Captivated by the Cowgirl
Autor:in
Brenda Harlen
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Chapter One
Devin Blake hated being interrupted when he was in the zone, which was why no one he knew ever showed up at his door without calling first—at least not more than once. So when the doorbell rang late on a Monday afternoon in early May, he ignored it.
Then it rang again.
And again.
Muttering with frustration, he tapped the screen of his phone, sitting on his desk beside his keyboard, and opened the security camera app to see if he could identify the person responsible for the disruption. If it was a courier, there was going to be hell to pay, because he’d given signature releases to all local delivery companies to ensure that he wouldn’t be pulled away from his work for anything as mundane as signing for a package.
An image filled the screen, his jaw dropped and—for just a moment—he actually forgot what he was supposed to be doing and just stared.
Because his visitor was...stunning.
Loose waves of long blond hair framed a delicate heart-shaped face. Her eyes, dark green with ridiculously long lashes, dropped to glance at the watch—or maybe it was a fitness band—on her wrist. She wore a white scoop-neck top with little cap sleeves tucked into a slim-fitting skirt with wedge-heeled sandals on her feet.
Stunning but lost, he decided.
And persistent, he added to the assessment, as she reached forward to ring the bell again.
With a weary sigh—and perhaps a little bit of anticipation—he rose from his desk and made his way from his home office, through the living room to the front door.
“Oh, hi.” Her smile was bright, her tone friendly. “I was beginning to think you weren’t home. Or that I’d maybe put the wrong day or time in my calendar.”
He should say something—anything—but his tongue was suddenly tied in knots.
“You’re Devin, right?” she prompted, when he remained silent.
He nodded.
So much for his theory that she was in the wrong place, but he still didn’t know who she was or why she was looking for him.
“I’m Claire,” she said now, answering the first of his unspoken questions. “Claire Lamontagne.”
The name was vaguely familiar, as if he should know who she was but his mind failed to make a connection. He automatically accepted her proffered hand. Though it looked slender, even delicate, her grip was firm, and he felt a jolt of something electric pass between them.
He suspected that she’d felt it, too, because she quickly pulled her hand away even as she smiled again.
“When you talk to Sarah, can you tell her that I was here at four?”
He assumed she was referring to Sarah Stafford, which suggested that Claire was a friend of his cousin—but it still didn’t explain this woman’s presence at his door.
“She thinks there’s something in my DNA that makes it impossible for me to ever be on time, but I am today,” Claire continued. “Of course, I set three alerts on my phone to ensure I wouldn’t be late, but I’m here and ready to get started.”
She paused to catch a breath, giving him a chance to untangle his tongue and ask, “Started with what?”
Delicately arched brows drew together over those deep green eyes. “The website for Twilight Valley. I was so focused on getting everything ready and then taking care of the horses, I didn’t even think about a website, but Sarah assured me that you’re a whiz at computer stuff and could get one set up for me in no time.”
Finally, the pieces clicked into place for him.
“You’re the friend with the horse rescue,” he said, as vague memories of a recent conversation with his cousin nudged at his mind.
“It’s a rehabilitation and retirement facility,” Claire told him.
“Right.”
The furrow between those brows deepened. “Do I have the wrong day for our meeting?”
He could say yes and maybe save face, but then she might end up feeling as foolish as he did right now. Instead, he answered truthfully.
“I don’t know,” he admitted.
Because if Sarah had mentioned a specific date and time for a meeting with her friend, he had no memory of it, and there had been no commitments noted in his electronic calendar.
“But I obviously caught you in the middle of something,” Claire realized.
“Yeah. I’m trying to build an extra layer of security for—” He caught the blank look on her face and quickly cut himself off. “Well, I’m sure you’re not interested in firewall design.”
“I might be, if I had the slightest clue what you were talking about,” she told him.
“So I’ll just say that yes, I was in the middle of something.”
And it was critical work that he really needed to get back to, but at the moment, he was completely spellbound by his cousin’s friend.
Of course, he was neither foolish nor foolhardy enough to think that a woman who looked like Claire Lamontagne would ever be interested in a guy like him. The only reason she was at his door was that she wanted a website built, and apparently holding dual degrees in software engineering and computer science qualified him for that.
Claire waited a beat, as if expecting Devin to say something else, but the power of speech eluded him again.
