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Welcome Home, Cowboy by Annie Rains (1)

Chapter 1

Rain pelted against the old Honda Civic’s window as Julie Chandler sucked in a breath and held it. Whoever said you couldn’t go home again was wrong. Unless they meant you couldn’t go home and expect to find a job. Since returning to the small town of Seaside, North Carolina, she’d applied for nearly every exercise-related job posted, and no one had so much as called her back.

Releasing the breath, she glanced at the folder sitting beside her on the passenger seat. It was a long shot, but she’d poured her soul into writing this proposal. If there wasn’t a job for her here, she’d simply have to make one. At least that’s what she’d decided after several glasses of cheap red Muscadine last night, right around the time she should’ve been going to bed.

She parked in front of the Veterans’ Center and checked her reflection in the rearview mirror. She’d covered up her dark circles and splashed some color on her face before driving over. She flashed the mirror what she hoped was a confident smile. The feeling of confidence evaded her these days, however, thanks to a relationship that had gone on far too long.

Every muscle in her body tightened at the thought of her ex. Damn it. She took another breath, forced another smile.

Confidence. You’ve got this.

Grabbing her umbrella and the folder on her seat, she stepped out just as a truck came splashing into the spot next to hers. She shrieked as muddy water rode up her pants leg. Then she dropped her unopened umbrella on the ground, and—oh, crap! Her proposal fell into the shallow puddle at her feet.

“Noooo!” she cried, bending down to pick it up. The golden folder was a shade darker on the corner, evidence that the water had soaked through. She yanked it up and held it against her body, no doubt muddying her crisp white shirt now, too. Then she hurried to the sheltered awning, shaking her head like a wet dog, which was exactly how she felt, thanks to the idiot in the truck.

“Are you all right?” a deep voice drawled behind her.

She ignored it because if she didn’t her cool demeanor might unravel. She was low on sleep and high on caffeine—never a good combination. Instead, she continued toward the Veterans’ Center’s entrance. The director had told her on the phone that she only had fifteen minutes to spare, and Julie didn’t want to waste any time. She hurried down the hall, turned right, and hesitated at Allison Carmichael’s office door. Maybe she could use one of those minutes to take a quick trip to the bathroom, freshen up, and settle her nerves.

Too late.

The door opened and Allison stood before her, dry as a martini. Her red-toned hair was perfectly straight and cascading over her shoulders instead of in rain-soaked chunks. “Julie!” Concern distorted her beautiful features. “What happened to you?”

Julie shook her head. Allison had been one grade ahead of her in high school. Their paths had always crossed, but never converged. And perhaps that was best today also. “I, uh…I…” She held up the dampened folder. “It’s raining outside.”

Allison nodded. “I can see that.” She laughed a little. “So, what did you want to see me about?”

Julie swallowed. “I know your website says you aren’t hiring, but I have a proposal.”

Allison’s gaze dropped to the golden folder in her hand. “Okay. Well, I was just going to make myself a cup of hot tea in the community kitchen. Looks like you could use one, too. We’ll talk there.”

“Sounds perfect,” Julie said, following her. As she did, she focused on her breath. Yes, she needed a job, but she also really believed that Seaside’s active and retired military needed the service she hoped to offer. Growing up in a military family, she’d seen how her father had always seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders. She wanted to ease that burden for the military if she could—at least a little.

“Go ahead and sit down. I’ll just get the kettle going,” Allison said, pointing to a small wooden table off to the side of the kitchen.

Julie sat and took several deep breaths, praying that her nerves would settle.

A few minutes later, Allison set two steaming mugs in front of them. “I don’t want to rush you, but I only have a few minutes before my next meeting.” She pointed at the folder in front of Julie. “What do you have here?”

“It’s a proposal. I’m sorry, but it got wet as I was coming in,” Julie explained. “I can bring you a fresh copy later.”

“That’d be great. Looks like you dropped this one in a puddle.”

“Just for a few seconds. Five-second rule.” Julie laughed nervously. Wow. Interviews really did trip her up.

