Hitching the Cowboy Read online

  “Yeah, we’ll go check it out after we feed the chickens,” I answer before Fisher can respond. “We have to be done by one thirty, though, to get on the road by two.”

  “Oh, that’s right. You’re bailing this weekend.” He grunts.

  “Fuckin’ right. Bye!” Diesel walks toward the door that leads to the equipment barn with his arm extended, flipping the bird. They haven’t gotten along since Fisher stole his girlfriend Gretchen three years ago. Though they weren’t “official,” Fisher swept her off her feet. They’ve been together ever since, and she even moved to Sacramento to be with him and comes back to visit her family when Fisher works during the summers. It’s been tense, and I’m constantly playing referee.

  “Radio if you need anything else,” I tell him before following Diesel out and shutting the door.

  “I know he’s your cousin and all, but I hate his city boy I’m better than you attitude,” he says, jumping into the passenger seat of the side-by-side.

  Taking the driver’s side, I crank the engine and give him a moment to calm down. “You hate him because he’s with Gretchen. Otherwise, he’s not that bad,” I tell him with a shrug, not wanting to take sides. What Fisher did wasn’t cool, but Diesel wasn’t exactly offering exclusivity either.

  “Pfft,” he huffs in response. “He can have that two-timing witch.”

  I smirk, knowing he doesn’t mean it. He liked her a lot, and they’d been on and off for six months before Fisher strolled into town. She was hoping for some kind of commitment from Diesel, and he stupidly didn’t offer it to her.

  “We’re going to Vegas. You’ll have plenty of opportunities to find a rebound,” I remind him, taking off and driving us toward the chicken coops. Once we’re there, we collect the eggs, throw out feed, and place fresh hay on the ground and in the nesting boxes. Typically, one of my younger cousins would do this grunt work, but with less than a month of school left, they’re all staying up late to study for final exams. I think it’s just an excuse for them to get out of their morning chores. However, my sister, Rowan, who’s three years younger, is coming home next week from the University of Houston, where she’s finishing up her second year of undergrad studies in finance. When she comes home, she’ll be able to help with some ranch chores, but she’ll probably spend most of her time working at the family bar.

  “I’ve had rebounds,” he states proudly. “But it always comes back to bite me in the ass. There aren't enough options in this small town. And well, you keep telling me your sister is off-limits so…” He flashes a shit-eating smirk, purposely pushing my buttons.

  “And I’ll tell you again…” I warn, narrowing my eyes at him. Rowan turns twenty soon, and I know she’s not innocent, but she’s my baby sister, and I don’t want Diesel’s lips or hands anywhere near her. He’s got a reputation when it comes to breaking hearts, and I don’t need to kick my best friend’s ass for hurting her because I will.

  Once we’re done dealing with the chickens, we drive to the B&B and deliver the eggs. It’s a tradition to sit and eat before heading back out, but with our shortened day, we just grab a quick bite and refill our coffee. Before we make it out the door, my mom enters wearing scrubs, and she smiles at me.

  “Hey, honey!”

  “Hey, Ma. We’re just heading out so we can get done early today.” I wrap an arm around her, towering over her petite frame. She’s been a nurse for over twenty-five years and commutes to the hospital in San Angelo, where my uncle Evan and his wife, Emily, work as doctors. “You leaving for work soon, or did you just come off the night shift?”

  “I’ll be heading in soon. Em and I are carpooling, but I wanted to say goodbye before you two kids left.” She squeezes Diesel’s cheek, which he hates but smiles through the pain. She’s referred to him as her “bonus son” for as long as we’ve been best friends.

  “We’ll be back before ya know it, Ma,” I reassure her, so she releases her hold on me.

  “You better behave yourselves. I mean it.” She jabs her finger in my shoulder.

  “Yeah, Riley,” Diesel goads, stuffing his hands in his front pockets and leaning back on his heels.

  “I was mostly referring to you,” Ma says pointedly.

  “Me?” He brings a hand to his chest. “I’m an angel,” he protests.

  My mother snorts. “Please. I married a cowboy. I know all about you…angels.”