“Why don’t we reschedule our meeting then?” she finally suggested.
He nodded, grateful that she’d managed to come up with an admittedly obvious solution to the problem. “That would be good.”
She offered him another of those smiles that took his breath away. “Tell me what works for you.”
“Thursday?” he suggested.
“Are you telling me or asking me?” She sounded amused.
Of course she was amused—because he was acting like an imbecile.
Because he was a genius with computers and an idiot with women.
“Um.”
Yeah, that single syllable wasn’t going to do anything to improve her opinion of him. Nothing was as effective as incomplete words and incomprehensible sounds to make an intelligent man sound like a blathering fool.
He tore his gaze from her face to check the calendar app on his phone.
“Thursday works for me,” he said. A statement, not a question this time. “I’ve got a meeting at Blake Mining in the morning, but I should be done by ten.”
He ventured another glance in her direction, and somehow managed not to stumble over his words as he added, “For sure no later than eleven.”
“Here’s an idea—why don’t you come by Twilight Valley when you’re done? Whether it’s eleven or twelve or even later, I’ll be there.”
“I can do that,” he agreed, adding the meeting to his calendar to ensure he wouldn’t forget the next time.
But as he lifted his hand to wave goodbye, he felt confident, now that he’d met Claire Lamontagne, that he wouldn’t need an alarm on his phone to remind him to think about her.
Claire might have thought her trip into town had been a complete waste of time if not for the fact that she had dinner plans with her best friend. But it wasn’t Sarah who was on her mind as she sipped her iced tea and pretended to peruse Diggers’ menu—it was Sarah’s unexpectedly hunky cousin.
She’d been certain she knew what to expect when she pressed the doorbell. According to Sarah, her cousin was seriously introverted and more than a little socially awkward. But she’d promised her friend that when it came to computers, there was no one who knew more than Devin.
So Claire had been prepared to meet a tech geek, and maybe Devin Blake was that. But he was also ridiculously attractive, and she hadn’t been prepared for the gut-punch of awareness that hit her when he opened the door.
It had been a long time since she’d experienced such an immediate and intense response to a man—and while it should have been a relief to know that her broken heart had mended, she would have been happier still if she hadn’t responded to her best friend’s cousin. Because the absolute last thing she needed right now was the complication of an attraction that she had no intention of ever acting on.
“You’re frowning,” Sarah noted, as she slid into the vacant booth across from Claire. “Why are you frowning?”
She consciously smoothed her brow and offered her friend a smile. “Hello to you, too.”
“What’s wrong?” Sarah pressed. “Did the meeting with Devin not go well?”
“Actually, the meeting didn’t go at all.”
Her friend sighed. “He completely forgot about it, didn’t he?”
“That’s the impression I got.”
“Probably because I didn’t specifically remind him to put the date and time in his calendar.”
“Is he that much of a scatterbrain?” Claire asked, starting to rethink the whole plan. Not that she didn’t appreciate Sarah’s recommendation—and the possibility that Devin might be willing to do the work at a discounted rate—but she really wanted to get her website up sooner rather than later.
“He’s that much of a genius,” Sarah clarified. “Sometimes, when his attention is focused on something else, he doesn’t pay enough attention to a conversation to retain the details afterward.”
Before Claire could respond, their server stopped by to take their order.
Though Sarah hadn’t even opened her menu, both women had eaten at the local bar and grill often enough over the years that they had the contents memorized.
“I’ll have the buttermilk fried chicken with mashed potatoes and gravy,” Claire said.
“Spinach salad with grilled chicken and soda water with a twist of lime,” Sarah added.
“That sounds a lot healthier than what I’m having,” Claire acknowledged.
The server turned back, notepad still in hand. “Did you want to change your order?”
“No way.” But Claire softened her response with a smile. “And make sure the cook doesn’t skimp on the gravy.”
Sarah sighed. “If I ate like you, I’d need a whole new wardrobe within a week.”
“Come out to Twilight Valley and help me muck out stalls every day and you won’t have to worry about calorie counts.”
“Thanks, but I like my desk job. Well, most of the time.”
“Rough day?” Claire asked.
“Not rough, but not particularly interesting, either. So let’s talk about yours instead—and why you were frowning when I came in.”
