Parading the Cowboy Billionaire
Read the first two chapters below. Preorder PARADING THE COWBOY BILLIONAIRE here. Coming December 22.
CHAPTER ONE:
Cayden Chappell pulled up to the farmhouse where his brother lived now. The new sign had weathered its first rainstorm, and the whole state of Kentucky had come through the weekend’s downpour just fine.
Cayden felt like he’d had that storm cloud raining on him for almost three months now. The invisible weight he carried on his shoulders made him sigh as he got out of his truck. He knew where it came from, but he didn’t know how to shrug off Virginia Winters.
She’d captured him completely, and while their relationship hadn’t been traditional before, it was better than none at all.
He pushed her out of his mind, though he knew she’d just come back. She always did, and Cayden had lost way too much sleep to thoughts of the woman he’d only kissed once.
Once.
She shouldn’t have such sway over him, and yet, she did.
He obviously hadn’t made that big of an impression on her, because she’d never called him after she’d returned from her Caribbean vacation two months ago.
He went up the steps and rang the doorbell at the farmhouse, listening to it ring on the other side of the door. It sang through the country stillness too, and Cayden gazed out over the pasture that sat in the front left corner of the ranch. The grass was starting to green now that it was almost April, and Beth had two horses there, their heads down as they grazed.
There was something peaceful and serene about it that called to Cayden’s soul. As the public relations manager, he didn’t spend nearly enough time with the horses at Bluegrass Ranch. He could spend whole days in his office, in the administration building where few people normally came.
The only time the administration building was busy was during one of their events—the yearlings sale or their auctions. Then, the whole ranch bustled with activity, and Cayden was the one responsible for all of that.
He needed to get outside more, and he wandered away from the door and toward the railing on the far side of the porch. He’d just leaned against the railing when Beth said, “Cayden?”
“Mm.” He continued to gaze at the pasture for another moment before he turned to his sister-in-law. Beth wore a denim skirt that narrowed at her knees and a black blouse with brightly colored flowers on it. She was exactly the kind of woman Trey should be with, and Cayden smiled at her.
“Sorry. I got lost looking at your horses. I need to get outside more.” He’d finally finished wrapping up the horses-of-all-ages sale that had taken place at the ranch last month, and he was ready for a tropical vacation now too. It would be hot in Kentucky soon enough, and then he’d be wishing for cooler mornings like this one, with plenty of breezy afternoons.
“Those are actually Trey’s,” she said. “He brought them over last night.”
Cayden crossed the distance between them. “You told him I don’t want to go to this, right?”
“Repeatedly,” she murmured without looking at him. “He has it in his head that if you two will just get yourself into the same room together, you’ll remember why you liked each other so much.”
“I don’t need a reminder,” Cayden said darkly. He’d never thought of himself as a growling, moody man, but since Ginny’s disappearance from his life, he’d certainly become exactly that.
“Maybe she does,” Beth said. “There’s nothing wrong with reminding her of certain things.”
Cayden pressed his teeth together and kept the words he wanted to bark at her contained. He’d told two people what Wendy Winters had said to him. Exactly two—Lawrence and Trey. Neither had bothered him much about calling Ginny or trying to breathe new life into a relationship that had gone quiet.
Until now. Now, Trey seemed to think it was his job to make sure Cayden embarrassed himself at every turn.
“If I’m so forgettable,” Cayden said. “Will the reminder really matter?”
“You’re not forgettable,” Beth said. “Come on in now. TJ wants to ask you somethin’ before we go.” She turned and went into the house, and Cayden had no choice but to follow her. He wouldn’t disappoint TJ if he could avoid doing so. The child had some sort of magic about him that made everyone bend to his will.
“He’s here,” she called as she went past the comfortable couches in the living room. The farmhouse had huge windows flanking both sides of the front door, letting in plenty of light. Cayden had never given much thought to where he lived, but as he’d gotten to know Ginny and seen her house, he’d been stewing on it more and more.
He wasn’t even sure why.
She hadn’t called him. He’d been very busy with the horses-of-all-ages sale, sure. He hadn’t asked her to stay away, though. He hadn’t given her any indication that he didn’t have time for her.
Not only that, but another month had passed since that event, and she still hadn’t called. He hadn’t called her, because she’d been prepping for the Sweet Rose Gems & Gin event.
His mind seized on that thought, but he couldn’t examine it before TJ yelled, “Cayden!” from the kitchen.
The little boy came running through the doorway Beth had just gone through, and Cayden braced himself to receive the kid. He had a battery that never seemed to run out, and Cayden had seen him trailing behind Trey several times. He’d think TJ had gotten tired, but it was never true. He’d pick up the pace a moment later or see a dog and go chasing after it. Or Trey would say something to him, and he’d perk right up, running to catch Trey and get swung up onto a horse, where his face would glow like a lantern.
The little boy had a bright personality and a shock of dark hair that made him look like Trey’s son, even though he wasn’t.
“Heya, boy,” Cayden said, his soul warming with the hug of the smaller human. “Your momma said you had something to ask me.”
“Yeah.” TJ released the tight grip around Cayden’s neck and pulled back. “My teacher asked if anyone had a mom or daddy who knew how to make banners, and I was talkin’ to Trey and he says you do.”
“Said,” Beth said from a few feet away. “Trey said you do.”
Cayden grinned at TJ and then Beth. “I do know how to make banners,” he said. “I know lots of people who make banners, actually.”
“She wants to talk to you, then,” TJ said. “I guess she needs some help with it.”
“Okay,” Cayden said, not sure what he should do here. He looked at Beth, who rolled her eyes.
“Trey can give her your phone number,” Beth said. “If that’s okay.”
“Is it okay?” TJ asked, his eyes bright. He started playing with Cayden’s collar, a hint of nerves in his movement.
“Sure,” Cayden said. “Why not? What’s her name?”
“Miss Robertson,” TJ said. He wiggled, and Cayden put him on the ground just as Trey came in the back door.
“You’re late,” Beth said, and Trey just smiled at her, grabbed her around the waist, and kissed her. She giggled and made a lame attempt to push him away. Cayden couldn’t help staring, and he felt bad for doing so once his brother looked at him.
Cayden was three years older than Trey, and three years younger than Spur. They were both cut from similar cloth—a rough, scratchy cloth. They didn’t speak as often as the younger brothers. They held their emotions tight.
Blaine had the biggest heart and showed the most emotion. Duke, Ian, and Conrad were the loudest, always jockeying for a position of attention in the family. Lawrence was a mix of Cayden, Trey, and the younger boys, and Cayden got along really well with him.
Cayden felt like a black sheep in the Chappell family. He wasn’t overly emotional, but he did feel things deeply. He didn’t have to be the center of attention, but he didn’t mind speaking his opinions either. He wasn’t a natural-born leader, but he did possess a level of charisma that made him the natural choice for the public face of the ranch, something he’d been doing for twenty years now.
Trey had told him that he was the brother TJ talked about the most. He asked when Cayden could come over, and whenever Beth and Trey were going out, TJ asked if Cayden could watch him.
Cayden wasn’t sure if that made him likable or pathetic.
“Do you have the invite?” Trey asked, stepping around Beth to the fridge.
“You need to go change,” she said. “We’re eating there.”
“I have the invitation,” Cayden said, reaching into his inside jacket pocket. “You guys can just take it.”
“It says right on it that the person it was sent to has to be there. Guests are encouraged, with that person.”
Cayden had read it a hundred times. He knew what the postcard said. When he’d gotten it at the homestead, he’d been two seconds away from tossing it in the trash. Trey had seen it, and since it had a glinting diamond taking up the entire front, he’d grabbed it.
He and Beth were in the market for new wedding rings. Rather, he and Beth were going to buy their first wedding rings. Since they’d gotten married last fall in an unconventional way, they didn’t have a lot of the same things a more traditional couple would.
Cayden could see how much they loved each other, though. He wanted that same kind of giggling, doe-eyed woman in his life. He’d used to not care if he had a girlfriend or not. He was focused on his career, and as one of the only brothers with a college education, he was determined to prove to everyone that it mattered. He wanted to matter.
“Maybe once this is over, you two will be able to get your schedule to line up,” Beth said, and Cayden’s mind returned to that thought he’d stalled on before TJ had distracted him.
“I don’t know,” he said. “Is texting hard?”
“Have you texted her?” Trey challenged.
“Go change your clothes,” Beth said, her irritation plain on her face. Trey nodded and headed down the hall, leaving Cayden alone with Beth and TJ.
He didn’t want to hear more about what could maybe happen with Ginny at the event. He met Beth’s eye and said, “I’ll go wait outside,” he said. They’d asked him to drive and everything, and somehow Cayden had said yes.
He went back the way he’d come while Beth said something to TJ. Several minutes later, everyone was in the truck and Cayden was following his map to her father’s house. She ran TJ inside and returned to the truck less than a minute later.
“Ready,” she said, exhaling heavily.
“Let’s do it,” Trey said.
Cayden could make the drive to Sweet Rose Whiskey in his sleep, and he let Trey and Beth talk amongst themselves as he navigated them across town. The parking lot was fairly full already, as the event had started about ten minutes ago. It was an open house, so it wasn’t like they’d needed to be there exactly on time.
