“You look like your cat died. All pale and sickly. Pinch your cheeks. Get some color moving around in there.”
Admittedly, I was a little nervous. What we were doing was ridiculous. The plan that Bev had concocted was no little charade. She had decided that we—Bev, Wyatt and I—should host a rodeo for kids with special needs. She helped me create a nonprofit charity: The Special Spurs Rodeo. It was intended to be a charity event but also just an all-around fun day. Getting her plan up and running had totally taken over my life. I was on the phone all day, calling around looking for sponsors and participants, applying for grants, and trying to find a perfect venue. Basically, I started a foundation and was planning an event that was likely going to cost tens of thousands of dollars all in the name of getting laid. It was maybe the most duplicitous thing I had ever done. It made sense that I was a little nauseous.
“Maybe we shouldn’t ask him,” I suggested, letting my nerves get the best of me.
Bev laughed. “We’re not asking him, silly.”
Not totally getting her point, I looked out the window to confirm that we were on the road to the Morgan ranch, which we were.
Noticing my confusion, Bev said, “When you want something from a man and you’re not sure what he’s going to say, you definitely convince his mama it's a good idea first. Since Wyatt’s mama passed, our target is Duke Morgan.”
“What?” This seemed even more duplicitous. Duke Morgan was a teddy bear of a man. Tricking him was not on my agenda. Also, adding Duke to the list of lies I was telling to get Wyatt in the sack felt super icky.
“If we can sweet-talk Daddy Duke, then my plan to get you your big O will be all but executed.”
“This is terrible. Turn around,” I demanded.
She laughed again. “No way. At this point you are committed, darling. You have a rodeo to run and you need a master of ceremonies. Period.”
This was true. Maybe Duke would want the job himself. Wouldn’t that just be a bee in Bev’s bonnet. We pulled off the paved road onto the dirt drive down to the Morgans’ house. The house was straight out of a movie. A big white farmhouse with black shutters and a wraparound porch that was partially screened in and partially not. Nothing noisy about the trim. It was just a house that screamed a giant family lived here. It looked welcoming and warm, like anyone who lived in it knew what being loved felt like.
“Always liked this house,” Bev said.
I nodded.
As Bev turned off the engine, Duke Morgan pushed open the screen door, smiling. Two children ran out under his arm, barreling into the grass, laughing.
“Showtime,” Bev said under her breath as she pushed open the door.
Duke was down the stairs now, heading in our direction. Swallowing my fear down, I shifted the basket on my lap, resting it on the seat so I could climb out of the giant truck. Bev was already talking.
“Well, Duke Morgan as I live and breathe,” she singsonged as she walked in his direction.
Ungracefully, I slid out of the truck and then turned back to grab the basket. It was like trying to carry a hot air balloon.
“Howdy to you, Ms. Williams.” Duke smiled. “All grown up I see.”
“Yes, sir. Bound to happen, I guess.”
Behind Bev, I lumbered up, gripping my basket like my life depended on it.
“And hello to you too, Dr. Winchester,” Duke said politely, completely unaware that I was a snake, albeit a completely unthreatening snake, a garden snake really, one that was raising money for kids in need. Okay, maybe I was being ridiculous.
“Mr. Morgan,” I said quietly, tipping my head in his direction. “Please, call me Caroline.”
“Quite the offering you got there, Caroline,” he joked.
I smiled. He was the kind of man that put everyone at ease. Looking into the basket, I said, “Bev and I baked, thought we might interest you in some sundries.”
“Never been a man to turn down a fresh baked … sundry.” He smiled again. “But I don’t think you two drove all the way out to the ranch just to share your baked goods.”
“Oh, Mr. Morgan,” Bev said. She flirted, batting her eyelashes like a Southern coquette. She wasn’t a snake. She was a vampire. I was going to read her the riot act when we left. “If you like these baked goods, we’d be happy to make you some more.”
Duke laughed. “Ms. Williams, my baked goods days are long gone. High cholesterol and whatnot.”
Much to my surprise, Bev looked a little flustered.
It was my turn to laugh. I knew for a fact that the Morgans didn’t have high cholesterol in their medical files. I let out a full-blown belly laugh and with the impetus of it, I banged my head into the basket handle. Smiling at my awkwardness, Duke winked. Then, stepping forward, he said, “Let me help you with that.” He took the basket from me, placing it at his feet and then, clearly aware that we came looking for something, he asked, “Okay, Caroline, tell me what brings the two of you out here to my ranch.”
Still nervous, but feeling a shade less sneaky, I replied, “I need some help.”
“Really?” Duke questioned. “From me or from one of the boys?” There was a twinkle in his eye like he knew more than he was letting on.
“Well, um ...” I stuttered. I was looking for help from one of his boys, a very particular kind of help, orgasm help but that was not what I was supposed to talk about. What was I supposed to talk about? Panicked, I considered it. Looking right into Duke Morgan’s eyes, I almost said I've never had an orgasm.
Thankfully, Bev jumped in with, “Wyatt came by Doc Eggleston’s office a couple of weeks ago and Caroline remembered he had rodeo experience.”
“I heard he had a checkup recently.” Duke smirked.
Rushing past the possibility that Duke knew about the interlude in the exam room a few weeks ago, I blurted, “I started a charity. I’m hosting a special needs rodeo, and I need someone to help me with events and horses, and you know cow stuff.”
Duke laughed again. “You sound right qualified for the job, Caroline.”
Definitely red, I laughed with him. “I’m not. But after Wyatt came into the office, I got to thinking about how many kids have rodeo injuries like his or other reasons that they struggle to participate in the rodeo and it’s such a big part of life around here, you know?”
He nodded and gave me the gentle smile that made everyone in Conway his friend.
“Anyway, I quickly lost my mind and started planning this event, but I obviously need someone to help me, a partner who knows rodeo—and I … um … thought of Wyatt.”
Not missing a beat, Duke glowed. “What a wonderful idea. Inspired.” Driving his hands into his pockets, he continued. “I have to tell you, I wholeheartedly agree. Wyatt would be a perfect choice.” Then as if it was an afterthought, he said, “A few weeks ago, I might have suggested Cody, but now he’s got his hands full with Flynn.” He looked toward the little blond boy playing with his cousin.
“That boy’s Cody’s?” Bev asked, totally pretending this was news. The whole town was talking about Cody’s surprise son and the woman who finally jumpstarted Cody’s broken heart.
“Sure is,” Duke said. “And we couldn’t be happier.”