  “I’m sure Dad was a complete Southern gentleman when you first met in Florida.” I waggle my brows at her, knowing that’ll make her blush and hopefully get us off the hook from hearing her “behavior” speech.

  “Who was a Southern gentleman?” Grandma Bishop walks in, immediately pulling me in for a hug.

  “Dad was when he first met Ma,” I respond. “She’s worried about us going to Vegas,” I explain.

  “I raised all my boys to be gentlemen, so he better have been!” she responds, then leans in and lowers her voice. “Though your mother showed up a few months later to announce she was expecting you, so perhaps he was too much of a gentleman if you get my drift…”

  “Grandma!” I laugh.

  “Oh my God.” My mom groans. “Just do as I say and not as I do, okay?”

  I grin. “You got it. No making you a grandma just yet.” I flash her a wink, and her eyes go wide.

  “I’m too young! And so are you!” She glowers at me, keeping her lips in a firm don’t push me expression. My mom is sweet as candy, but when she means business, you don’t mess with her.

  “Promise, Ma. Plus, I’m gonna be rooming with this drunk. There won’t be any inappropriate fornicating happening,” I tell her.

  “Don’t use me as an excuse. What he meant to say is he’ll have whiskey di—”

  I jab my elbow hard into his ribs before he can finish his sentence. “Dude, my grandma is here.”

  “My apologies, Grandma Bishop. I should be more formal.” He flashes a shit-eating grin at me before he continues, “Whiskey penis.”

  “And we’re leaving now…” I roughly grab the back of his shirt and push his stupid ass toward the door.

  “Bye!” He turns around and waves before I can open the door and shove him out.

  “You’re an asshole,” I say as soon as we’re on the porch.

  “Your family loves me,” he mocks, stumbling down the stairs.

  Rolling my eyes, I follow him to the side-by-side so we can finish our shit and leave on time.

  By two, we’re packed and on the road, heading toward the airport. “Vegas bound!” Diesel shouts out the passenger side window, slamming his hand against the door.

  “Why do I have a feeling I’m gonna have to watch you like a hawk this weekend?” I shake my head.

  “Pfft. As long as neither of us comes back with an STD or a future baby mama, we’ll be fine! Isn’t the whole point of this birthday trip to celebrate and get fucked up?” he counters in a snarky tone, making me want to smack his you-know-I’m-right grin off his face.

  “As long as we come back in one piece.” I shrug. “But I’m still not babysitting your ass.”

  “Deal!” He holds up his fist and bumps it with mine, but I’m still not convinced.

  This might be the trip of a lifetime, or it might change everything—either are possible with two rowdy cowboys going to Vegas for the first time.

  Chapter Two

  Zoey

  The whole week has been a clusterfuck, and I can’t wait until this weekend when I can go to Vegas and enjoy myself. After I graduated from cosmetology school, I rented a chair at a busy salon known for its crazy and outlandish styles such as rainbow-colored highlights and complicated updos. Though I work in Phoenix, our masterpieces look as if they should be in New York City. I have clients as young as five and as old as eighty, and while I enjoy cutting hair and being creative, I long for so much more.

  Trina, a woman in her mid-fifties, arrives right on time and sits in my chair. I see her once a month because she’s particular about covering her grays. The wom
an is beautiful, sassy, and doesn’t take shit from anyone.

  “How’s your week going?” I ask once I’ve fastened the cape around her neck. She fills me in on all her family drama and the husband she’s two seconds from divorcing. “Be right back. I’m going to mix your color, and we’ll get started.”

  “I should’ve left him years ago,” she says as I brush the dye onto her roots. “Cheating asshole wanted me as nothing but a trophy wife. Now he’s got even more money, and I should take every red cent,” Trina huffs. Listening to people’s adventures is one of the highlights of my day, and considering everything I’m told, I should be paid as their therapist, not a stylist.

  “If only I were your age again.” Her eyes meet mine in the mirror, and it causes me to smile.

  “What would you do?” I ask, actually intrigued.