He turned right and went toward the huge field adjacent to the lot, as he drove a big truck and could handle the rougher road. He parked and handed the postcard to Trey, who promptly pushed it right back at him.
“You’re coming in,” he said. “Just get us through the door.”
“No,” Beth said. “He’s coming in, and he’s staying. He’s our ride.”
Cayden wanted to argue with her, but he said nothing. He got out of the truck and took a deep breath. The evening had started to darken and cool, and Cayden loved the slower, quieter evenings in the country.
He knew what the event inside would be like, and he inhaled the calm before the storm. Before he knew it, he was stepping up to a gentleman at the door and handing him his postcard.
“Evening, Mister Chappell,” the man said. He looked up and met Cayden’s eyes, and Cayden’s breath stuck in his throat. He knew this man. He’d parked his truck at Ginny’s New Year’s Eve party.
“Evening,” he managed to say.
“Two guests?” he asked, glancing at Trey and Beth.
“Yes, please,” Cayden said, slipping into his more formal personality. He hated that, and he pulled himself right back to his cowboy roots. If Wendy Winters was going to think him unworthy of her daughter, he might as well act like the heathen she thought he was.
Cayden had never been much of a rule-breaker, though, and his natural instinct was to please people. His mother. His teachers. Spur. Ginny.
Wendy.
He wondered if Ginny’s mother had said anything to her, and he almost laughed. Of course she had. Wendy wasn’t the type of woman who would hold back.
“We have drinks straight ahead,” the man said, and Cayden blinked to focus back on the conversation. “Once in the first room, you’ll find the food. Beyond that are the gems. Have a great evening.”
“Thank you,” Cayden murmured, and he went first into the building. He hadn’t been inside this one, and the hallway in front of him was long and dark. It opened up into a cozy room with a western theme. Dark brown leather couches dotted the room, with black and white cow-patterned rugs in front of them. A longhorn skull sat above the fireplace, and all of the tables looked handmade from hewn logs. A pair cowboy boots acted as a lamp base on the light fixture closest to him, and Cayden reached out to touch it.
Cowboy boots. He wore a pair right now, and he was actually surprised Ginny’s mother would allow such décor anywhere on her property.
“Sir,” someone said, and he turned toward a man who held a long tray with several glasses on it. “Would you like to try one of our gins?”
“I would,” Beth said, stepping to Cayden’s side. “Tell me what you’ve got.”
He smiled at her like he was the happiest man on earth. “Down here is our classic gin,” he said. “It’s got that juniper taste you associate with gin. Next to it is our orange blossom gin. It’s got the strongest citrus flavor out of any of our fruit-flavored gins.” He continued to outline the alcohol on the tray, and as Cayden wasn’t a fan of whiskey or gin or any alcohol really, he declined them all.
Beth selected the orange blossom, and Trey picked up the one with more anise in it. He took one sip and made a face. “This is why I don’t drink.”
The waiter had already moved away, thankfully, and Trey simply put his glass on the table next to those cowboy boots. Beth nursed hers as they looked around the room and then went through the doorway and into the next one.
This room was twice as big as the one with the cocktails, and there were far less people. Apparently, the drinks were more alluring than the food. Not to Cayden, and he took whatever the first man had on his tray and popped the whole thing into his mouth. Something salty and vinegary mixed with the beef, and then a bright pop of cilantro exploded in his mouth.
“Tartar,” he said. “That was good.”
“The chef made it with farm-raised cattle right here in Kentucky,” the man said, beaming as if he personally owned the farm.
Cayden wanted to pull him aside and ask him if he really was that happy to be working here tonight. He suspected the Winters paid very well, and that they insisted their people wear smiles for miles.
Instead, he picked up another wafer with the beef tartar on it and threw it back as if he was eating oysters.
He hadn’t seen Ginny yet, and some of the tension he’d been harboring in his chest and shoulders dissipated. She’d likely be in the gem room, where all the goods were. Sweet Rose had partnered with Down Home Jewelry for the event, as both were local Dreamsville corporations that had expanded to worldwide giants while maintaining their Kentucky roots.
Cayden drifted away from Beth and Trey and toward another tray of food. Then another. If he ate enough, coming here tonight would be worth the risk to his heart. As if on cue, it skipped a beat, and he reached for another Southwest eggroll.
Ginny had pulled out all the stops for tonight’s event. Low music played in this room, and there were multiple places to sit and relax. Talk and get food and order additional drinks. Nothing ever ran out and while Cayden had seen behind the curtain at an event like this, he suspected most of the people here had not.
Trey appeared in front of him. “We’re going in. You’ll be okay here?”
“Yes,” Cayden said, biting back on the sarcastic remark that popped into his head. He watched Trey and Beth duck through the door at the back of the room, and he took another crabcake when the tray came around again.
He’d just finished it when Ginny exited the room where Trey had gone.
Cayden got to his feet without even knowing that he had. He soaked in the sight of Virginia Winters, sparks flying through his whole body.
Beth had been wrong; the reminder wasn’t for Ginny. It was for him.
Go talk to her, he commanded himself. He had to talk to her tonight. He had to explain that he’d gone silent because of her mother.
He couldn’t believe he’d cared what Wendy Winters thought of him. He couldn’t believe he’d given up the curvy, gorgeous woman currently smiling at a couple of men. Ginny wore an elegant off-white dress with plenty of lace everywhere. Her dark hair had been piled up on top of her head and secured with glinting gems that probably cost more than most people made in their entire lifetimes.
Her heels made her legs tight and slender, and Cayden’s mouth turned dry.
It was her eyes that always captured him, and as she laughed and looked his way, he caught sight of those navy blue pools that pulled him in every time.
He knew the moment she saw and recognized him. The smile slipped from her face, and her eyes widened.
One hand flew to her mouth, which had dropped open, and then lowered to press against her chest. Her dress had wide straps that went over her shoulders and left a lot of skin to be observed.
Cayden couldn’t move, though he wanted to. He could at least wave or something to indicate to her that he’d seen her. If he could just get his blood to stop burning him up from the inside out, he’d go talk to her.
Ginny had frozen too, and then she seemed to shake herself. Her masks flew into place, and she took a step toward him—and collided with a waiter carrying a full tray of sea bass and tomato canapés.
CHAPTER TWO:
Virginia Winters had ruined many dresses in her lifetime. None as spectacularly and as publicly as the Victoria James gown she currently wore. She never wore a formal dress more than once, but that didn’t mean she wanted tomatoes, balsamic, and fish juice embedded in the lace.
She certainly didn’t want it to happen in front of anyone, least of all Cayden Chappell, who now loomed above her as if he’d sprinted across the drawing room to be there for her when she first opened her eyes and realized what had happened.
What had happened was that she’d been so entranced by his presence that she hadn’t looked at anyone or anything but him. She’d run into a waiter carrying a full tray of canapés, causing both of them to tumble to the floor. She’d shown too much leg to everyone within the near vicinity, and she’d ruined her twenty-thousand-dollar dress.
Her hair brushed her face, and she realized she’d ruined that too. Embarrassment heated her whole body, and she watched Cayden’s mouth move but no sound come out. Around her, everyone seemed to be looking at her with equally alarmed expressions, and Ginny wanted to tell them to back up and let her breathe.
Cayden reached out and touched her face, brushing that errant hair back. “…can you hear me?” Cayden’s voice finally broke through the haze in her mind.
“Yes,” she said, and sound rushed at her from every side. She couldn’t grasp onto any one thought, and her mind raced through what she should do now. Change her clothes and come back to the party? Call it a night?
Just get out of here, she thought, and when Cayden asked, “Can I help you up, Ginny?” she put her hand in his, sparks flying up her arm and into her shoulder.
She looked at him, and so much was said between them. Her chest pinched, though, because he hadn’t called.
She managed to get to her feet, pull down her dress, and wipe back her hair.
“Which door?” Cayden asked her, his voice low and meant only for her. She could still hear her name coming from his mouth, and he’d spoken it with a great deal of care.
“Straight ahead,” she said, nodding to the door dozens of paces away. If she could just make it there, she could figure out what to do. “I’m sorry,” she tossed over her shoulder to the waiter still trying to clean up the things she’d spilled.
Cayden kept the pace brisk, and Ginny pushed to keep up with him. “I feel so stupid,” she muttered, the feeling intensifying when he didn’t answer. Maybe he hadn’t heard her.
Yeah, she thought dryly. Like all those times you thought that maybe he’d forgotten your phone number.
Or that he’d gotten a new phone.
Then had a complete memory lapse and couldn’t remember where she lived and worked.
In her most desperate moments, she’d even started to think he’d been in a terrible accident and was in a coma in a nearby hospital.
Anything to not have to face the fact that he’d kissed her, wished her well on vacation, and then dropped her without another word.
He twisted the doorknob and let her go through first. Ginny immediately kicked off her heels, because one of her ankles was throbbing from her fall. Her palms stung, and everything felt out of place.
