1
COCO
The Jeep doorslams shut with a hollow thud, echoing louder than I’d like in the quiet night. My head’s still spinning from the town council meeting. I was elated when they asked me to create signature cocktails for Frosty Pines’ first Holiday Hoedown. Creating recipes for events has been a long time dream of mine. The tips I’ll make bartending will come in handy, too.
There’s just one tiny problem.
The council wants an “authentic” venue. And by “authentic,” they mean rustic barn, twinkling lights, hay bales, the whole small-town Christmas fantasy. Which leaves exactly one property with enough barn space to hold the event—Beau Carson’s place. And I stuck my foot in my mouth and said I’d ask him. Convincing the reclusive rodeo star to give up his peace and quiet will be as easy as teaching a mule to tap dance.
What in the peppermint schnapps am I supposed to do when he says no?
I cross the gravel parking lot, my mind running through potential bribes. A free bar tab? Unlimited peanuts? A lifetime of cherry bombs on the house?
“Pathetic,” I mumble. “I could offer the man a roll in the hay, and he’d still say no. He doesn’t like people.”
“Holy—!” The squeak rips out of me before I can swallow it. I’m so caught up in my thoughts I nearly plow nose-first into a cowboy boot perched at eye-level. I jump away from the massive horse blocking my path.
It snorts and sidesteps, hooves striking the ground like warning shots. My stomach free-falls, every nerve in my body sparking with adrenaline. No matter how much I’ve tried to bury my fear, it rears its head at the mere sight of a horse.
Beau pats the animal’s neck, his voice low and easy. “Whoa there, Duke. She didn’t mean it.” Then those dark eyes cut down to me, full of mischief. “You just scared the poor guy half to death.”
My jackhammering pulse doesn’t slow a beat. “Me?You’re the one blocking the sidewalk like it’s the O.K. Corral.”
A slow grin spreads across Beau’s annoyingly handsome face. His dimpled smile gets me every time.
“Guess he figured this was the hitchin’ post.” He tips his hat, smug as sin.
“Guess you figured wrong.” I sidestep them, keeping just enough distance from Duke’s flank to keep my heart from bursting through my ribs.
Beau’s deep chuckle sinks into my skin. “You oughta warn a man before sneakin’ up on him like that.”
“Sneaking?” I let out a sharp laugh, mostly to cover the fact my knees are wobbling. “You’re the one parked on Main Street like it’s the Wild West.”
“Wild West had better whiskey.” He leans forward and his grin turns wicked. “But Frosty Pines has better scenery.”
Damn him. He’s infuriating and cocky, looking like he just road out of a cowboy calendar—but my stomach flips all the same. Because he’s also sexy as sin and twice as dangerous tomy libido. I can’t deny the crush I’ve had on him since he started hitching his horse outside the bar and parking his fine ass on a barstool.
But I can’t afford to get distracted. I don’t do cowboys. And sure as hell don’t mix business with pleasure. I can’t lose track of why I need to talk to him.
It’s now or never, Coco.
“I’ve got a proposition for you,” I say, backing away from him and Duke toward the bar. “There’s a drink on the house if you’ll hear me out.”
2
BEAU
“Proposition, huh?”
The word rolls off her tongue, and damn if her sass doesn’t hit me square in the chest. She tilts her chin, lips pursed like she’s daring me to say no.
I shouldn’t take the bait. Hell, I came to Frosty Pines to get away from crowds, fans, temptation. From women who wanted the idea of me—the rodeo champion, the cowboy in worn jeans and chaps—without giving a damn about the man underneath.
But Coco North isn’t like those women and she’s never—not even once—batted her eyelashes my way. Even so, she’s the reason I keep coming back to the bar. The reason I linger too long over one drink, hoping for five minutes of her time. The reason I’ve been thinking about asking her out since the day I rode into town.
I swing a leg over the saddle and dismount, boots thudding on the frozen ground. Duke snorts, restless, but settles with a pat to the neck. “Stay put, boy.”
Coco slips inside the bar the second I step away from Duke. Most folks can’t resist giving him a scratch between the ears, butnot her. She keeps her distance with an anxious smile stretched across her face.
