Not My 1st Rodeo

You'll never know if it's right unless you saddle up for another go-round.

Nothing like a Cowboy
by Donna Alward

Brett isn't anxious for another go-round at marriage. But when he's matched with Melly, he seriously considers getting back in the saddle.

Melly is thrilled to find a dyed-in-the-wool cowboy on NotMy1stRodeo.com—until she discovers he's got his eye on more than just her curves.

Something About a Cowboy
by Sarah M. Anderson

Mack is furious when his grown sons sign him up for NotMy1stRodeo.com, but Karen's profile intrigues him enough to drive three hours to Billings to meet her.

Burned by her cheating ex, Karen figures no one could be more trustworthy than a strong, silent, widowed cowboy. But after one steamy night, Mack realizes that it may be too much, too soon.

Anything for a Cowboy
by Jenna Bayley-Burke

Despite NotMy1stRodeo.com's promises, Ray doubts he'll find any woman willing to move to his remote ranch.

To his surprise, Jacy is different. She actually enjoys talking irrigation, getting her hands dirty, and getting down and dirty. But then her little white lie comes out…

Warning: Contains three lonely ranchers, an online dating site geared just for them, and three women who don't mind working up a sweat. May spur a sudden desire for a little roll in the hay.

Not My 1st Rodeo

Nothing Like a Cowboy

Donna Alward

Dedication

To Linda and Debbie, for telling an awesome story and giving me such a laugh in the first place.

Chapter One

Brett Harrison stared at the computer screen in horror.

“Jesus, Manda. Are you crazy? You put me on a dating site?”

He stared at the picture of himself filling the top quarter of the monitor. It was a cropped shot from Manda's wedding last year, when he'd been dressed in a suit with a string tie and all the groomsmen had worn matching black Stetsons. It wasn't a bad picture, he supposed. But it did look like he was…well, posing for it, which made things worse. It made him look like he actually cared. Like he was serious about looking for love…when he hadn't even known the site even existed. And if he had known about the profile, he would have taken it down. Immediately. Like he was going to do right now.

If she weren't five months pregnant, he'd strangle his twin sister.

Manda perched on the side of the desk. “Hell yes, I put you on a dating site. It's time you got back out there. You're never going to get laid if you hole up in your office or in the barn or wherever.”

He frowned. “My love life is none of your business.”

“Right. And when you go around snapping at everyone? I want my kid to actually like his Uncle Brett. Trust me, big brother. What you need is a hot night of—”

“Of nothing,” he interrupted, trying really hard not to be slightly amused. Trying to be mad. Ever since she'd gotten married, Manda had suddenly become an authority on romantic bliss. But to his mind, only desperate people used dating sites. The
facts
were just full of lies or inflated truths at best.

He wasn't that desperate. Was he? He wondered what Manda would say if he confessed that he hadn't been with a woman since his divorce. Or maybe Manda already suspected, and that was why she was pushing. Meddling.

“I can find a date if I want one.” He scanned the rest of the profile and had to admit, Manda had been pretty honest. Of course, she'd only played up the good parts. He had faults. Lots of them. Sherry had been quick to point them out too. It wasn't much wonder their marriage hadn't lasted, considering how little she'd thought of him.

Apparently, he wasn't romantic enough. Didn't tend to a woman's needs. Wasn't—and this was what stung the most—smart enough. Too rough around the edges. If he'd known she felt that way all along, they never would have made it down the aisle in the first place. And that wasn't an experience he was eager to repeat. He'd almost lost his share of the ranch in the settlement. He wondered what his ex would say now that the situation had changed substantially. The ranch was in better shape than ever, and they were seriously looking at expansion.

Manda scoffed, giving him a slap upside the head to emphasize her point.

“Listen, you know as well as I do that offerings are pretty slim around here.” He looked up at her. “Let's just take this thing down and forget all about it.”