She made it to a small settee from the 1600s that had been reupholstered in the ugliest fabric on the planet. Her mother loved it, but Ginny did not, so it got stuck in here. If Mother wanted it, she should take it to the mansion where she lived alone.
Ginny was so tired of being alone.
Her emotions stormed, and before she could contain it, a sob wrenched itself from her throat. She lifted her foot to her knee and started massaging her ankle, though it wasn’t hurt that badly.
“Ginny,” Cayden said. “Can I get you anything? A drink. Some medication.” He actually looked around like this storage room would have anything like that. It didn’t look like a storage room, so she could understand his desire, she supposed.
“No,” she said, looking down at her stained dress. The scent of fish hit her squarely in the nose, and a fresh wave of tears got triggered.
“Sweetheart,” he said softly, coming closer to her.
“Don’t you dare call me that,” she said, lifting her eyes to his. She was so tired of being so proper all the time. She wanted to rage and scream. She wanted to tell him what she really thought of his behavior. Then, she wanted to eat ice cream and tell her dogs all about it, probably while she cried.
She stood, raising herself to her full height, though she was nowhere near as tall as him. “You have a lot of nerve, Mister Chappell, coming here.”
“I got an invitation for this event.”
“You never called.” She folded her arms and fixed him with a hard stare.
He glared right back at her. “Last time I checked, phones make outbound calls too.” He took a step toward her.
“I wasn’t going to call someone who wasn’t interested,” she said.
“Neither was I.”
They stared at one another, and Ginny’s anger started to ebb away. “What happened?” she asked.
Cayden opened his mouth to say something, then promptly bit it closed again. She’d never known him to keep his mouth shut when he had something to say. He’d told her multiple times that he was interested in her, and that he wanted their relationship to be more than him escorting her to fancy parties.
He looked away, the indecision plain on his face despite the low lighting in the room. Watching him, she could feel his tender heart and his sexy vulnerability. She tasted him on her lips again, something that had been haunting her since their New Year’s kiss.
“Let me tell you how it looks from my end,” she said, her voice powerful but not loud. “You came to my New Year’s Eve party. We danced and laughed. We kissed, and it was amazing. Then you left, and I went on vacation. When I got back, you didn’t call. The one time we spoke, you said you were worried about Trey, the Sweetheart Classic, and the horses-of-all-ages sale at the ranch.”
She stopped and took a long breath, blowing it out slowly as if she were doing one of her yoga exercises. “I figured you were quite busy, so I left you alone, thinking you’d call when things wrapped up. You didn’t.”
Familiar nerves ran through her. Ginny had grown up with a cruel father and a proper mother, and she knew what inadequacy felt like. She’d been inadequate since the moment of her birth, and it was something she had not overcome yet.
With Cayden, though…he’d always made her feel like royalty, like her life was a gift to him personally. She hadn’t realized how much she’d needed that—needed him—until he was suddenly gone.
“I apologize,” he said stiffly, still not looking at her.
“You apologize?” She took several quick steps toward him and touched his chest. “Look at me.”
He swung his head toward her, but ducked it, not truly meeting her gaze.
“You don’t say, ‘I apologize.’ That’s something I say.”
“I don’t know what you want from me,” he said.
“I want the truth.” She pressed her palm against his chest again, not really pushing him, but needing to get his attention somehow. “Tell me what happened.”
He lifted his eyes to hers, anger and danger there. “I don’t want to tell you.”
“If you met someone else, just say so.”
“I didn’t.”
“You broke your phone, then.”
“No.”
Ginny’s desperation spiraled out of control, and she couldn’t stop herself from looking at his mouth. Oh, that mouth. It had claimed her so completely, and she couldn’t comprehend what could’ve happened to drive him away.
He’d kissed her like no man ever had, and Ginny wanted him to do it again right now.
Without thinking or second-guessing herself, Ginny put her hands on his shoulders and tipped up onto her toes. She pressed her mouth to his and kissed him, a sob working its way through her stomach.
He stood very still for a moment, then two, then his hands ran up her arms and into her hair. A growl started somewhere in his throat, and his mouth softened, receiving hers and kissing her back.
The rough version of Cayden disappeared after a few seconds, and he turned the kiss sweet and sensual, dragging it on and on until he finally pulled away, his chest heaving as he breathed hard.
Her heartbeat sprinted in her chest, and she couldn’t open her eyes and look at him. If this was all she got of Cayden Chappell, she wanted it to end with a kiss like this. One filled with passion and yet respect, with love and desire, and with all the tenderness of a man who cared about her.
She dropped her hands from his face and opened her eyes, and he cleared his throat and stepped back. She wasn’t going to apologize, because she wasn’t sorry for what had just happened.
“The only other thing I could come up with was that you’d been in a terrible accident and had been in a coma the last few months.” Her voice hardly sounded like hers, especially at the end when her emotions got the best of her.
“Ginny,” he whispered, stepping into her personal space again and gathering her right against his chest.
“Here you are,” she said. “Obviously not in a coma.” She wanted to push him again, but instead, she sank into him. He smelled like leather and horses, sunshine and freshly laundered cotton. Blast Olli for her perfect male scents.
“If I tell you, you have to promise not to do anything.”
“Do anything?” She pulled back enough to look up at him. “What does that mean?”
“You’re going to be very angry.”
Ginny’s pulse pounded, and she needed a clear head to hear what he was going to say.
“Because you obviously don’t know.” He pressed the tips of his fingers together and turned around. “Dear Lord, is this a mistake?” he prayed right out loud.
Ginny watched him with wide eyes, fear running through her now. “Just tell me,” she said. “Because no, I don’t know.”
He took his sweet time turning back to her, and it should be illegal for a man to look as good as he did. Long legs clad in black slacks. Bright blue dress shirt, open at the throat. Dark leather jacket, black cowboy hat, with a little scruff on his face since he hadn’t shaved since that morning.
He wasn’t wearing a tuxedo, but this look was so much better.
He ground his voice in his throat as he removed his hat and put it back on. “Your mother asked me to stay away from you.” He nodded once, like that was that.
Instant fury roared to life within Ginny. “She did what? When?”
“At the New Year’s Eve party,” he said. “After we kissed. She said horses and whiskey don’t mix, and that if I respected you at all, I’d break things off between us.”
“I am going to kill her.” Ginny had never felt such rage.
“That’s not quite right,” he said, frowning. “She said if I respected you at all, I’d make sure that that night was the last time we were seen together.”
Ginny didn’t care what wording her mother had used. She’d overstepped her bounds—again. Ginny stepped around Cayden, her destination the mansion in the middle of the family land.
“Whoa, whoa,” he said, darting in front of her and blocking the door. “You’re not going back out there.”
“Yes, I am,” she said calmly. “Get out of my way.”
“I said you couldn’t do anything if I told you.”
“I didn’t promise,” she said, stepping right into him but not for a good reason this time. “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”
“I—don’t,” he said, his eyes wide and alarmed. “Of course I don’t.”
Ginny took a step back, refocusing her anger on the right person. Mother. “No one is going to tell me what to do,” she said, her teeth gritting. “I’m forty-six years old, and if I want to go out with Cayden Chappell, I’m going to.”
She needed to find her core again, because she didn’t like this wild feeling coursing through her.
“Ginny,” he said, his fingertips landing lightly against her forearm.
That grounded her, and she looked at his hand and then up into his eyes. “Yes?”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to go find my mother,” she said. “I’m going to tell her she was right—I should always pack a second outfit for formal events. I don’t do it, because well, because she said I should. Then I’m going to tell her she had no right to speak to you about our relationship. Once that’s ironed out, I’m going to call you and ask you to dinner.”
A small smile touched his mouth. “You’re scary when you’re mad,” he whispered. He bent his head and trailed a line of fire up the side of her face with his lips. “You don’t need to ask me, sweetheart. Just tell me when and where, and I’ll be there.”
“You’re still interested?” she asked, her voice breathy now.
“Was that not obvious from that kiss?”
“Maybe I need you to show me again.”
“Mm…I can do that.” Cayden took her fully into his arms and kissed her again, every stroke a reminder of how much she liked him and how much he liked her. Every touch became fuel for the courage she needed to talk to her mother. Every pulse of her heart beat only for him, and while she’d have to deal with that and what it meant later, right now, it sure felt nice to be in his arms again.
* * *
Ginny didn’t ring the doorbell or knock. She didn’t even use the front door. Her mother lived in ten percent of the house, the bulk of that at the back, away from the public face of Sweet Rose Whiskey.
She’d parked five feet from the servant entrance, and she’d used her key to get through the door. To her right sat the kitchen, and to her left a set of stairs that went up. Harvey and Elliot had tried to get Mother to live on the first floor, but there was only one bedroom on the main level, and it was in the front corner of the house.
Mother wouldn’t even go in that room, as Daddy had lived there. There had been little love left between them, and by the time he’d left Sweet Rose in an advanced stage of heart failure, they hadn’t been speaking.
Ginny knew exactly how her father felt as she turned and marched up the steps. She went right at the top and down a hallway that had been torn out and rebuilt to accommodate Mother’s flowing ball gowns. She owned more than anyone else on Earth, it seemed, and she always had a back-up plan for her back-up plan.
