Two To Wrangle (Hotel Rodeo #2)(27)

Monica considered Ty’s invitation for only a moment before declining. “I don’t know, Ty. I really have a lot to do. Bob gave me an entire briefcase full of paperwork to look at. And the sooner the better. Maybe I should just stay in for the night.”

“If that’s what you want,” Ty replied. “You sure you can entertain yourself without me?” he asked with a suggestive quirk of his brow.

“I suppose I’ll manage,” Monica replied. “I’m going to go through Tom’s assets and investments and determine which ones to keep and what to liquidate. Although the thought of all this positively gives me a headache, it has to be done.”

“I suppose the hotel is on the top of that liquidation list?”

“Until yesterday it was solidly in the ‘dispose of” column,” she confessed. “But now, thanks to your masterful persuasion, it’s back up for discussion.”

“Masterful, eh?”

His smirk reminded her of all the other things he’d done today with his talented mouth.

“Don’t let it go to your head, cowboy.”

“I’ll try and slip away early,” he said. “If you decide to wait up, I’ll make it worth your while with another round of masterful persuasion.”

The look he gave her with that promise guaranteed she’d wait up if he took all night.



After Ty left, Monica spent the next hour staring blankly at financial reports, feeling irrationally resentful. She knew the bull-riding finals were a huge event for the hotel. Of course Ty had to be there, but why should she be stuck in the room alone? She might actually have gone with him if the invitation hadn’t sounded so much like an afterthought. That was the crux of the issue.

Only weeks ago, she would have scoffed at the idea, but now part of her, a bigger part than she ever could have imagined, wanted to experience a bit of Ty’s world. Until now, she’d done almost nothing to try to fit in. Maybe it was time. Hadn’t he brought her back here to discuss a partnership? If she and Ty were going to work together, it seemed only logical for her to dirty her boots . . . if she had boots, that is. She’d left the borrowed Ropers and Wranglers in Oklahoma, not that she’d be caught dead in them out here in Las Vegas.

Ty had said the event didn’t begin until six. Maybe it wasn’t too late. She checked her watch. It was barely three, which still gave her a couple of hours. She phoned Frankie. “Hey, Frankie. It’s Monica. Can you pick me up? I need to do some shopping.”

“Sure thing, Ms. Brandt. You want to hit Prada?”

“Not this time. I need to buy some Western clothes?”

“Western? You mean like rodeo?” Frankie asked.

“Something like that. I’m going to the bull-riding championships. I’m afraid I’d look a little out of place in my Roberto Cavalli skinny jeans and stilettos.”

“You might be surprised,” he chuckled.

“What do you mean?”

“There’s a lot of high-class city girls who chase after those guys. I don’t understand the appeal, but lots of them have picked up cowboys in these limos. We drivers see it all.”

“TMI, Frankie.” Although she and Ty had christened it not once but twice, Monica didn’t want to think about what else had gone on in the back of her hired limo.

“So you’re needing what? A hat? Some boots?” Frankie asked.

“The whole ensemble, I think.”

“I know just the place that can fix you up. The rodeo queens all go to The Pinto Ranch when they’re in town for the big pageant. It’s right between Macy’s and Neiman Marcus in the Fashion Show Mall.”

An hour later, Monica stepped out of the dressing room in ass-boosting, rhinestone-studded jeans, complete with a blingy belt. She then added a colorful, snug-fitting Western blouse and a pair of hand-crafted Lucchese boots. Letting her hair down from her customary chignon, she finger-combed the loose waves and then donned a Resistol straw hat. Tilting the hat this way and that, she grinned into the mirror, hardly recognizing herself. Whoever would have known cowgirl chic would suit her so well? She couldn’t help wondering what Ty would think.



Once he’d settled Monica in the owner’s suite, Ty checked his messages and then made the rounds at the hotel, before finally heading down to the Last Chance Saloon. He was glad to see the place was busier than usual, but that was to be expected, given the bull-riding finals. Although Tom’s death had put a serious damper on everyone’s spirits, the show had to go on. It’s what Tom would have expected. What he would have wanted.

Spotting a vacant stool at the bar, Ty claimed it.

“Ty! You’re back already?” Gabby greeted him as she filled an order from the tap. “I didn’t expect you for at least a week.”

“Neither did I,” he replied. “But circumstances have changed.”

Gabby filled another frosty mug with foaming beer and slid it across the bar to Ty. “Changed how?”

“Tom left me controlling interest in the hotel,” he answered.

Gabby’s jaw dropped. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope. Surprised the hell out of me too.”

“Gotta fill some orders,” she said, “but I want to hear all about this.”

Ty sipped his drink and scanned the bar, tipping his hat to several familiar faces. He searched the crowd for Zac McDaniel, but didn’t see any sign of the broody bull rider. He wondered how Zac had fared in the past few days of competition. Had he made the short list? They’d been through a lot over the years. He’d hated that they’d drifted so far apart. So much time wasted. Just another regret compounding so many others. He was glad they were finally back on speaking terms again.