  “I’d do it all. I would live my life regardless of what everyone else wanted me to do. I’d move away. Be a free spirit. Spontaneous even. Travel more. Hell, I’d even get a dog,” she tells me. “Maybe two.”

  The last part has me snickering.

  “Dean’s allergies are ridiculous,” she complains with an eye roll. “We have an aquarium. It’s about as far as it goes for pets.”

  Once I’m fully done applying her color, I set a timer and tell her to hold tight while I go clean out the bowl and brush.

  “Just wait for the right man. Don’t rush into anything,” she warns when I return.

  All I can do is smile because the only man interested in me is my dad’s friend’s son, and he’s ten years older than I am. Benjamin and I have gone on a few dates, which I agreed to just to appease my parents, but that’s about it. He’s a hotshot doctor, an up and coming heart surgeon who’s determined to take over the medical field with his smarts, charm, and good looks. He even gave himself the nickname “Life Saver.” My parents are in love with him, and I’m trying to feel something but refuse to force it.

  After I’ve rinsed out the color, then blow-dried and styled Trina’s hair, she pays, leaving me a big tip. I adore her, and she enjoys spending her husband’s money, so I have no complaints.

  My next appointment isn’t for two hours, so instead of staying in the salon all day, I decide to go out for lunch. Twenty minutes later, I stop at a sandwich shop downtown. Taking a seat outside, I eat, soaking up the Phoenix sun, wishing I could stay in this spot all day. As I’m taking my last bite, my phone dings with a text, and I pick it up and see a message from my sister, Summer.

  Summer: Three more days and we’re flying out! I CANNOT WAIT!

  Zoey: I know! I’m itching for a vacation.

  I love taking road trips and seeing different places. Having schedule flexibility was one of the reasons I decided to do hair in the first place. I didn’t want to be tied to a nine-to-five job and work for someone else. I needed the freedom to come and go as I please, and with my current position, I have that. Typically, every few months, I’ll get in my car and drive somewhere I’ve never been before. This year, though, I’ve been trying to save up for an apartment to move out of my parents’ house, so I haven’t gone anywhere yet.

  Summer: 72 HOURS!

  I smile at the thought of going to Vegas. Her best friend even scheduled a club crawl tour bus so we can easily barhop. Summer’s been planning her wedding since she was five years old, including her bachelorette party.

  Upon checking the time, I see I have a little under an hour until my next client arrives, so I go back to the salon and wait. The rest of the day flies by quickly without any cancellations, which is great, but it also means standing for hours without a break.

  Even though I’m exhausted when I get home, I take the time to eat with my parents. My dad isn’t home often for dinner, considering he’s a doctor and usually gets called in even after long workdays, so I try to spend as much time with them as I can, though the conversation rarely goes in a positive direction.

  “How’s work going?” Dad asks as he scrolls through his phone. I’ve gotta give him props for even asking, considering I can’t remember the last time he did.

  “Great, actually. Pretty busy, but I can’t complain.” I keep my response short and sweet because I know what’s coming next.

  He sighs, displeased. “You’re so smart, Zoey. You would make a wonderful physician. People adore you, and you have great people skills, just like Summer does. You two got that from me,” he says with a small smirk. “There’s still time to change your mind and go to school,” he adds before stuffing his mouth. Not a week passes without a reminder from him about how great I would’ve been following in his footsteps.

  Summer’s a few years older than I am, and she’s already graduated with a perfect GPA in pre-med and is working to become a doctor just like my father. Then there’s me, who decided not to go to college or keep the family legacy of practicing medicine alive. Now they’re convinced if I marry someone who they approve of—someone who comes from money or has money—then all will be well in the world, and as soon as that thought hits, my mother chimes in.

  “So, how’s Benjamin?” She looks at me with bright blue eyes, hoping I’ll say exactly what she wants to hear.

  “He’s fine, I guess. Not sure.” I shrug, hoping she’ll drop the topic. “Haven’t chatted with him in a few days,” I admit and feel the disappointment streaming off her when she furrows her brows.