“Mother,” Ginny called as the sound of the television met her ears. Her step almost faltered, but she kept going. Things had been building and frothing between her and her mother for months now. This was just icing on a poisoned cake that needed to be thrown away.
“Mother,” she said again, pushing into the room where her mother spent her evenings at home. She sat in the recliner, gently toeing herself back and forth, a crochet needle working on the outer edge of a baby blanket.
“Ginny, dear.” Mother looked up from her work, a smile soft and easy on her face.
Secrets, Ginny thought, her gaze stuck to that blanket. They both had plenty of those.
“I thought it was the Gin and Gems event tonight?” Mother phrased it like a question when it wasn’t. She knew exactly what happened on the two-thousand-acre farm that was a distillery.
“It is,” Ginny said, tearing her eyes from that blanket. Why couldn’t Mother be wearing a black dress and stirring something nefarious over a fire? To find her crocheting a border on a handmade baby blanket while a cooking show droned on made her so…normal.
“Did you tell Cayden Chappell that horses and whiskey don’t mix?” Ginny asked, making her voice as strong as she could.
Mother’s fingers stumbled, and that was all the answer Ginny needed.
“Mother, you do not get to dictate to me who I will see and who I won’t.”
“He is all wrong for you.”
“You are wrong about that,” Ginny said. If there was one thing Mother hated, it was being told she was wrong. “I’m not sixteen anymore, Mother. I’m not even twenty-six. I’m almost fifty years old, and I’ve been doing everything you’ve told me to for my entire life.”
Her frustration and annoyance blossomed and bloomed, expanding rapidly as her breathing increased. “I’m done, Mother. I like him, and you have no right to boss him around.”
“Ginny, do think rationally,” Mother said in a disdainful voice. She set her crocheting aside and sighed as if Ginny had interrupted the most wonderful moment of her life. “You’re always over-reacting.”
“I am not over-reacting,” Ginny said. “I’ve lost almost three months of my life, wondering what I did to drive him away, only to find out it was you!” She advanced on her mother as she pushed herself up out of the chair.
She took a moment to steady herself on her feet, but when she looked at Ginny, the fire in her eyes was just as prevalent as it always had been. “He does not fit at Sweet Rose.”
“He doesn’t need to,” Ginny said. “He owns and operates a hugely successful horse farm.”
“Spur does that,” Mother said, shaking her head. “I don’t know what the Chappells are worth, dear, but there are eight of them. I doubt he could keep you in your current state of comfort.” She turned away from Ginny and started for the small kitchen in the back corner.
“I don’t need any of that comfort,” Ginny spat back. “I hate that house. It’s fifty times too big, and I hate coming home to it all by myself.”
Mother paused and twisted back to Ginny, her eyes wide. “Your ingratitude is unbecoming.”
“I am not ungrateful,” Ginny said. “I’m lonely. I’m tired, Mother.” She laughed, but it wasn’t a happy sound.
Mother turned fully toward her, a malicious glint in her dark eyes now. “Of course I can’t forbid you from seeing him. Go see him. Go to dinner with him. Fall in love with him. See if he has anywhere for you to live on that cattle ranch he shares with seven brothers.”
“It’s a racehorse operation, Mother.”
“Whatever,” Mother said, her appraising eyes sliding down to Ginny’s feet. She’d left her heels in the car, and suddenly, all the smells and stains leapt out from where they’d been hiding. “Good Lord,” Mother said, pressing her hand to her pulse. “Did anyone see you like this?” She reached out as if she’d touch the gown, but she yanked her fingers back before she did.
“Yes,” Ginny said. “Everyone at the Gin and Gems event.”
Mother’s eyes flashed again, probably because of Ginny’s blunt tone. She lifted her chin, not a tremble or tremor in sight. “If you choose him, you’ll be choosing to walk away from Sweet Rose.”
Ginny’s eyes widened and she pulled in a breath. “I can have a husband and run the distillery.”
“Not him as a husband.”
“Why not?” Ginny asked, desperate to see Cayden through her mother’s eyes. A horrible thought entered her mind. “Did Daddy… He’s not a Winters, is he?”
“No,” Mother said quickly. “But not for lack of trying.”
Ginny watched the agony and betrayal roll across her mother’s face, though Daddy had died years ago. “Him and Julie Chappell?”
“They even dated in high school,” Mother said, her voice pitching up a little. “I won him, of course. Julie is a beautiful woman, but she failed to understand your father on a level I always did.”
Ginny had no idea what that meant. “Mother?”
“You knew your father, dear. You’ll put it together.” She continued into the kitchen and began filling a teapot with water. Ginny didn’t want to think about her father and his many affairs. No other illegitimate children had come forth, but Ginny and Mother had already agreed not to tell the boys if they did.
Harvey had taken Theo Lange’s existence particularly hard, which Ginny could understand, as they were only one month apart in age.
She watched her mother in the kitchen, unable to move. She was so used to siding with her. Mother and Ginny. Ginny and Mother. They’d been two peas in a pod as Ginny learned the whiskey business from her mother.
Daddy had always handled the business side of the distillery, while Mother tended to the fields, the flavors, the people, and the events. She was the public face of Sweet Rose, and she’d built it from a small regional operation to a global powerhouse in the world of whiskey.
“Money,” Ginny said.
“Bingo,” Mother said, not bothering to turn or look at Ginny. “Your father valued money above almost anything. Julie had nothing to offer him.” She turned around then and leaned into the counter behind her. “I, of course, had all of this.” She swept her hand toward the ceiling as if the room she’d converted into a living room and kitchenette was a grand ballroom. The smile she wore almost felt predatory, and Ginny wanted to run back to her house and lock herself in her bedroom until things made sense.
“Cayden is not related to me,” she said slowly. “Daddy didn’t cheat with Julie. Your objection to my relationship to him is because of…because his mother dated Daddy in high school?”
“She kissed him the day before we got married,” Mother said, lifting her teacup to her lips as if she’d just said it would rain tomorrow. She lowered it a moment later, her eyes hard, dark marbles.
Mother did not like Julie Chappell, plain and simple. Mother could hold a grudge for a lifetime, something Ginny had always known and joked about with her brothers. To see it manifest itself as reality, though, was a much harder pill to swallow.
“I do not want that woman anywhere near my life,” Mother said. “She will get nothing from me, certainly not my only daughter. She will not ever be welcome on my property.” She set down her cup with hardly a clink, despite the venom and power in her voice.
“So, Ginny, dear. If you want to be with Cayden Chappell, you will need to walk away from Sweet Rose. From your family. From me.” She folded her arms, a knowing glint in her eyes, as if she knew such a thing was impossible.
It was impossible.
Ginny’s fury roared again, and her fingers curled into fists. “I’ll think about it.” She spun and stalked toward the exit.
“You’ll think about it?” Mother called after her.
Ginny didn’t answer. She had to get out of there before she started sobbing. She made it back to her SUV, everything clenched tight. She peeled out, spitting gravel behind her as she tore away from the mansion she hated.
“I hate this,” she said aloud, pounding her palm against the steering wheel. “I hate whiskey. I hate Sweet Rose. I hate this dress, and this car, and I hate my mother.”
Tears rained down her face and she put her car on the highway leading south from Sweet Rose, and she just drove as the storm inside her swirled and brewed, blew and raged.
When she’d calmed, she only had one thought left: Her mother owned her. She’d been wrapping Ginny in thin bands of barely-there control for almost five decades. She couldn’t break free, even if she wanted to.
She was stuck. Trapped. Subject to her mother’s whims and wishes—at least if she wanted to be part of her family and take over the whiskey business.
Her car started to slow down, and Ginny looked down at the speedometer. “No,” she said, pressing harder on the accelerator.
It was no use—she was out of gas.
With the late hour, there wasn’t anyone on the stretch of Kentucky road, and Ginny was able to easily maneuver to the shoulder and ease onto it as her car continued to decelerate. When she finally came to a stop, it was as if everything in her life now existed on a hinge.
Her next decision would decide the rest of her life.
She didn’t have shoes she could walk very far in.
She wore a stained and stinky designer gown.
She had no food or water in her car.
She closed her eyes, everything burning inside her. “Time to be reborn from the ashes,” she whispered, and she reached for her phone.
After dialing, she held the device to her ear and exhaled one long stream of apprehension and nerves.
“Ginny?”
“Cayden,” she said. “I know it’s late, but I’m stranded on the side of the road, and I’m wondering if you could come get me.”
He started chuckling, of all things. “Is this going to be a pattern with you?”
“Probably,” she said, trying to tame her crying into laughter and failing. “You should know that upfront, I suppose.”
“You sound upset,” he said.
“Yes.” She could admit it. “I also have no idea where I am. I’m going to have to look at my map and send you a pin.”
“How long have you been driving?” he asked quietly, the slight jangle of keys in the background.
She pressed her eyes closed, because he was going to be her knight in shining armor again. “What time is it?” she asked.
“Almost eleven.”
“A while,” she admitted.
He didn’t sigh or huff. He didn’t press for more information. All he said was, “Send me the pin, sweetheart.”