But Manda was stubborn, and she raised an eyebrow at him. “So which is it? You don't want a date or there's no one you like? Maybe you need to head into Gibson for a bit, hit the bar, whatever. Stop being so damned choosy.”

“Manda.” He was done fooling around, and he let his tone communicate that. “I don't want to be on a dating site. Take down the profile or I'll do it myself.”

She grinned. “No. And you wouldn't know how anyway, because you're technologically challenged.” Her expression turned smug. “Besides, you already have a date.”

For five seconds, Brett was sure his head was going to blow off. “What do you mean, a date?”

Manda got off the corner of the desk and reached around him to slide the mouse over the mouse pad and click on an icon. “See? Melissa. Melly to her friends. You sent her a hat tip.”

“A hat tip?”

“Well, yeah. The guys have to make the first move here, you know? See? She's checked off divorced, spring and mutton busting.” She straightened, crossing her arms with satisfaction.

“What the hell does that all mean? Manda, pregnant or not, you're walking a fine line here.”

“It means—” she sighed with impatience, “—that she's divorced, she's under thirty and she wasn't married very long.”

He raised a dubious eyebrow and looked closer at the screen. For the love of Mike, the criteria the site used was downright hokey. His profile, on the other hand, listed him as divorced, summer because he was over thirty, and his marital experience as bull riding.

“Sounds great.” Sarcasm dripped from his tongue.

“Yes, it does. Because you invited her for coffee.”

He tamped down his absolute frustration at his sister's taking over the situation and replied through gritted teeth, “I didn't invite her anywhere.”

“Well, I did for you. See? A coffee date. Very public place, limited time if need be, daytime. Women try to be really safe on first dates. She'll probably have a wingman ready to text her with an emergency if she needs an escape route.”

It was sounding more like a military maneuver than a date. “What if I'm the one who needs an escape route?”

Manda grinned. “So you're going?”

“I didn't say that.” He pinned her with his sternest glare. “Manda, you had no right to do this. To pretend to be me. To set this up. It's my life. I wish you'd respect that.”

She stared right back. “I did it because I love you and I'm worried about you and I knew you wouldn't go do this for yourself.”

“You're damn right—”

“And you've been licking your wounds ever since Sherry left. You need to get back out there, Brett. This girl doesn't have to be the one. But she might at least be a start to you realizing that not every woman out there views being a rancher as a handicap that needs to be overcome. This site, it's specifically for people like you.”

“People like me? What on earth does that mean?” There was actually a site for hermits? Desperate recluses? Eunuchs?

“Not my first rodeo. It's for cowboys and ranchers, sweetie. And ones who've been around the matrimonial block and lived to tell the tale.”

“And want to again, which I clearly don't. You forgot that part.”

“You just think that.” Manda frowned and put her hand on his shoulder. “Will you at least look at her profile? Buy her a cup of coffee? If you back out now, she's going to feel like crap.”

“Then you can be the one to explain. I'm sure you'll let her down easy.”

Manda's lips formed an ominous line. “Fine. Don't go. Whatever. Just stop moping around here and growling at everyone. We're sick of it.”

She left the office, slammed the door, and silence fell in her wake.

Brett sighed, stared at the now-closed door and counted to ten. Why was it Manda always knew exactly what to say to get under his skin? Little sisters were the bane of his existence—and he had three of them. Manda, he took great pride in reminding her, was a whole seven minutes younger than him.

Hell, they were probably all in on this. Manda was the oldest and most often the spokesperson. Particularly now that she was pregnant with his first niece or nephew. Everyone knew he was a soft touch.

He turned in the chair and let his gaze fall on the monitor again. The screen showed the messaged conversation between himself and this woman. Melissa. Melly, he mentally corrected. Who the hell went by the name of Melly?

He clicked on her name, her profile popped up, and his mind went utterly blank for a few minutes.