“It’s okay. Why don’t you just tell me what you’re proposing?” Allison smiled warmly at her and pushed the folder to the side. She reached for her hot cup of tea, leaned back in her seat, and crossed her long, perfect legs.

“Sure.” Julie wrapped her hands around her mug, soaking in the warmth and praying for something smart to say—or at least something halfway intelligible. “I want to do yoga with the Marines.”

Allison’s smile dropped a polite notch.

Julie sucked in a breath and continued talking. “Yoga is being used for stress-reduction programs all over the country. There have even been programs for Marines with post-traumatic stress disorder. Lots of programs, actually.” Excitement surged through her as she explained what she’d come up with last night. “It’s amazing what this exercise is capable of doing. It lowers heart rates, focuses the mind, strengthens core muscles.”

Allison nodded, appearing to listen as Julie rambled on about the benefits of yoga and how the exercise had been her lifesaver during college when her test-taking anxiety had gotten out of control.

“So you went to school for yoga?” Allison asked.

“No. I majored in business with a minor in exercise science. But I’m a certified yoga instructor. I think offering a program like this here at the Veterans’ Center would be a wonderful way to support our military men and women returning home from deployment. I’ve heard that mental health is an underserved need here. I want to help.” Julie scooted back in her chair and stood. “A few basic poses are all you really need to get started.”

She was talking quickly now, a mixture of excitement and nerves. She’d always been horrible at interviews, but this one wasn’t going so badly. Allison appeared to be listening, interested even. “I’ll show you.” Folding her body forward, Julie secured her hands on the white tile floor at her feet and stepped back, shaping her body into an inverted V. “This is Downward-Facing Dog,” she said, looking at the world upside down between her knees. “It’s one of the most basic positions. You’d be surprised how much focus it takes to stay inverted like this.” The blood rushed to her head as she spoke.

Then two combat boots came into view between her legs. Her eyes widened. Focus shattered. The blood drained from her body.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty focused,” a man said in a smooth Southern drawl. Standing behind her, she imagined that he had a perfect view of her…

“Oh!” Julie’s balance shifted. She wobbled, as one foot started to slide out from under her. Trying to gracefully stand was useless at this point. It was either go to her knees or fall on her butt. Neither of which spoke to her skill as a yoga instructor.

As she started to fall, the man’s hands steadied her waist, fraying her composure completely. Then he gently pulled her upright, holding her tightly against his body for a solid moment that felt like forever before letting go.

“Sorry ’bout that. I guess I startled you,” he said, as she turned to face him, finding herself a little too close for comfort.

She swiped at the blond hair in her face and blinked through the burning in her cheeks. There was also an unwelcome buzz humming in her stomach—the kind that came with a man’s touch. Her lips parted as she took in his cowboy hat and pale-as-water eyes. “I know you,” she said. “You’re Lawson Phillips.” She’d met him last year when her sister had started dating his best friend.

Lawson smiled, slow and easy. “Nice to see you again, Julie. You dropped your umbrella outside.” He held it out to her.

She looked at it, then back up at him. “You’re the idiot behind the wheel of that truck.”

As Julie took her umbrella, Lawson tried to contain his grin—and not look down again at her very nice curves. When he’d arrived at the Veterans’ Center to fix a few squeaky cabinets for the director, he’d expected to see a bunch of retired Marines. He hadn’t expected to run into Julie Chandler.

“You two know each other?” Allison Carmichael asked, seated at the table in front of him.

“You could say that. Her sister married my best friend last year. Which kind of makes us friends-in-law, or something like that.” Smooth, Lawson.

Julie didn’t smile. He remembered that about her. Before his last deployment, he’d tried like hell to flirt with the woman, but she was untouchable. She’d barely given him the time of day back then, or even looked him in the eye. Similarly, she tore her gaze from his now and returned her focus to the center’s director. “Um. Well…” She hurried back to the table and collected a folder. “I know you said you were in a hurry. I can get you a dry copy and let you review it in your free time, if you’re interested.”

Allison nodded. “That would be great, Julie. The owner here has said we won’t be offering new programs until next year. You never know when things will change, though. Military life is synonymous with change, right?”

