late!” Heather yelled from the kitchen.

Twyla sniffed, smelled bacon frying mixed with
the aroma of rich coffee, and her eyes popped open. God, she could
use that coffee. A gallon of it. She hadn’t gotten to Heather’s
apartment yesterday evening until nearly seven o’clock, because she
had to meet with the owners at Tango’s new barn and get him settled
in a stall. She’d been sleeping since then, but still didn’t feel
fully rested. The bed in Heather’s spare bedroom was too soft, a
far cry from the pullout in Zack’s travel trailer. This whole
situation was just strange to her, but Twyla knew she would
eventually get used to it. She had to get used to it. This would be
her new life.

During the five-hour drive to Dallas, she and
Heather talked on the phone nearly the whole time. Her friend had
helped her come up with a plan to get her life on a different
track. One that didn’t include the rodeo, barrel racing, or Ryan
Easter.

Rolling over on her side, Twyla covered her
head with her pillow. She did not want to go to that salon today
with Heather, or shopping. Twyla was not a shopper, and she sure as
hell never worried about doing her hair or makeup. But if she
wanted the job which was open at the Crazy Cowgirl, she was going
to have to suck it up and go along with Heather’s plan.