Roping the Cowboy

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

KAT

SIX MONTHS EARLIER

Online dating is hell. Then again, so is being single, which is why I’m putting myself out there. The annoying voice in my head has been screaming at me lately, continuously reminding me that all my friends are married with kids and I’m not getting any younger. Though I wouldn’t classify myself as old, my mother and grandma Gigi like to remind me I only have a finite number of eggs.

To appease my nagging family, I signed up for a dating app. During the past month of “trying” to meet The One, my matches have consisted of complete pervs who instantly sent d**k pics and see me as nothing more than a booty call. That’s not what I’m looking for, but there’s no middle ground. I’m not in any hurry to find someone just to fill a void because my Mr. Right has a lot of boxes to check, which is why I’m more single than a lost sock. It also doesn’t help that I’m known around town as a heartbreaker.

Going against my better judgment, I agree to meet up with one of the non-creepy men. His name is Noah, and he’s sweet, considerate, and has his s**t together, which is more than I can say about the donkey d***s who beg for my address five seconds after matching.

Just thinking about finally meeting Noah has me nervous as hell. He’s good-looking with sandy-blond hair and blue eyes. Though he’s a few years older, he’s never been married and has no kids, which makes me wonder what’s wrong with him. I laugh because I’m sure the same thought crossed his mind about me. I’m twenty-seven, never been in a serious relationship, and my family is well-known in this town for their money. But I’m ready to settle down and start a family, and live my dream life with someone who loves me wholeheartedly.

Instead of meeting at a fancy restaurant that leaves nothing but expectations, I chose a fun club that plays country music. Since the middle of nowhere Texas has limited options, it’s a popular place on the weekends.

As I put on red lipstick and smack my lips together, nervous jitters get the best of me, and I start doubting this. I slip on a slinky blouse and skirt, then put on my favorite pair of heels, giving me four extra inches since Noah’s over six feet tall. Before I leave, I take one last look in the mirror and somehow muster enough courage to walk out the door.

Once I’m in the parking lot of the bar, I pull out my phone and check the time. We agreed to meet around eight, so I send a message to let him know I’ve arrived.

The bouncer checks my ID at the door and allows me inside. Making my way to the bar, I save a seat for Noah, then order a cosmopolitan as I wait for him.

Time passes quickly, and as I finish my drink, I look down at my phone and see my message was read, but I have no reply. Perhaps he got caught up at the office, considering he’s somewhat high profile. Or he got lost. Or his phone died right after he read my message.

It’s plausible.

Just as I’m ordering my second drink and contemplating why he’s not here yet, a man plops down on the barstool next to me. A hopeful grin fills my face, but when I turn and realize it’s not Noah, my expression quickly fades.

“Is this seat reserved?” he asks with a thick Southern accent. His green eyes bore into me as he flashes a charming smile. Lifting his baseball cap, he runs his fingers through curly dark brown hair, and I can’t help but notice how attractive he is and how amazing he smells. When he licks his lips, I find myself staring, then wandering down to study the scruff on his chin. Damn.

He lifts his eyebrows, and I realize I never answered his question.

“Um, yes, it is,” I tell him, taking a sip of my drink, but he just shrugs.

“Darlin’, you’ve been sittin’ here for almost an hour drinkin’ alone. Doubt whoever’s supposed to be in this seat is showin’ up.”

I narrow my eyes. “Rude.”

“I’m not the rude one, sweetheart. I wouldn’t have stood you up. Trust me on that one.” He gives me a nod, then orders a beer. His confession causes my cheeks to heat and my heart to beat rapidly. This man is making me nervous as hell, so I try to focus on the cherry in my cosmo, hoping Noah’s not really standing me up. But if he is, maybe my night won’t be so bad after all.

“I’m sure he’s just running late and doesn’t have great reception,” I say, making excuses. Opening the app on my phone again, I find he still hasn’t replied.

“I’m Braxton,” he finally says. “And I’m buyin’ you a shot. Make it a double. Think ya need it.”

I shake my head. “No. It’s fine. I should probably go home.”

“You’re gonna let some asshole ruin your night? f**k him. If he can’t even give you the courtesy of meetin’ up with you, then he ain’t worth your damn time.”