“I was just wondering if maybe I should find someone else to build my website,” she said.
Her friend winced. “Did Devin really make such a bad impression?”
“No,” she admitted.
In fact, he hadn’t made a bad impression at all. Even now, remembering the intensity in his hazel eyes flecked with gold, Claire felt a stirring of something low in her belly that she didn’t want to acknowledge.
No more men. No more heartbreak.
For the past seven months, that had been her mantra—a promise to herself. And not once, in all that time, had she been tempted to break that promise. But now, after one brief meeting with Devin Blake, her hormones were clamoring, urging her to reconsider.
Not going to happen.
“Did he indicate that he didn’t want to do it?”
The question snapped Claire out of her reverie and back to the present. “What?”
“Did Devin say that he didn’t want to set up your website?”
“No,” she said again.
“Then give him another chance,” Sarah urged.
“I will.” But only because she needed a website. “If he actually shows up at Twilight Valley on Thursday.”
“Inviting him to the ranch was a great idea,” her friend enthused. “He’ll be able to see firsthand what you’re doing and why the website is so important.”
“That was only part of my rationale. The bigger part was that, if he forgets about our meeting again, at least I won’t have wasted time trekking into town.”
“Is it really a waste when it gives you an excuse to have dinner with your BFF?” Sarah asked, feigning hurt.
“You know I’m happy to come into town to see you anytime,” Claire said, smiling her thanks to the server as he delivered their plates to the table. “But I’m even happier in blue jeans and cowboy boots.”
“I don’t know why you felt you had to dress up to meet with Devin, but it’s nice to see you wearing something other than blue jeans and cowboy boots for a change.”
Sarah’s comment reminded Claire that she had a whole closet full of fancy clothes that she had no use for anymore. She’d had fun shopping for and wearing them when she lived in Texas, but they were wholly unsuitable for her new life in Nevada, and she made a mental note to box them up and drop them off at the women’s shelter in Battle Mountain at her earliest opportunity.
“Cowboy boots are comfortable,” she said now, dipping her fork into the mound of potatoes smothered in gravy. “These shoes—not so much. I don’t know how you manage to walk around in heels all day—every day—and not break an ankle.”
“Practice,” Sarah said simply, poking at her salad.
“If I practiced wearing heels in the barn, I’d definitely break an ankle.”
“You’re right,” her friend agreed, a sudden sparkle in her eyes. “Luckily, I know a better place for you to practice.”
Claire didn’t ask.
Sarah answered anyway. “Las Vegas.”
“Or I could stick to wearing cowboy boots,” she suggested—a much more preferable alternative, in her opinion.
“I’m serious,” Sarah said.
“So am I.”
Her friend chewed on a mouthful of leafy greens. “You’ve been working too hard lately—you deserve a break. And it’s been a long time since we’ve had a girls’ weekend.”
“I don’t know about a weekend, but I could use a spa day,” Claire admitted. Because a break sounded good, but time with her BFF sounded even better.
“A weekend in Vegas,” Sarah insisted, opening a search engine on her phone to browse options. “With a spa suite at Aria. Or maybe we should book at The Palazzo, to take advantage of everything Canyon Ranch has to offer. Or Caesars Palace. Have you experienced the Arctic Ice room?”
Claire shook her head.
“You’ll love it,” her friend promised, as she continued to scroll through hotel options. “Let’s book something for the end of the month.”
“It all sounds fabulous.” Tempting—and very pricey. “But there’s no way I could leave the ranch for a whole weekend.”
Sarah pouted. “There’s no point in going to Vegas for a day.”
“So we’ll indulge ourselves with a few hours at Serenity,” she said, referring to the local spa.
“We can do that another time. I really want to go to Vegas the last weekend of May.”
Claire sliced off a piece of chicken and popped it into her mouth. “What’s happening in Vegas the last weekend of May that you so desperately want to be there?” she asked, after she’d finished chewing.
Sarah looked at her with concern. “It’s not what’s happening there but what’s not happening here.”
“Huh?”
“Do you honestly expect me to believe that you forgot?”
Frowning, she opened the calendar app on her phone and skipped to the end of May. “Oh.”
“You really did,” Sarah realized, stunned.
Claire nodded slowly, feeling a little stunned herself. “I forgot my wedding day.”