PREORDER PARADING THE COWBOY BILLIONAIRE NOW.
Cayden Chappell pulled up to the farmhouse where his brother lived now. The new sign had weathered its first rainstorm, and the whole state of Kentucky had come through the weekend’s downpour just fine.
Cayden felt like he’d had that storm cloud raining on him for almost three months now. The invisible weight he carried on his shoulders made him sigh as he got out of his truck. He knew where it came from, but he didn’t know how to shrug off Virginia Winters.
She’d captured him completely, and while their relationship hadn’t been traditional before, it was better than none at all.
He pushed her out of his mind, though he knew she’d just come back. She always did, and Cayden had lost way too much sleep to thoughts of the woman he’d only kissed once.
Once.
She shouldn’t have such sway over him, and yet, she did.
He obviously hadn’t made that big of an impression on her, because she’d never called him after she’d returned from her Caribbean vacation two months ago.
He went up the steps and rang the doorbell at the farmhouse, listening to it ring on the other side of the door. It sang through the country stillness too, and Cayden gazed out over the pasture that sat in the front left corner of the ranch. The grass was starting to green now that it was almost April, and Beth had two horses there, their heads down as they grazed.
There was something peaceful and serene about it that called to Cayden’s soul. As the public relations manager, he didn’t spend nearly enough time with the horses at Bluegrass Ranch. He could spend whole days in his office, in the administration building where few people normally came.
The only time the administration building was busy was during one of their events—the yearlings sale or their auctions. Then, the whole ranch bustled with activity, and Cayden was the one responsible for all of that.
He needed to get outside more, and he wandered away from the door and toward the railing on the far side of the porch. He’d just leaned against the railing when Beth said, “Cayden?”
“Mm.” He continued to gaze at the pasture for another moment before he turned to his sister-in-law. Beth wore a denim skirt that narrowed at her knees and a black blouse with brightly colored flowers on it. She was exactly the kind of woman Trey should be with, and Cayden smiled at her.
“Sorry. I got lost looking at your horses. I need to get outside more.” He’d finally finished wrapping up the horses-of-all-ages sale that had taken place at the ranch last month, and he was ready for a tropical vacation now too. It would be hot in Kentucky soon enough, and then he’d be wishing for cooler mornings like this one, with plenty of breezy afternoons.
“Those are actually Trey’s,” she said. “He brought them over last night.”
Cayden crossed the distance between them. “You told him I don’t want to go to this, right?”
“Repeatedly,” she murmured without looking at him. “He has it in his head that if you two will just get yourself into the same room together, you’ll remember why you liked each other so much.”
“I don’t need a reminder,” Cayden said darkly. He’d never thought of himself as a growling, moody man, but since Ginny’s disappearance from his life, he’d certainly become exactly that.
“Maybe she does,” Beth said. “There’s nothing wrong with reminding her of certain things.”
Cayden pressed his teeth together and kept the words he wanted to bark at her contained. He’d told two people what Wendy Winters had said to him. Exactly two—Lawrence and Trey. Neither had bothered him much about calling Ginny or trying to breathe new life into a relationship that had gone quiet.
Until now. Now, Trey seemed to think it was his job to make sure Cayden embarrassed himself at every turn.
“If I’m so forgettable,” Cayden said. “Will the reminder really matter?”
“You’re not forgettable,” Beth said. “Come on in now. TJ wants to ask you somethin’ before we go.” She turned and went into the house, and Cayden had no choice but to follow her. He wouldn’t disappoint TJ if he could avoid doing so. The child had some sort of magic about him that made everyone bend to his will.
“He’s here,” she called as she went past the comfortable couches in the living room. The farmhouse had huge windows flanking both sides of the front door, letting in plenty of light. Cayden had never given much thought to where he lived, but as he’d gotten to know Ginny and seen her house, he’d been stewing on it more and more.
He wasn’t even sure why.
She hadn’t called him. He’d been very busy with the horses-of-all-ages sale, sure. He hadn’t asked her to stay away, though. He hadn’t given her any indication that he didn’t have time for her.
Not only that, but another month had passed since that event, and she still hadn’t called. He hadn’t called her, because she’d been prepping for the Sweet Rose Gems & Gin event.
His mind seized on that thought, but he couldn’t examine it before TJ yelled, “Cayden!” from the kitchen.
The little boy came running through the doorway Beth had just gone through, and Cayden braced himself to receive the kid. He had a battery that never seemed to run out, and Cayden had seen him trailing behind Trey several times. He’d think TJ had gotten tired, but it was never true. He’d pick up the pace a moment later or see a dog and go chasing after it. Or Trey would say something to him, and he’d perk right up, running to catch Trey and get swung up onto a horse, where his face would glow like a lantern.
The little boy had a bright personality and a shock of dark hair that made him look like Trey’s son, even though he wasn’t.
“Heya, boy,” Cayden said, his soul warming with the hug of the smaller human. “Your momma said you had something to ask me.”
“Yeah.” TJ released the tight grip around Cayden’s neck and pulled back. “My teacher asked if anyone had a mom or daddy who knew how to make banners, and I was talkin’ to Trey and he says you do.”
“Said,” Beth said from a few feet away. “Trey said you do.”
Cayden grinned at TJ and then Beth. “I do know how to make banners,” he said. “I know lots of people who make banners, actually.”
“She wants to talk to you, then,” TJ said. “I guess she needs some help with it.”
“Okay,” Cayden said, not sure what he should do here. He looked at Beth, who rolled her eyes.
“Trey can give her your phone number,” Beth said. “If that’s okay.”
“Is it okay?” TJ asked, his eyes bright. He started playing with Cayden’s collar, a hint of nerves in his movement.
“Sure,” Cayden said. “Why not? What’s her name?”
“Miss Robertson,” TJ said. He wiggled, and Cayden put him on the ground just as Trey came in the back door.
“You’re late,” Beth said, and Trey just smiled at her, grabbed her around the waist, and kissed her. She giggled and made a lame attempt to push him away. Cayden couldn’t help staring, and he felt bad for doing so once his brother looked at him.
Cayden was three years older than Trey, and three years younger than Spur. They were both cut from similar cloth—a rough, scratchy cloth. They didn’t speak as often as the younger brothers. They held their emotions tight.
Blaine had the biggest heart and showed the most emotion. Duke, Ian, and Conrad were the loudest, always jockeying for a position of attention in the family. Lawrence was a mix of Cayden, Trey, and the younger boys, and Cayden got along really well with him.
Cayden felt like a black sheep in the Chappell family. He wasn’t overly emotional, but he did feel things deeply. He didn’t have to be the center of attention, but he didn’t mind speaking his opinions either. He wasn’t a natural-born leader, but he did possess a level of charisma that made him the natural choice for the public face of the ranch, something he’d been doing for twenty years now.
Trey had told him that he was the brother TJ talked about the most. He asked when Cayden could come over, and whenever Beth and Trey were going out, TJ asked if Cayden could watch him.
Cayden wasn’t sure if that made him likable or pathetic.
“Do you have the invite?” Trey asked, stepping around Beth to the fridge.
“You need to go change,” she said. “We’re eating there.”
“I have the invitation,” Cayden said, reaching into his inside jacket pocket. “You guys can just take it.”
“It says right on it that the person it was sent to has to be there. Guests are encouraged, with that person.”
Cayden had read it a hundred times. He knew what the postcard said. When he’d gotten it at the homestead, he’d been two seconds away from tossing it in the trash. Trey had seen it, and since it had a glinting diamond taking up the entire front, he’d grabbed it.
He and Beth were in the market for new wedding rings. Rather, he and Beth were going to buy their first wedding rings. Since they’d gotten married last fall in an unconventional way, they didn’t have a lot of the same things a more traditional couple would.
Cayden could see how much they loved each other, though. He wanted that same kind of giggling, doe-eyed woman in his life. He’d used to not care if he had a girlfriend or not. He was focused on his career, and as one of the only brothers with a college education, he was determined to prove to everyone that it mattered. He wanted to matter.
“Maybe once this is over, you two will be able to get your schedule to line up,” Beth said, and Cayden’s mind returned to that thought he’d stalled on before TJ had distracted him.
“I don’t know,” he said. “Is texting hard?”
“Have you texted her?” Trey challenged.
“Go change your clothes,” Beth said, her irritation plain on her face. Trey nodded and headed down the hall, leaving Cayden alone with Beth and TJ.
He didn’t want to hear more about what could maybe happen with Ginny at the event. He met Beth’s eye and said, “I’ll go wait outside,” he said. They’d asked him to drive and everything, and somehow Cayden had said yes.
He went back the way he’d come while Beth said something to TJ. Several minutes later, everyone was in the truck and Cayden was following his map to her father’s house. She ran TJ inside and returned to the truck less than a minute later.
“Ready,” she said, exhaling heavily.
“Let’s do it,” Trey said.
Cayden could make the drive to Sweet Rose Whiskey in his sleep, and he let Trey and Beth talk amongst themselves as he navigated them across town. The parking lot was fairly full already, as the event had started about ten minutes ago. It was an open house, so it wasn’t like they’d needed to be there exactly on time.
