Rocking the Cowboy

  Table of Contents

  Blurb

  Sneak Peek

  Dedication | Acknowledgments

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  About the Author

  Coming in September 2018

  Don’t Miss Dreamspun Desires!

  Visit Dreamspinner Press

  Copyright

  Rocking the Cowboy

  By Skylar M. Cates

  Opposites who go together like country and rock and roll.

  Long before he was a superstar, Remy Sean had a secret crush on Jed Riley. But Jed sees Remy as a spoiled pop rocker and an extension of his father’s control. Still, Jed is willing to let Remy hide from the press on his ranch—but only as a way to get his father out of his life and business for good.

  Used to being admired and fawned over, Remy keenly feels the sting of Jed’s dismissal. Can he make Jed see him as more than a pain in the ass? Or is Jed too tangled up in his ranch to see past his old hurt?

  Jed doesn’t believe someone desired by so many fans could want him, a simple cowboy. But Remy is determined to change Jed’s mind and steal his heart….

  “See you in the morning. Bright and early?” Jed asked as they got to his door.

  “I expect a wakeup call,” Remy teased just for fun. “But I promise to not be naked this time.”

  There was a long pause.

  “What if naked is how I want you?” Jed said gruffly.

  He cupped the side of Remy’s face. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, he stepped closer. And closer.

  With his mouth hovering above Remy’s, Jed finally leaned in and gave him a hard tug forward so their mouths met and Remy rocked against Jed’s chest.

  Their lips touched, and Remy opened his mouth. Jed tasted good, faintly of cinnamon from his Fireball shot, making Remy’s nerves spark. He arched forward and brushed his tongue at Jed’s. With a moan, Jed slipped his arms around him. His lips were hungry on Remy’s. Warm and needy. It was a hell of a kiss, a knee-weakening kiss, impossible to resist.

  To my readers, old and new, because everything magical happens when readers take a leap of faith.

  Acknowledgments

  MY deepest gratitude to the Dreamspinner staff, especially Desi, for her astute insights.

  And a huge thank-you to Kelly, for her immeasurable help on every step of this journey.

  Prologue

  REMY knew the crowd watched him, and he liked it.

  With a seductive sway of his hips and strum of his guitar, he began to play. In the first notes of his song, he nailed the guitar riff; despite the complex chords, his fingers flew.

  They were shrieking and holding up signs, and the screaming was so loud, Remy wondered how they could hear him play over the sound of their voices, but that concern didn’t stop him. The electric hum of instruments gave him an instant rush, no matter how many times he’d performed.

  He rutted against the metal base of the guitar as he swung his long dirty-blond hair, letting it caress his cheeks.

  Yeah, fuck, yeah.

  Pumping his hips to the beat, he strutted to center stage and began to sing. Young girls in the first row—and a few boys—had glitter paint on their faces. And they were crying, even as they sang along with Remy. The fans in the front were always the worshipful ones, while the crowd in the cheap seats always struck Remy as a murkier bunch, there to hear the music but also to escape from their mundane lives and be wild for a night. He smelled the air, tinged with pot and beer and expectation.

  Arching his back, he raised his arms high, as if about to take a leap into the audience. For them, he put everything into his high note, ending the first song. His hair was tousled, and sweat covered him, but Remy kept his arms raised until the end.

  “Hello, Athens! We’re so stoked to be ending our European tour here with all of you. It’s a hot night, isn’t it? Let’s make it hotter still.” Remy gave his thousand-watt grin. “Are you ready? Can you handle this?”

  Their answering roar exhilarated him, and Remy sucked it in, getting even more pumped. He was going to give a fucking great show tonight; he could feel it. The world was nothing but the glitter of colored lights and the sound of his amps.

