Down Home Cowboy. Maisey Yates

the pill,” Lane said, “to avoid just that sort of thing. Because Lord knows lapses in judgment happen. Especially with Finn.”

      “Stop it,” Alison said. “You are talking to an extremely celibate woman. And it just feels mean.”

      “What about that hot guy that was checking you out at the bar the other night?” Rebecca asked. “Do it with him.”

      “What hot guy?” Lane asked, looking between Alison and Rebecca. “There was a hot guy?”

      “Some sexy cowboy checking her out when we went out the other night.”

      Suddenly, everyone was looking at her. “I said it then, and I’ll say it again. I’m not going to get involved with anyone.”

      “Clearly, you have needs that have to be met,” Lane said.

      “Well, they’re not going to be met with him.”

      “Why not?” Rebecca asked.

      “There’s no reason for it to be him. Nothing happened. He... He was looking at me. That’s it. For all we know he could’ve been staring because my makeup looked funky and I had lipstick on my teeth.” She really didn’t want to get into the fact that it was Cain Donnelly who had been looking at her. There was too much small-town weirdness happening without her letting her friends in on it.

      And Lane would enjoy it too much. And try to matchmake or something. No thank you.

      “He wanted to get into your pants. Literally the only reason men stare at women.”

      “Thank you for that, Lane,” Alison said.

      “You’re welcome. And, now that I’ve pointed out the very helpful piece of information, maybe you can admit that you actually had a guy who wanted to get with you and you passed it up for no good reason.”

      Alison sputtered. “I have good reason.”

      “Tell me your reasons. I want a list of them,” Lane said, crossing her arms and staring her down.

      Alison held up a finger. “I don’t want a relationship.”

      “Who said anything about a relationship? I was talking about hooking up.”

      “Well, I’m not in a place in my life where I feel comfortable doing that.”

      “Uh-huh. I don’t believe that.” This was when she wished her friends would treat her a little more like a fragile fledgling.

      Alison threw up her hands, exasperated, then leaned in and took a piece of pie off the tray that was sitting on the table between them. “It doesn’t matter what you believe. What matters is the truth. And the truth is that I... I don’t feel... Like I should sleep with a guy just to sleep with him.”

      “You don’t have to sleep with him,” Rebecca said, her tone sly. “Just have sex with him and leave.”

      Alison looked at her younger friend. “Rebecca. I’m shocked. This coming from you, who has literally only ever been intimate with the man you’re in love with.”

      Rebecca made a dismissive sound. “I was not in love with him the first time I was intimate with him.” She put air quotes around that phrase. “In fact, I was decidedly not in love with him the first time.”

      “Settle down, you horrendous bitches,” Cassie said. “If Alison wants to stay celibate, Alison can stay celibate.”

      “Thank you,” Alison said, her tone arch.

      “And,” Cassie continued, “if she wants to become a nun, she can become a nun.”

      “Okay,” Alison said, shooting her friend a deadly glare. “I’m not even Catholic.”

      “If you’re not devoting your life to the church, Alison, I feel like you might devote some of it to having a little bit of fun, but that’s just me,” Cassie said.

      “Wow, your support waned quickly.”

      Cassie grabbed a second piece of pie for herself. “I’m supportive. I’m very supportive. But in this instance my support includes giving the opinion that if a hot guy—correction, a hot cowboy—is checking you out...”

      “It was Cain Donnelly,” Alison exploded, forgetting why she hadn’t wanted to share the information in the first place. “Okay? Are you satisfied? I discovered today that the man who checked me out at the bar was Cain Donnelly.”

      Cassie and Rebecca just blinked in silence.

      But Lane exploded with laughter. “Oh, my goodness. That is funny.”

      “Why is that funny? I finally found a man who made me consider the benefits of a little bit of medicinal penis and he happens to be the father of one of my employees.”

      “And a man less likely to show a woman a good time I cannot think of,” Lane said, wiping a tear from beneath her eye as she continued to hoot like a deranged burrowing owl.

      Alison thought back to that strong, muscular frame, those large, very capable-looking hands, that angular jaw...

      “He looks perfectly able to show a woman a good time to me,” she said.

      “Oh, sure, physically. He’s hot. They all are,” Lane said. “All the Donnelly men, I mean. Did you not notice that there’s a family resemblance?”

      “No,” she said. “I mean, later when I realized, yes. But I don’t think of Finn that way and it just...didn’t occur to me.”

      She’d been caught up in more than just looks. It had been about the connection. The electricity.

      “Every Donnelly is hot,” Lane said. “But Cain has extenuating circumstances, and he’s not the most charming individual at the best of times. Though for him I’m not really sure what constitutes the best of times.”

      For some reason, Alison felt instantly defensive of him. Which was crazy, because tall, dark and not-getting-in-her-pants did not need her defense. “He was really nice when I talked to him.”

      “Well, this sucks.” Cassie looked deflated. “She finally meets a decent guy and he’s complicated.”

      “All men are complicated,” Lane said. “Some are just worth it.”

      “Why does it have to suck?” Rebecca asked. “You could still hook up with him.”

      “No,” Alison said definitively. “That’s too many connections. When I thought he was just a guy passing through town I was almost kind of open to the idea. Of course, then he left the bar and I figured I would never see him again. But when he walked into the shop today... I thought maybe. I thought maybe it was fate. But then it turned out he was Violet’s father. And no. First of all, I have so much of my own baggage that I am required to pay oversize luggage fees. So I don’t want a guy who’s carrying that much of his own. Second of all, Violet needs... Something. Stability. Someone she can talk to. And I feel like she’s really getting somewhere at the bakery. I want to help her. Like I’ve helped other people. I can’t do that if I have my hand in her father’s pants.”

      “I don’t know,” Lane said, her expression taking on a dipped-in-honey sweetness that spoke of nothing but trouble. “You do like to help the needy. Cain is awfully needy.”

      That brought to mind some very choice images. Hot, sweaty ones. Of how she might help Cain’s needs. Wrap her fingers right around that need. Test its strength. Lean in and...

      “Dammit,” Alison said, sliding her fingers through her hair and cradling her forehead on her palms. “Don’t tell me things like that.”

      “I can tell you a few things about the Donnellys,” Lane continued. “I mean, assuming certain anatomical traits are hereditary...”

      “Stop it.” She let out a heavy sigh. “Lane, you of all people should understand why I don’t want an entanglement.