“Indeed,” Julie said.

“And I’m always interested in new ways to meet our service members’ needs.”

Julie smiled, but Lawson could see it was a façade. The truth shone in her green eyes. Defeat. “Thanks for your time, Allison.” She shook Allison’s hand, offered a sideways glare at him, and headed out of the kitchen.

“The cabinets are fixed,” he told Allison.

“You’re the best.” The slender redhead pointed her index finger at him. They’d had drinks a time or two before, but both had realized early on that their easy banter warranted friendship only. And considering Lawson’s current state of mind since returning home from the desert, friends were all he needed these days.

“Well, if that’s all, I have somewhere I need to be.” Like work. But that wasn’t where he was running to right now. Despite the little voice inside his head telling him to leave it alone—leave her alone—he was going to check on Julie.

“Sure. Thanks again, Lawson. Volunteers make this place possible.”

With a nod, he waved and hurried down the hall toward the front entrance. With any luck she’d still be there and he could apologize.

Stepping out into the rain, which had fizzled to a light sprinkle now, it looked like luck was on his side today.

And luck was definitely not on Julie’s.

Her engine whinnied like a sick mare, then fell flat. He watched her from the covered walkway in front of the parking lot for a few minutes as she attempted to crank her car again, and again. After several tries, she slammed a hand against her steering wheel. Then she folded over and rested her head there.

Stepping out into the light rain, Lawson walked to her car window and tapped. She jumped, nearly out of those wet clothes she was wearing—which he had to admit would be a sight for his sore eyes—and stared at him. This was the second time he’d startled her this morning. Three if he counted splashing in beside her when he’d parked.

“Move over,” he ordered.

Her chin lifted stubbornly. Then she folded her arms in front of her chest, making cleavage pop through the still-damp shirt she was wearing.

Eyes in your head, Lawson, his mind chided.

Thunder crackled and then the light sprinkle turned into a sudden downpour. “Please, move over,” he said, unsure if she heard him anymore over the white noise of rain splattering the pavement all around him. If he had any sense he’d just get into his truck and leave her here. That was obviously what she wanted. She could call for help inside if she needed it. Instead, true to his roots, he stayed put.

Finally, she crawled into the passenger seat and he whipped the car door open, stuffing himself behind the steering wheel of the little car. This was one of the reasons he drove a big truck. He needed leg room, arm room, room to wear his cowboy hat inside if he wanted. Pulling off his hat so he could straighten, he turned the key several times before pulling it out of the ignition. “Looks like you’re riding with me.”

“I…well, I…That’s really not necessary.”

“You want me to leave you sitting here in the rain?” he asked. “A ride is the least I can do for interrupting your meeting like that. I’m really sorry.”

Julie folded her arms in front of her chest again. It wasn’t her cleavage that caught his attention this time; it was the look sparking in her eyes. Something about him was rubbing this woman all wrong. “And splashing in the parking lot like a bat out of hell,” she added.

“I was driving the speed limit. You opened your car door as I was turning in. How was I supposed to know that would happen?”

If looks could kick a guy in the nuts, he’d be bent over right about now.

“She just needs a little time. A few more cranks and I’m sure she’ll start.”

Lawson stared at her. “She?” he asked, a small laugh escaping.

“My car.”

He ran his hand over the side of his jaw, willing himself not to laugh again. Julie was obviously in no mood for his humor. “All right. I’ll make you a deal. I’ll crank her one more time. If she starts, then I’ll leave you alone. If she doesn’t, then I’m giving you a ride. I can come back and look under the hood later, after the storm passes.”

Those crossed arms hugged her body even tighter, and he had to force himself not to look down. “Fine,” she finally said. Her gaze dropped to the keys in his hands.

“Good.” He slipped the key into the ignition and turned, expecting the metal gnashing sound to answer back. In which case he’d add chauffeur to his list of job duties this morning. Instead, her car revved to life.

Julie pushed on his shoulder. “See? Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll slip back behind the wheel and be going home now.”