  His drummer, Dave, was right on cue, heavy on the stick, matching Remy’s dancing. The hot stage lights were in his eyes, but he had done this so many times, he didn’t have to see. He sauntered toward his drummer, and they battled it out between guitar and drums. The stage vibrated under his boots. And Remy stomped, stirring the energy. The crowd went fucking nuts when the drum beat gave way to the notes of “Never You,” one of Remy’s best-known hits.

  They played the first set, and it all felt normal. The fans were screaming, jumping up and down. Remy struck an exaggerated note, shaking his ass in his leather pants as he rocked the hell out of the chorus. This was his music. This was what he lived for. Remy used his whammy bar to make his guitar sound like a sad, final howl. His drummer tossed his sticks as if giving up the fight, as they did night after night.

  As Remy started the next song, ready to bring out the backup dancers and really get into the music, a shattering crash, louder than his pounding speakers, made him glance at the audience. The crowd appeared to part straight down the middle. One of the fences separating the good seats from the lawn had collapsed. A battle cry sounded, and a small shiver went through Remy. The throng of security moved toward the area, trying to push the exuberant fans back. But they wanted to come closer. Elbows. Shouts. They kept coming.

  Remy stuck to the routine at first, closing his eyes and concentrating on being pitch-perfect. Security had this. That was why he paid them ridiculous amounts of money. The main thing was to never stop the show. Since he was a kid, he’d never quit. He sang the chorus, and the notes sounded right. His voice was clearer and stronger than ever.

  Then he looked up.

  Some fans climbed the stairs that led to the stage with security unable to deal with the numbers. Others, caught up in violence, began to throw beer bottles and chairs at one another, smashing as much as possible. Dave stopped drumming abruptly and fled the stage, and his bass player began yelling at him.

  Remy stumbled on a note. A loud thud to his left made him turn to see a rushing wave of people. His fans. Only they looked malicious and hungry, like animals ready to sink their teeth into their prey. Remy stood in the spotlight, knowing they were coming for him. A combination of shock and raw fear froze him in place. Now he could see their eyes and their faces glazed with desire and intent—to touch him, consume him.

  And everything changed.

  Chapter One

  THE waiting was the worst. It rarely meant good news. Jed pressed against the stall, his hands balling into fists.

  “She going to make it?” he asked the vet bluntly.

  Jed’s clothes were caked with dirt and grime, but he only focused on Elliot’s answer. There were few things Jed dreaded more than a sick animal.

  “The worst has passed, and she’s no longer critical. We need to be careful of colic over the next week. I’ll drop by again to recheck her for that.”

  Relieved, Jed scuffed the side of his boot on the ground and simply nodde
d. The weariness he’d been carrying began to ease. He took off his hat and pushed away the hair plastered to his forehead. The barn was hot as hell. “How’s the little guy doing?”

  The newborn colt blinked rapidly at him, as if he understood. The colt had attempted to stand, shifting its neck, head, and feet, but had failed the first try. He made it to a wobbly upright position on the second.

  Elliot gave him the thumbs-up, and with the crisis over, Jed walked Elliot to his pickup.

  “That thing is a filthy dirty mess. You should clean your truck.”

  “I was a little too busy saving your horse.”

  Jed shook his head. “Bull. It’s a damn mess every time I see you.” Then he stuck out a hand. “But… er… thank you.”

  Elliot laughed and bid him goodbye.

  Jed massaged the hard knot in his left shoulder. If only he didn’t hurt all over, he might enjoy the quiet moment of victory. They hadn’t lost Sage, his sorrel mare, or her foal to a hard birth. Jed had owned many horses over the years, but none of them had Sage’s heart. Her colt was sure to be something.

  After stripping down to his underwear in the mudroom, Jed hurried to take a lukewarm shower. He dressed in worn flannel and a pair of light blue jeans and then went into his small kitchen to make breakfast. Cooking relaxed him. He liked the process of bringing ingredients together. Some people had church or a library; Jed had his kitchen. He decided to make something easy today—just fried eggs and hash browns. Simple, but good. He couldn’t resist adding a few fresh herbs from his garden. He crumbled them over the top, admiring the color it gave his dish. Sure, nobody shared his meals with him, but he could still make it pretty, couldn’t he? Scraping a chair closer to the table, Jed set about eating. Unlike cooking, eating gave him little pleasure. Shoveling the food into his mouth, Jed quickly finished his breakfast. His mind had gone empty; it was enough to be relieved about the colt.