He wasn't sure what he'd expected, but the woman on the screen was attractive. Really attractive. The picture was casual, looked like the background of house siding behind her, and she wore a simple blue plaid shirt, like she wasn't too worried about what she wore for the photo. Neither did she wear a lot of makeup, but she didn't need to. Her eyes were an intriguing almond shape and a soft, chocolaty brown, just a little darker than the smooth waterfall of hair that fell over her shoulder. A half smile touched her full lips. What on earth was a woman like that doing on a matchmaking site? Surely she didn't have any problem finding a date.

He went back to the message window and read what she'd written to Manda. Polite, modest, and claimed that she had never signed up for a dating site before. He wondered if that were true. Wondered if everything on her profile was true. It said she was twenty-nine, five-foot-nine and taught high school English. She was divorced and still hopeful there was a Mr. Right out there.

Well, wasn't that just sweet?

Brett pushed back his chair a bit and sighed again. Okay, so the photo had caught his attention. And the details weren't bad either. But did he trust them?

No sir.

Still, his details were accurate. Maybe hers were too.

Hold on. Was he really considering going through with this farce of a date? He thought about what Manda had said. It wasn't this Melly's fault that Manda had impersonated him and set up a date. She'd be at the Daily Grind coffee shop tomorrow evening, waiting for him unless he told her otherwise. Standing her up was not an option. His mama had raised him better than that. And the idea of messaging her and calling it off…Manda was right. Canceling would probably make her feel like crap. It had to take a lot of guts to put up a profile and actually send someone a message.

He shook his head. What the hell was wrong with him? Why did he suddenly feel flattered that she'd said yes to a question he hadn't even asked?

He looked at the messages once more. “A cup of coffee sounds perfect,” she'd answered. “I'm really looking forward to meeting you, Brett.”

Aw, shit.

He was going to have to go through with it. But just one date. One coffee date. They could meet and be friendly and go their separate ways, and that would be that. And his profile was coming off the site as soon as it was over.

Damn straight.

Chapter Two

Melly stood outside the Daily Grind, her right hand gripping the strap of her handbag as she reconsidered for about the millionth time.

Why was she putting herself through this again? Was Brett already inside? What if he didn't show, like the last guy hadn't? What if he did but looked nothing like his picture? For a split second, she considered turning around and walking straight back to her car and heading back to Helena. Why had she ever thought that online dating would be a good idea?

But she wouldn't stand him up, because that would be rude. Besides, it was time she got back into the dating game. Sometimes she felt like she'd forgotten how to flirt. Banter. Have fun. Be herself. Fun Melly. Unfortunately, Fun Melly hadn't come out to play since signing up on NotMy1stRodeo.com. Her dates so far had been disasters.

One man had looked promising from afar, until he'd come closer and her nose had alerted her that he'd come right from the barn. There had still been manure on his boots, for God's sake. She was all for cowboys and ranchers but expected a man might clean his boots and change his shirt before meeting a woman for lunch.

Then there'd been the man who was at least fifteen years older than his picture and had only half the hair she'd expected. He'd been polite, but there definitely wasn't any spark. At all. The date had been painful and blessedly short. She'd felt relieved but also a little offended that he'd seemed to be in such a hurry to get away. And then, of course, the no-show. Wow.

She'd decided to throw in the towel, and then Brett had sent her a hat tip. She'd closed her eyes and sent a wink back to him before she could change her mind. The offer for coffee had come shortly after that.
One more try
, she'd thought. And when it didn't work out, maybe she'd let her BFF, Leanne, set her up with the gym teacher at her school. She'd been nagging Melly for ages about that—

“Melissa?”

She spun around at the sound of her name being spoken, her bag swinging with her, sliding off her shoulder and dropping to the crook of her elbow with a heavy thud. Yep, being herself sometimes translated into being a little klutzy and awkward. She scrambled to push the straps back over her shoulder while at the same time attempting a smile. Holy crap. She struggled to keep her composure, but her first thought was that his picture hadn't lied.

“You must be Brett. I'm Melly.” It came out stronger than she expected, and she tried a smile with it, proud of herself. “Melissa. Melissa Walker.”