He turned right and went toward the huge field adjacent to the lot, as he drove a big truck and could handle the rougher road. He parked and handed the postcard to Trey, who promptly pushed it right back at him.
“You’re coming in,” he said. “Just get us through the door.”
“No,” Beth said. “He’s coming in, and he’s staying. He’s our ride.”
Cayden wanted to argue with her, but he said nothing. He got out of the truck and took a deep breath. The evening had started to darken and cool, and Cayden loved the slower, quieter evenings in the country.
He knew what the event inside would be like, and he inhaled the calm before the storm. Before he knew it, he was stepping up to a gentleman at the door and handing him his postcard.
“Evening, Mister Chappell,” the man said. He looked up and met Cayden’s eyes, and Cayden’s breath stuck in his throat. He knew this man. He’d parked his truck at Ginny’s New Year’s Eve party.
“Evening,” he managed to say.
“Two guests?” he asked, glancing at Trey and Beth.
“Yes, please,” Cayden said, slipping into his more formal personality. He hated that, and he pulled himself right back to his cowboy roots. If Wendy Winters was going to think him unworthy of her daughter, he might as well act like the heathen she thought he was.
Cayden had never been much of a rule-breaker, though, and his natural instinct was to please people. His mother. His teachers. Spur. Ginny.
Wendy.
He wondered if Ginny’s mother had said anything to her, and he almost laughed. Of course she had. Wendy wasn’t the type of woman who would hold back.
“We have drinks straight ahead,” the man said, and Cayden blinked to focus back on the conversation. “Once in the first room, you’ll find the food. Beyond that are the gems. Have a great evening.”
“Thank you,” Cayden murmured, and he went first into the building. He hadn’t been inside this one, and the hallway in front of him was long and dark. It opened up into a cozy room with a western theme. Dark brown leather couches dotted the room, with black and white cow-patterned rugs in front of them. A longhorn skull sat above the fireplace, and all of the tables looked handmade from hewn logs. A pair cowboy boots acted as a lamp base on the light fixture closest to him, and Cayden reached out to touch it.
Cowboy boots. He wore a pair right now, and he was actually surprised Ginny’s mother would allow such décor anywhere on her property.
“Sir,” someone said, and he turned toward a man who held a long tray with several glasses on it. “Would you like to try one of our gins?”
“I would,” Beth said, stepping to Cayden’s side. “Tell me what you’ve got.”
He smiled at her like he was the happiest man on earth. “Down here is our classic gin,” he said. “It’s got that juniper taste you associate with gin. Next to it is our orange blossom gin. It’s got the strongest citrus flavor out of any of our fruit-flavored gins.” He continued to outline the alcohol on the tray, and as Cayden wasn’t a fan of whiskey or gin or any alcohol really, he declined them all.
Beth selected the orange blossom, and Trey picked up the one with more anise in it. He took one sip and made a face. “This is why I don’t drink.”
The waiter had already moved away, thankfully, and Trey simply put his glass on the table next to those cowboy boots. Beth nursed hers as they looked around the room and then went through the doorway and into the next one.
This room was twice as big as the one with the cocktails, and there were far less people. Apparently, the drinks were more alluring than the food. Not to Cayden, and he took whatever the first man had on his tray and popped the whole thing into his mouth. Something salty and vinegary mixed with the beef, and then a bright pop of cilantro exploded in his mouth.
“Tartar,” he said. “That was good.”
“The chef made it with farm-raised cattle right here in Kentucky,” the man said, beaming as if he personally owned the farm.
Cayden wanted to pull him aside and ask him if he really was that happy to be working here tonight. He suspected the Winters paid very well, and that they insisted their people wear smiles for miles.
Instead, he picked up another wafer with the beef tartar on it and threw it back as if he was eating oysters.
He hadn’t seen Ginny yet, and some of the tension he’d been harboring in his chest and shoulders dissipated. She’d likely be in the gem room, where all the goods were. Sweet Rose had partnered with Down Home Jewelry for the event, as both were local Dreamsville corporations that had expanded to worldwide giants while maintaining their Kentucky roots.
Cayden drifted away from Beth and Trey and toward another tray of food. Then another. If he ate enough, coming here tonight would be worth the risk to his heart. As if on cue, it skipped a beat, and he reached for another Southwest eggroll.
Ginny had pulled out all the stops for tonight’s event. Low music played in this room, and there were multiple places to sit and relax. Talk and get food and order additional drinks. Nothing ever ran out and while Cayden had seen behind the curtain at an event like this, he suspected most of the people here had not.
Trey appeared in front of him. “We’re going in. You’ll be okay here?”
“Yes,” Cayden said, biting back on the sarcastic remark that popped into his head. He watched Trey and Beth duck through the door at the back of the room, and he took another crabcake when the tray came around again.
He’d just finished it when Ginny exited the room where Trey had gone.
Cayden got to his feet without even knowing that he had. He soaked in the sight of Virginia Winters, sparks flying through his whole body.
Beth had been wrong; the reminder wasn’t for Ginny. It was for him.
Go talk to her, he commanded himself. He had to talk to her tonight. He had to explain that he’d gone silent because of her mother.
He couldn’t believe he’d cared what Wendy Winters thought of him. He couldn’t believe he’d given up the curvy, gorgeous woman currently smiling at a couple of men. Ginny wore an elegant off-white dress with plenty of lace everywhere. Her dark hair had been piled up on top of her head and secured with glinting gems that probably cost more than most people made in their entire lifetimes.
Her heels made her legs tight and slender, and Cayden’s mouth turned dry.
It was her eyes that always captured him, and as she laughed and looked his way, he caught sight of those navy blue pools that pulled him in every time.
He knew the moment she saw and recognized him. The smile slipped from her face, and her eyes widened.
One hand flew to her mouth, which had dropped open, and then lowered to press against her chest. Her dress had wide straps that went over her shoulders and left a lot of skin to be observed.
Cayden couldn’t move, though he wanted to. He could at least wave or something to indicate to her that he’d seen her. If he could just get his blood to stop burning him up from the inside out, he’d go talk to her.
Ginny had frozen too, and then she seemed to shake herself. Her masks flew into place, and she took a step toward him—and collided with a waiter carrying a full tray of sea bass and tomato canapés.
CHAPTER TWO:
Virginia Winters had ruined many dresses in her lifetime. None as spectacularly and as publicly as the Victoria James gown she currently wore. She never wore a formal dress more than once, but that didn’t mean she wanted tomatoes, balsamic, and fish juice embedded in the lace.
She certainly didn’t want it to happen in front of anyone, least of all Cayden Chappell, who now loomed above her as if he’d sprinted across the drawing room to be there for her when she first opened her eyes and realized what had happened.
What had happened was that she’d been so entranced by his presence that she hadn’t looked at anyone or anything but him. She’d run into a waiter carrying a full tray of canapés, causing both of them to tumble to the floor. She’d shown too much leg to everyone within the near vicinity, and she’d ruined her twenty-thousand-dollar dress.
Her hair brushed her face, and she realized she’d ruined that too. Embarrassment heated her whole body, and she watched Cayden’s mouth move but no sound come out. Around her, everyone seemed to be looking at her with equally alarmed expressions, and Ginny wanted to tell them to back up and let her breathe.
Cayden reached out and touched her face, brushing that errant hair back. “…can you hear me?” Cayden’s voice finally broke through the haze in her mind.
“Yes,” she said, and sound rushed at her from every side. She couldn’t grasp onto any one thought, and her mind raced through what she should do now. Change her clothes and come back to the party? Call it a night?
Just get out of here, she thought, and when Cayden asked, “Can I help you up, Ginny?” she put her hand in his, sparks flying up her arm and into her shoulder.
She looked at him, and so much was said between them. Her chest pinched, though, because he hadn’t called.
She managed to get to her feet, pull down her dress, and wipe back her hair.
“Which door?” Cayden asked her, his voice low and meant only for her. She could still hear her name coming from his mouth, and he’d spoken it with a great deal of care.
“Straight ahead,” she said, nodding to the door dozens of paces away. If she could just make it there, she could figure out what to do. “I’m sorry,” she tossed over her shoulder to the waiter still trying to clean up the things she’d spilled.
Cayden kept the pace brisk, and Ginny pushed to keep up with him. “I feel so stupid,” she muttered, the feeling intensifying when he didn’t answer. Maybe he hadn’t heard her.
Yeah, she thought dryly. Like all those times you thought that maybe he’d forgotten your phone number.
Or that he’d gotten a new phone.
Then had a complete memory lapse and couldn’t remember where she lived and worked.
In her most desperate moments, she’d even started to think he’d been in a terrible accident and was in a coma in a nearby hospital.
Anything to not have to face the fact that he’d kissed her, wished her well on vacation, and then dropped her without another word.
He twisted the doorknob and let her go through first. Ginny immediately kicked off her heels, because one of her ankles was throbbing from her fall. Her palms stung, and everything felt out of place.