  A low whine got his attention as Hagrid poked his nose at Jed’s thigh. The old mutt had been snoozing in Jed’s bed while he had been out in the barn. Hagrid liked to sprawl out in the middle of the mattress, lying on his back with his paws in the air in a dead-man pose.

  “What’s up, boy? Want some of my breakfast? I’m not surprised the smell of my eggs woke you. Sorry to tell you, I ate ’em.”

  Hagrid tilted his head, considering. He was probably wondering why Jed hadn’t fed him closer to their usual schedule.

  Jed had found Hagrid in the woods on a cold October day a few years ago. Mud coating his fur, his ribs sticking out from hunger, his sudden appearance had stopped Jed short. Hagrid was fierce-looking, not a dog to approach without hesitation, but then Jed had met Hagrid’s eyes. So kind. So impossibly sad. He’d taken Hagrid home and never regretted it. Who knew what Hagrid had suffered during those early years? Jed gave him the life he deserved, and in return, Jed had a best friend. Hell, in some ways, his dog was his only friend. It was an isolated life on the ranch, except for Elliot and the few hired men that Jed could afford to keep in the bunkhouse during peak season. With his mom and sister gone from Diamond Creek, Jed rattled around the main house.

  “Don’t worry, I won’t let your lazy ass starve.” He went to his pantry and opened a new bag of dog chow. “See? Beef flavor. And I have some bacon in the fridge.”

  At the word bacon, Hagrid’s eyes glistened. Well, at least he had one fan of his cooking, after all.

  Before more time got away from him, Jed went to face more aggravation—his bills. He was a creature of habit. He needed sleep, but it wasn’t even noon, and just because he’d spent hours in the barn did not mean he got a day off. Not when he had more work to do, more problems to fix. With a yawn, Jed tried to make the best of it, turning on his radio before putting a pillow on the back of his office chair.

  “Pop music,” Jed said with disgust and turned the station to some old-fashioned country. It must have been his cleaning lady’s daughter who changed the station. Since eleven-year-old Hayley was too young to stay at home alone, Jed was fine with Amy bringing her along, but he would have to ask Hayley to stop switching his radio station to Top 40 and his television to VH1. Or at least put it back when she was done.

  Despite the pillow, his shoulder still ached as he sat at his desk. Not that it was anything new. He usually ached somewhere; that was ranch life.

  After hours of slogging through the numbers and having a long-term customer not return his call, Jed could feel his patience slipping. He hated number crunching. It helped to pause and gaze at the pictures of his horses on the wall. He had all of them there—dating back from his brief rodeo days all the way to Sage—to remind him why he did the more boring, responsible tasks. How anyone could fail to appreciate the magnificent horses was beyond Jed’s understanding. Like his father. How could Buddy see them run and not feel something deep inside? Jed never tired of the horses’ power and grace. Wanting to sell off some acres of the property on the south side, Jed had a plan to use the proceeds to get more top-quality broodmares like Sage. But he had a problem—the land wasn’t his to sell. Not technically. It was Buddy’s land.

  “Speak of the devil,” Jed said, his mouth twisting, seeing the number on his phone. He thought about not answering. Whatever Buddy wanted, it wouldn’t be good. Buddy never did anything without a motive. What a terrible thought to have about his own father, but it was true.

  With his stomach souring, he straightened in his chair, his body tense. “Hello?”

  “’Lo, son.”

  “Buddy,” he said coolly. Jed always called him by his first name. Nothing else. Buddy didn’t deserve the title of dad. “What do you want?”