A smile touches my lips. “Now I can drink to that.” Braxton hands me a double shot of tequila, and we clink our glasses together. I lick the salt, take the liquid gold, then hurry to put the lime in my mouth. Tequila gives me too much courage, and for that reason, I stopped drinking it. Mainly because it gets me in trouble.

The alcohol burns as it goes down, and Braxton shoots me a wink, then takes me by the hand. Before he can lead me out to the dance floor, I gulp the rest of my cosmo, and then we go.

“You never told me your name,” he whispers, placing his large hands tightly around my waist and pulling me close to his solid body. Considering he’s so tall, I’m happy I wore these heels.

“I’m Katarina, but everyone calls me Kat.”

“Kat? I like that. Meow.” He chuckles, holding me in his strong arms as we two-step around the room. Eventually, the song changes to a slower one, and when I look up into his green eyes, I feel the fire burning between us. As if an electrical current pulls us close, our lips crash together, and we kiss one another greedily. I know I shouldn’t do this, but for one night, I want to feel wanted by someone, especially somebody as sexy as Braxton. One-night stands aren’t my thing, but I’m thirty miles from home, and I’ve never seen him around before, so he can be my best-kept secret just this once.

One thing leads to another, and I become desperate for him. I feel like a love-sick teenager again as I tell him exactly what I want him to do to me.

“Seriously?” He nearly chokes upon hearing my words.

“Come home with me,” I tell him, allowing the tequila courage to take over. “I’ll get a cab.”

He agrees and follows me to one of the only cabs in the area that parks around the bars in town. Within twenty minutes, we’re dropped off at my house. We can’t keep our hands off one another, and as soon as we’re inside and the door closes, it’s like our clothes magically fall off. Braxton’s muscles cascade down his body, and he has one of those sexy V’s that leads straight to the full package. My eyes go wide, and he notices.

“It doesn’t bite,” he tells me. I grab him by the hand and lead him to the bedroom, not wanting to waste any time.

His lips paint across my skin, and soon he’s unwrapping a c****m and f*****g me so good I can no longer think of words—just emotions and sounds. For once, I let go. Enjoying myself, enjoying the way his d**k slams into me and fills me. We’re panting and moaning. I’m happy I don’t have many neighbors, though I’m sure the whole state of Texas can hear us f*****g. Braxton is soft and gentle but strong and rough all at the same time. I can’t get enough of him. Even as my o****m builds and spills over, I want more.

As soon as I come, he flips me over and digs his thumbs into my hips as he takes me from behind. Moments later, he’s exploding inside me, and the sound of his throaty moans as he comes is the sexiest sound in the world. We quickly clean up, then collapse on my bed where he holds me like we’ve been lovers for years when, in reality, we’ve only known each other for a few hours.

The spring morning comes early, and the sunlight peeking through my window wakes me. As my eyes flutter open, I realize my bare body has a strong arm wrapped around it. Realizing what I did—well, what the tequila made me do—somewhat freaks me the f**k out. Slowly, I slide out of my bed and try to sneak to the bathroom, but he stirs, causing me to freeze midstep.

“Kat?” he asks. “Where ya goin’?”

I pull the sheet from the bed and secure it around my body.

“Braxton,” I say, surprised I actually remembered his name. Memories from last night come back to me in snapshots as he lies completely n***d and confident in my bed. “You need to leave.”

He narrows his eyes at me. “Seriously?”

I suck in a deep breath, then release it. “Yes. Sorry. This was a total lapse of judgment on my part to which I blame my old friends tequila and vodka for my impulsiveness.”

“Oooookay then,” he says, not even hesitating. I know he’s pissed as he walks n***d toward the living room where our clothes lie scattered across the floor. I hear him talking on the phone and asking someone to pick him up.

“What’s the address here?” he asks loudly, and I tell him as I slip on a T-shirt and shorts.

Within ten minutes, the front door swings open and then closes. I pick up my phone to delete the stupid dating app that got me into this mess and hope no one saw him leaving. Rumors fly rampant around here, and for once, I’d like to keep last night to myself.