Lawson didn’t budge. “I don’t trust it. Her,” he clarified, unable to help himself. “Let me follow you back to your house. I want to make sure you get there all right. And I meant what I said. I’ll come take a look later.”

“Not necessary.”

Lawson contained his grin. He couldn’t decide if her stubbornness was a turnoff or a complete turn-on. “Have you ever heard of chivalry? Women are supposed to like that stuff.” And most usually did. He slid his hat back on his head and pushed open the driver-side door. “I’ll follow behind you and then be on my way. You’re staying at your sister’s old place, right?”

Julie’s eyebrows lowered. “How did you know that?” she asked.

“Relax. Micah mentioned that you were staying in Kat’s house right now. Just wait for me to get in my truck.” He stepped out, adjusting his cowboy hat to keep the rain out of his eyes, and walked toward his truck. It’d been attraction at first sight when he’d met Julie last year, on his end at least. Julie, on the other hand, wasn’t interested. Same as now, only he wasn’t flirting with her at the moment. All he was trying to do was help.

He opened his truck door, got inside, and looked over at Julie’s car as he cranked his own engine. Except Julie’s car wasn’t there anymore. With a glance in the rearview mirror, he saw her turning out of the parking lot. “Ah, hell,” he said, rearing back and chasing after her. Turnoff, he decided.

Five minutes later, he slowed his truck as Julie pulled into her driveway. He watched her step out of her car, then hurry toward the front door, not bothering to look back.

“You’re welcome,” he muttered to himself, watching her fidget with her house keys. They dropped to the porch and she bent to pick them up, reminding him of the position she’d been in when he’d walked up on her this morning.

Turn-on, he thought, despite himself. Julie Chandler was definitely a turn-on.

Seeing that she’d gotten home safely, he continued driving, creating as much distance as he could between himself and the pretty yogi who clearly hated his guts. That served him well. Otherwise, he might be tempted to go knock on that front door and offer to help pull that stick out of her sweet little ass.

He didn’t have time for another sparring match with Julie Chandler, though. He’d been released to get back to regular duty last Friday. No more paper pushing for him. He needed to go home and put on some dry clothes. Then it was time he got back to doing what he loved—flying.

Julie peeked through the blinds in the front window and exhaled as she saw Lawson’s truck fade into the distance. Her morning so far had gone about as disastrously as possible.

Heading to the fridge, she collected some fruit for her morning smoothie. She might as well enjoy this, because if she didn’t secure a job quickly, this might be her last decent meal for a while. She peeled a couple of bananas and tossed them into her blender. If Lawson hadn’t walked in, Allison might have found a job for her. If he hadn’t ruined her proposal packet, Allison might be reviewing it right now.

Tossing in some frozen berries, she chided herself. She wasn’t being fair and she knew it. Lawson had only been trying to help. After her experience with her ex, she’d promised herself she wouldn’t turn into one of those bitter, man-hating women. But that’s exactly how she’d acted this morning. Ugh.

She scooped a couple generous spoonfuls of yogurt into her blender and pressed the ON button, watching as the fruit swirled around, surrendering to the machine’s blades. Next time she saw Lawson, she owed him an apology. She was a nice person. Daren hadn’t robbed her of that. She didn’t owe Lawson a date, however, which is what he’d tried so hard to get when she’d first met him last year. Dating was the furthest thing from what she needed right now.

Pouring her smoothie into a cup, she walked to the kitchen counter and sat. She pulled her computer in front of her to continue looking for jobs as she drank. There had to be something out there for her.

As she scrolled through the new postings on a local job site, hope shriveled inside her.

DOG WALKER

CHEF

BABYSITTER

She had no experience with kids or dogs, not that she didn’t like them. And this smoothie was as good as she got when it came to skills in the kitchen. She could make the basics, but that was it. With a sigh, she grabbed her drink and yoga mat and decided to go do something she was good at: yoga on the beach. She’d found that even if it was raining here, the sun was usually shining just east of the Seaside Bridge. Maybe a few calming poses with nature would take her mind off unemployment, stacking bills, and a certain sexy cowboy turned Marine.

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