  “Just calling to see how things are going. Talked to Melanie the other day. I spoke to the littlest one too. Emily?”

  “Emma.”

  “Yeah, what a doll! I really want to have her visit Los Angeles. I told her I could take her to Universal Studios. She’d like that, right?”

  “Sure. And nothing else is new, Buddy?” Jed prompted. The favor, whatever the hell Buddy wanted, was coming, so Jed might as well speed it along. He reckoned Buddy had deeper motive for this call. It wasn’t as if Buddy actually cared.

  “Well… since you asked. I got a client. You met him when you were younger. Remy Sean? The pop star? Everybody knows Remy.” Buddy chortled. “Anyhow, let’s just say he’s gotten into a bit of a jam and needs a place to lay low, someplace quiet. I can’t say the particulars.”

  Remy Sean—he probably got into drugs or trashed a hotel or something. Jed kept silent, let the old man talk. His eyes fell on the books. He could demand his dad pay him some money for hosting the star, or even better, Jed could try and buy his father out, finally. The ranch had been in Buddy’s family for generations. But while Jed loved every inch of the brown and rugged land, Buddy had quickly traded it for the glitz and glamour of Hollywood.

  “I’d pay, of course, for your hands and stable manager to take a quick vacation—anything to make certain he has privacy while he’s there.”

  Jed didn’t bother to tell his father he’d let his longtime stable manager go and taken over the job himself. He didn’t owe Buddy any information about the ranch the man had always carelessly neglected. All Jed had ever wanted was to do the job his home required.

  “I would be willing to give you anything you want,” Buddy interrupted Jed’s thoughts, as if he’d read his mind.

  Forget it. It still wasn’t worth it. At a younger age, he’d begged Buddy to sell, but for some screwed-up reason, Buddy always put him off. Jed didn’t want to help Buddy. As for Remy Sean, Jed didn’t know much about him, except that Remy was “the one.” If Buddy had never discovered Remy Sean, maybe he would have returned to the ranch.

  Jed’s jaw tightened. “He can’t stay here. I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”

  “Jeez, you’re a hard son of a bitch,” Buddy replied. “When did you become this angry a person? The boy I remember was so good and sweet. Remember that one time you and me wen
t to town for pizza and you only wanted pineapple and I got them to—”

  “Look, I gotta go. Talk to you soon.”

  Jed ended the call. How dare Buddy try and reminisce with him? Not when Buddy deserted their family. The hell with him. Dealing with Buddy always made Jed a little crazy. Buddy came and went, while Jed had been the one holding his mother and sister together. He just wanted Buddy out of his way.

  He stared down at his hands. Rancher’s hands. They were larger than most, palms callused. Jed’s nails were short and square, and the skin of one index finger puckered with an old scar from a wire fence. Like the rest of him, nothing was soft or refined. He wasn’t the kind of man his father wanted to be. Buddy liked nice, fancy things. He kept his hands manicured and tender.

  John “Buddy” Riley was charming and everybody’s best friend, until he wasn’t. Jed had learned the hard way not to trust his father’s words and to build a barrier around his heart. Sometimes he wondered if he’d done too good a job protecting himself. He rarely let anybody in.

  Thinking of the chaos and damage Buddy always left, Jed dialed Melanie to warn her.

  His sister’s cheerful hello filled the speaker. He quickly told her the situation.

  “Let Buddy find another person to do his bidding. I don’t owe him a thing. And watch out that he doesn’t call you next.”

  “Me?” Melanie’s rich laughter rang out. “Where would I put Remy Sean? In my bathtub? The girls take up every inch of space in our apartment. And I wish you’d let go of some of the old anger. The only person hurt by carrying it is you.”

  “I’m not hurt. Don’t worry.”

  “Okay, sure. You have everything under control. Like always. And I know how much you hate when I fuss over you.”

  That was true enough. Jed figured he could handle his own life.