  My father speaks up. “He’s a great kid. You should really give him a chance, Zoey. Comes from a good family of doctors and is well mannered. Great at his job, which pays extremely well. He’ll make a name for himself without a doubt. Hell, he’s well on his way now, considering all the experience he’s had in surgery.”

  Yes, because that’s all that matters.

  “He’s also way older than me,” I remind them just as I have several times before.

  “Your father is ten years older than I am.” Mom glowers. “I keep him young. Plus, marrying an older man means he’s more mature and knows what he wants in life. No drama or games.”

  I nearly choke on my food and wish this conversation would end, so I change the subject.

  “So, the Vegas trip is this weekend. Don’t forget we fly out on Friday.” I hurry and take a bite so I don’t have to talk.

  “You really need to be safe while you’re there. Take pepper spray, and don’t talk to strangers. Sometimes you’re too friendly and will chat with anyone,” Mom tells me as if I’m a five-year-old child. She’s always so worried about me, probably because I’m nothing like her.

  “I won’t be alone. I’ll have Summer and all her friends. We’re not leaving each other’s side,” I tell her, hoping she’ll finally get off my ass about it.

  Dad breathes in heavily. “I don’t know why Summer would plan something so childish. Most women do spa days or vacations in New York. Vegas is just…trashy.” He gives me a pointed look, and his judgy tone can’t be mistaken for anything else. He despises the idea.

  “I even offered to pay for you girls to go to Bali for three days, and Summer refused,” Dad grunts. I think it’s the first time Summer has really gone against their wishes, and I’m actually proud as hell of her for doing what she wanted. Our parents tend to have a tight hold on us, especially me, and while I want to move out, I’m not sure how they’ll react when I actually do. Though it’s ridiculous, they’re more focused on marrying me off so I’m “taken care of.” I’m sure that’s the only way they’ll accept me leaving.

  After we finish eating, Dad tells us good night, then heads toward the stairs. Since he has to be at the hospital at four in the morning, he goes to bed before the sun completely sets. I load the dirty plates into the dishwasher as Mom puts the extra food in containers. I’m being standoffish and just want to go to bed. I’ve had a long day.

  “I know you get annoyed by us sometimes, but we just want the best for you, Zoey,” she tells me as she closes the fridge.

  “I know.” I give her a smile, wiping off my hands on a dish towel.

  “Will you p
lease give Benjamin a chance? For us?” She’s so hopeful, and I don’t dare tell her no. “You two are perfect together.”

  I nod, not wanting to argue, and then give her a hug before going upstairs. All I’ve ever wanted is to make my parents proud, and the least I can do is try.

  “Are you ready?” Summer asks from behind me. I’ve put off packing all week, and now I’m rushing since we have to leave in ten minutes to make our flight.

  “Almost,” I say, turning and shooting her a cheeky grin. She shakes her head, but a smirk crosses her lips. I’m known for doing things last minute, but this time, I really messed up. I stuff every sort of outfit I could ever need inside my suitcase, then zip it up. At this point, all I can do is hope for the best. Standing, I grab my shit and walk toward her, ecstatic to be spending the weekend with my big sister and her friends before she gets married.

  “Mom and Dad have already given me the be-careful speech,” I tell her matter-of-factly. “Along with the don’t do drugs, don’t talk to strangers, and don’t have sex. In other words, don’t have fun.” I snort.

  She smirks. “I’ve gotten warned too, but I’m not worried about it. What they don’t know won’t hurt them.”

  “It is your last weekend of being a single woman! I’m sure you could find a fling or two. What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas. Amiright?” I joke. Summer’s prim and proper most of the time; the exact cookie-cutter daughter my parents wanted. I’m the spontaneous and eccentric wild child. They don’t know what to do with me most of the time other than try to force me to fit in their box. I’ve failed to follow their wishes, but it’s not because I’m trying to rebel. I’ve almost come to terms with being the black sheep of the family. It’s hard for them to understand me because I’m not like them and I’m not interested in the same stuff they are. I think on a different brain wave. I’m creative instead of analytical. I’d rather go with the flow than plan my entire life, and that’s incomprehensible to them.