She made it to a small settee from the 1600s that had been reupholstered in the ugliest fabric on the planet. Her mother loved it, but Ginny did not, so it got stuck in here. If Mother wanted it, she should take it to the mansion where she lived alone.
Ginny was so tired of being alone.
Her emotions stormed, and before she could contain it, a sob wrenched itself from her throat. She lifted her foot to her knee and started massaging her ankle, though it wasn’t hurt that badly.
“Ginny,” Cayden said. “Can I get you anything? A drink. Some medication.” He actually looked around like this storage room would have anything like that. It didn’t look like a storage room, so she could understand his desire, she supposed.
“No,” she said, looking down at her stained dress. The scent of fish hit her squarely in the nose, and a fresh wave of tears got triggered.
“Sweetheart,” he said softly, coming closer to her.
“Don’t you dare call me that,” she said, lifting her eyes to his. She was so tired of being so proper all the time. She wanted to rage and scream. She wanted to tell him what she really thought of his behavior. Then, she wanted to eat ice cream and tell her dogs all about it, probably while she cried.
She stood, raising herself to her full height, though she was nowhere near as tall as him. “You have a lot of nerve, Mister Chappell, coming here.”
“I got an invitation for this event.”
“You never called.” She folded her arms and fixed him with a hard stare.
He glared right back at her. “Last time I checked, phones make outbound calls too.” He took a step toward her.
“I wasn’t going to call someone who wasn’t interested,” she said.
“Neither was I.”
They stared at one another, and Ginny’s anger started to ebb away. “What happened?” she asked.
Cayden opened his mouth to say something, then promptly bit it closed again. She’d never known him to keep his mouth shut when he had something to say. He’d told her multiple times that he was interested in her, and that he wanted their relationship to be more than him escorting her to fancy parties.
He looked away, the indecision plain on his face despite the low lighting in the room. Watching him, she could feel his tender heart and his sexy vulnerability. She tasted him on her lips again, something that had been haunting her since their New Year’s kiss.
“Let me tell you how it looks from my end,” she said, her voice powerful but not loud. “You came to my New Year’s Eve party. We danced and laughed. We kissed, and it was amazing. Then you left, and I went on vacation. When I got back, you didn’t call. The one time we spoke, you said you were worried about Trey, the Sweetheart Classic, and the horses-of-all-ages sale at the ranch.”
She stopped and took a long breath, blowing it out slowly as if she were doing one of her yoga exercises. “I figured you were quite busy, so I left you alone, thinking you’d call when things wrapped up. You didn’t.”
Familiar nerves ran through her. Ginny had grown up with a cruel father and a proper mother, and she knew what inadequacy felt like. She’d been inadequate since the moment of her birth, and it was something she had not overcome yet.
With Cayden, though…he’d always made her feel like royalty, like her life was a gift to him personally. She hadn’t realized how much she’d needed that—needed him—until he was suddenly gone.
“I apologize,” he said stiffly, still not looking at her.
“You apologize?” She took several quick steps toward him and touched his chest. “Look at me.”
He swung his head toward her, but ducked it, not truly meeting her gaze.
“You don’t say, ‘I apologize.’ That’s something I say.”
“I don’t know what you want from me,” he said.
“I want the truth.” She pressed her palm against his chest again, not really pushing him, but needing to get his attention somehow. “Tell me what happened.”
He lifted his eyes to hers, anger and danger there. “I don’t want to tell you.”
“If you met someone else, just say so.”
“I didn’t.”
“You broke your phone, then.”
“No.”
Ginny’s desperation spiraled out of control, and she couldn’t stop herself from looking at his mouth. Oh, that mouth. It had claimed her so completely, and she couldn’t comprehend what could’ve happened to drive him away.
He’d kissed her like no man ever had, and Ginny wanted him to do it again right now.
Without thinking or second-guessing herself, Ginny put her hands on his shoulders and tipped up onto her toes. She pressed her mouth to his and kissed him, a sob working its way through her stomach.
He stood very still for a moment, then two, then his hands ran up her arms and into her hair. A growl started somewhere in his throat, and his mouth softened, receiving hers and kissing her back.
The rough version of Cayden disappeared after a few seconds, and he turned the kiss sweet and sensual, dragging it on and on until he finally pulled away, his chest heaving as he breathed hard.
Her heartbeat sprinted in her chest, and she couldn’t open her eyes and look at him. If this was all she got of Cayden Chappell, she wanted it to end with a kiss like this. One filled with passion and yet respect, with love and desire, and with all the tenderness of a man who cared about her.
She dropped her hands from his face and opened her eyes, and he cleared his throat and stepped back. She wasn’t going to apologize, because she wasn’t sorry for what had just happened.
“The only other thing I could come up with was that you’d been in a terrible accident and had been in a coma the last few months.” Her voice hardly sounded like hers, especially at the end when her emotions got the best of her.
“Ginny,” he whispered, stepping into her personal space again and gathering her right against his chest.
“Here you are,” she said. “Obviously not in a coma.” She wanted to push him again, but instead, she sank into him. He smelled like leather and horses, sunshine and freshly laundered cotton. Blast Olli for her perfect male scents.
“If I tell you, you have to promise not to do anything.”
“Do anything?” She pulled back enough to look up at him. “What does that mean?”
“You’re going to be very angry.”
Ginny’s pulse pounded, and she needed a clear head to hear what he was going to say.
“Because you obviously don’t know.” He pressed the tips of his fingers together and turned around. “Dear Lord, is this a mistake?” he prayed right out loud.
Ginny watched him with wide eyes, fear running through her now. “Just tell me,” she said. “Because no, I don’t know.”
He took his sweet time turning back to her, and it should be illegal for a man to look as good as he did. Long legs clad in black slacks. Bright blue dress shirt, open at the throat. Dark leather jacket, black cowboy hat, with a little scruff on his face since he hadn’t shaved since that morning.
He wasn’t wearing a tuxedo, but this look was so much better.
He ground his voice in his throat as he removed his hat and put it back on. “Your mother asked me to stay away from you.” He nodded once, like that was that.
Instant fury roared to life within Ginny. “She did what? When?”
“At the New Year’s Eve party,” he said. “After we kissed. She said horses and whiskey don’t mix, and that if I respected you at all, I’d break things off between us.”
“I am going to kill her.” Ginny had never felt such rage.
“That’s not quite right,” he said, frowning. “She said if I respected you at all, I’d make sure that that night was the last time we were seen together.”
Ginny didn’t care what wording her mother had used. She’d overstepped her bounds—again. Ginny stepped around Cayden, her destination the mansion in the middle of the family land.
“Whoa, whoa,” he said, darting in front of her and blocking the door. “You’re not going back out there.”
“Yes, I am,” she said calmly. “Get out of my way.”
“I said you couldn’t do anything if I told you.”
“I didn’t promise,” she said, stepping right into him but not for a good reason this time. “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”
“I—don’t,” he said, his eyes wide and alarmed. “Of course I don’t.”
Ginny took a step back, refocusing her anger on the right person. Mother. “No one is going to tell me what to do,” she said, her teeth gritting. “I’m forty-six years old, and if I want to go out with Cayden Chappell, I’m going to.”
She needed to find her core again, because she didn’t like this wild feeling coursing through her.
“Ginny,” he said, his fingertips landing lightly against her forearm.
That grounded her, and she looked at his hand and then up into his eyes. “Yes?”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to go find my mother,” she said. “I’m going to tell her she was right—I should always pack a second outfit for formal events. I don’t do it, because well, because she said I should. Then I’m going to tell her she had no right to speak to you about our relationship. Once that’s ironed out, I’m going to call you and ask you to dinner.”
A small smile touched his mouth. “You’re scary when you’re mad,” he whispered. He bent his head and trailed a line of fire up the side of her face with his lips. “You don’t need to ask me, sweetheart. Just tell me when and where, and I’ll be there.”
“You’re still interested?” she asked, her voice breathy now.
“Was that not obvious from that kiss?”
“Maybe I need you to show me again.”
“Mm…I can do that.” Cayden took her fully into his arms and kissed her again, every stroke a reminder of how much she liked him and how much he liked her. Every touch became fuel for the courage she needed to talk to her mother. Every pulse of her heart beat only for him, and while she’d have to deal with that and what it meant later, right now, it sure felt nice to be in his arms again.
* * *
Ginny didn’t ring the doorbell or knock. She didn’t even use the front door. Her mother lived in ten percent of the house, the bulk of that at the back, away from the public face of Sweet Rose Whiskey.
She’d parked five feet from the servant entrance, and she’d used her key to get through the door. To her right sat the kitchen, and to her left a set of stairs that went up. Harvey and Elliot had tried to get Mother to live on the first floor, but there was only one bedroom on the main level, and it was in the front corner of the house.
Mother wouldn’t even go in that room, as Daddy had lived there. There had been little love left between them, and by the time he’d left Sweet Rose in an advanced stage of heart failure, they hadn’t been speaking.
Ginny knew exactly how her father felt as she turned and marched up the steps. She went right at the top and down a hallway that had been torn out and rebuilt to accommodate Mother’s flowing ball gowns. She owned more than anyone else on Earth, it seemed, and she always had a back-up plan for her back-up plan.
“Mother,” Ginny called as the sound of the television met her ears. Her step almost faltered, but she kept going. Things had been building and frothing between her and her mother for months now. This was just icing on a poisoned cake that needed to be thrown away.
“Mother,” she said again, pushing into the room where her mother spent her evenings at home. She sat in the recliner, gently toeing herself back and forth, a crochet needle working on the outer edge of a baby blanket.
“Ginny, dear.” Mother looked up from her work, a smile soft and easy on her face.
Secrets, Ginny thought, her gaze stuck to that blanket. They both had plenty of those.
“I thought it was the Gin and Gems event tonight?” Mother phrased it like a question when it wasn’t. She knew exactly what happened on the two-thousand-acre farm that was a distillery.
“It is,” Ginny said, tearing her eyes from that blanket. Why couldn’t Mother be wearing a black dress and stirring something nefarious over a fire? To find her crocheting a border on a handmade baby blanket while a cooking show droned on made her so…normal.
“Did you tell Cayden Chappell that horses and whiskey don’t mix?” Ginny asked, making her voice as strong as she could.
Mother’s fingers stumbled, and that was all the answer Ginny needed.
“Mother, you do not get to dictate to me who I will see and who I won’t.”
“He is all wrong for you.”
“You are wrong about that,” Ginny said. If there was one thing Mother hated, it was being told she was wrong. “I’m not sixteen anymore, Mother. I’m not even twenty-six. I’m almost fifty years old, and I’ve been doing everything you’ve told me to for my entire life.”
Her frustration and annoyance blossomed and bloomed, expanding rapidly as her breathing increased. “I’m done, Mother. I like him, and you have no right to boss him around.”
“Ginny, do think rationally,” Mother said in a disdainful voice. She set her crocheting aside and sighed as if Ginny had interrupted the most wonderful moment of her life. “You’re always over-reacting.”
“I am not over-reacting,” Ginny said. “I’ve lost almost three months of my life, wondering what I did to drive him away, only to find out it was you!” She advanced on her mother as she pushed herself up out of the chair.
She took a moment to steady herself on her feet, but when she looked at Ginny, the fire in her eyes was just as prevalent as it always had been. “He does not fit at Sweet Rose.”
“He doesn’t need to,” Ginny said. “He owns and operates a hugely successful horse farm.”
“Spur does that,” Mother said, shaking her head. “I don’t know what the Chappells are worth, dear, but there are eight of them. I doubt he could keep you in your current state of comfort.” She turned away from Ginny and started for the small kitchen in the back corner.
“I don’t need any of that comfort,” Ginny spat back. “I hate that house. It’s fifty times too big, and I hate coming home to it all by myself.”
Mother paused and twisted back to Ginny, her eyes wide. “Your ingratitude is unbecoming.”
“I am not ungrateful,” Ginny said. “I’m lonely. I’m tired, Mother.” She laughed, but it wasn’t a happy sound.
Mother turned fully toward her, a malicious glint in her dark eyes now. “Of course I can’t forbid you from seeing him. Go see him. Go to dinner with him. Fall in love with him. See if he has anywhere for you to live on that cattle ranch he shares with seven brothers.”
“It’s a racehorse operation, Mother.”
“Whatever,” Mother said, her appraising eyes sliding down to Ginny’s feet. She’d left her heels in the car, and suddenly, all the smells and stains leapt out from where they’d been hiding. “Good Lord,” Mother said, pressing her hand to her pulse. “Did anyone see you like this?” She reached out as if she’d touch the gown, but she yanked her fingers back before she did.
“Yes,” Ginny said. “Everyone at the Gin and Gems event.”
Mother’s eyes flashed again, probably because of Ginny’s blunt tone. She lifted her chin, not a tremble or tremor in sight. “If you choose him, you’ll be choosing to walk away from Sweet Rose.”
Ginny’s eyes widened and she pulled in a breath. “I can have a husband and run the distillery.”
“Not him as a husband.”
“Why not?” Ginny asked, desperate to see Cayden through her mother’s eyes. A horrible thought entered her mind. “Did Daddy… He’s not a Winters, is he?”
“No,” Mother said quickly. “But not for lack of trying.”
Ginny watched the agony and betrayal roll across her mother’s face, though Daddy had died years ago. “Him and Julie Chappell?”
“They even dated in high school,” Mother said, her voice pitching up a little. “I won him, of course. Julie is a beautiful woman, but she failed to understand your father on a level I always did.”
Ginny had no idea what that meant. “Mother?”
“You knew your father, dear. You’ll put it together.” She continued into the kitchen and began filling a teapot with water. Ginny didn’t want to think about her father and his many affairs. No other illegitimate children had come forth, but Ginny and Mother had already agreed not to tell the boys if they did.
Harvey had taken Theo Lange’s existence particularly hard, which Ginny could understand, as they were only one month apart in age.
She watched her mother in the kitchen, unable to move. She was so used to siding with her. Mother and Ginny. Ginny and Mother. They’d been two peas in a pod as Ginny learned the whiskey business from her mother.
Daddy had always handled the business side of the distillery, while Mother tended to the fields, the flavors, the people, and the events. She was the public face of Sweet Rose, and she’d built it from a small regional operation to a global powerhouse in the world of whiskey.
“Money,” Ginny said.
“Bingo,” Mother said, not bothering to turn or look at Ginny. “Your father valued money above almost anything. Julie had nothing to offer him.” She turned around then and leaned into the counter behind her. “I, of course, had all of this.” She swept her hand toward the ceiling as if the room she’d converted into a living room and kitchenette was a grand ballroom. The smile she wore almost felt predatory, and Ginny wanted to run back to her house and lock herself in her bedroom until things made sense.
“Cayden is not related to me,” she said slowly. “Daddy didn’t cheat with Julie. Your objection to my relationship to him is because of…because his mother dated Daddy in high school?”
“She kissed him the day before we got married,” Mother said, lifting her teacup to her lips as if she’d just said it would rain tomorrow. She lowered it a moment later, her eyes hard, dark marbles.
Mother did not like Julie Chappell, plain and simple. Mother could hold a grudge for a lifetime, something Ginny had always known and joked about with her brothers. To see it manifest itself as reality, though, was a much harder pill to swallow.
“I do not want that woman anywhere near my life,” Mother said. “She will get nothing from me, certainly not my only daughter. She will not ever be welcome on my property.” She set down her cup with hardly a clink, despite the venom and power in her voice.
“So, Ginny, dear. If you want to be with Cayden Chappell, you will need to walk away from Sweet Rose. From your family. From me.” She folded her arms, a knowing glint in her eyes, as if she knew such a thing was impossible.
It was impossible.
Ginny’s fury roared again, and her fingers curled into fists. “I’ll think about it.” She spun and stalked toward the exit.
“You’ll think about it?” Mother called after her.
Ginny didn’t answer. She had to get out of there before she started sobbing. She made it back to her SUV, everything clenched tight. She peeled out, spitting gravel behind her as she tore away from the mansion she hated.
“I hate this,” she said aloud, pounding her palm against the steering wheel. “I hate whiskey. I hate Sweet Rose. I hate this dress, and this car, and I hate my mother.”
Tears rained down her face and she put her car on the highway leading south from Sweet Rose, and she just drove as the storm inside her swirled and brewed, blew and raged.
When she’d calmed, she only had one thought left: Her mother owned her. She’d been wrapping Ginny in thin bands of barely-there control for almost five decades. She couldn’t break free, even if she wanted to.
She was stuck. Trapped. Subject to her mother’s whims and wishes—at least if she wanted to be part of her family and take over the whiskey business.
Her car started to slow down, and Ginny looked down at the speedometer. “No,” she said, pressing harder on the accelerator.
It was no use—she was out of gas.
With the late hour, there wasn’t anyone on the stretch of Kentucky road, and Ginny was able to easily maneuver to the shoulder and ease onto it as her car continued to decelerate. When she finally came to a stop, it was as if everything in her life now existed on a hinge.
Her next decision would decide the rest of her life.
She didn’t have shoes she could walk very far in.
She wore a stained and stinky designer gown.
She had no food or water in her car.
She closed her eyes, everything burning inside her. “Time to be reborn from the ashes,” she whispered, and she reached for her phone.
After dialing, she held the device to her ear and exhaled one long stream of apprehension and nerves.
“Ginny?”
“Cayden,” she said. “I know it’s late, but I’m stranded on the side of the road, and I’m wondering if you could come get me.”
He started chuckling, of all things. “Is this going to be a pattern with you?”
“Probably,” she said, trying to tame her crying into laughter and failing. “You should know that upfront, I suppose.”
“You sound upset,” he said.
“Yes.” She could admit it. “I also have no idea where I am. I’m going to have to look at my map and send you a pin.”
“How long have you been driving?” he asked quietly, the slight jangle of keys in the background.
She pressed her eyes closed, because he was going to be her knight in shining armor again. “What time is it?” she asked.
“Almost eleven.”
“A while,” she admitted.
He didn’t sigh or huff. He didn’t press for more information. All he said was, “Send me the pin, sweetheart.”
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