The repetition of her name had probably wrecked any calm factor she'd achieved, hadn't it? She held out her right hand to shake his and
whoomp
. The bag slid off her shoulder again, jerking her hand downward. Her own damned fault for cramming it with her phone, wallet, emergency makeup and a hardback novel in case she ended up waiting…or worse. At least he hadn't stood her up. That was a good sign, right? She swallowed and held the smile, trying not to look like she was staring. Hells bells, Brett Harrison looked yummy enough to eat.

Once more, she shoved the handbag straps to her shoulder. “Sorry,” she apologized, her cheeks hot, and he smiled in return. He had incredible blue eyes, she noticed. Nice and clear, with the tiniest of crow's feet in the corners and a fringe of light brown lashes. He hadn't worn his hat today, like he had in his profile picture, and she studied his hair, cut short around his ears, a little tousled on top, the same blondish brown as his lashes. The toffee-colored hair and blue of his eyes set off his tanned face, which she supposed came from working outdoors much of the time.

And his body… Well, it was impossible not to notice the tall, strong build. His stats had said he was thirty-two. Her heart gave a solid thump as she realized that Brett Harrison's profile had been one hundred percent accurate. He was exactly what she'd had in mind when she'd signed up on the dating site. A gentleman cowboy. And the way his sky-blue gaze settled on her now, a sexy one to boot. Maybe the other dud dates had been leading up to this. Who said persistence didn't pay?

Brett merely smiled at the awkward moment as she clung to her purse strap. “I have a mother and three sisters. I'm familiar with the phrase, ‘my life is in my purse'.”

“It really is,” she said, letting out a sigh of relief now that the initial introduction was over.

Brett gestured toward the door with a hand. “So, uh, how about we get that cup of coffee?”

She nodded, suddenly shy. Brett opened the door for her, and she scooted inside and then waited as he followed and they went to the counter to order their drinks.

“What'll you have?” she asked, determined to keep her chin high and confident, even though inside she was nervous as hell. The beginning had been less than auspicious, but there was time to turn it around. Be bright and sparkly. “My treat.”

“I'll get the coffee,” he said, reaching in his back pocket for his wallet. He was turned a little to the left and she got a passing glimpse of the square of his back pocket, a little more faded than the rest of his jeans. And resisted the sudden urge to fan herself.

Instead, she put her fingers on his arm, only briefly as she suddenly realized it probably seemed a little too familiar. “Brett, I'd like to buy you a coffee. Will you let me do that?”

James had been a stickler about paying for everything. He'd hated her trying to pay, like it was an insult, an assumption that he couldn't afford things, an affront to his masculinity. She really hadn't realized how much financial trouble he'd been in until he'd filed for bankruptcy. Anyone she dated had to get over that sort of male-pride thing. She figured this was a good first test.

He met her gaze for a long moment and then nodded. “I guess that'd be all right.” He raised an eyebrow. “This once.”

Meaning there'd be a next time?

“Good. Now what'll you have?”

He grinned. “A big mug of black. I'm a man of simple tastes.”

She smiled back, encouraged. “You got it.”

She ordered his coffee and then her own, which was slightly more complicated as there was a flavor shot and some steamed milk involved. But within a few minutes, they were headed to a table in the back corner of the shop that looked out over Gibson's Main Street. To her surprise and pleasure, Brett held her chair for her and waited for her to be seated before sitting across from her. Good looking—check. Manners—check. She wondered what else he had going for him?

“So,” she said, laughing nervously. “Here we are.”

“Here we are,” he echoed, one corner of his mouth tipping up a little. He raised an eyebrow. “Let me guess. You're mentally going over my profile and trying to figure out if I lied.”

Her cheeks heated again. “Clearly, you didn't.” Rustling up her courage, she added, “If anything, the reality's better than the profile.”

His laugh was low and warm and sent tingly feelings rushing through her body.

“I have to come clean,” he confessed. “I didn't set up that profile. My sister did. I didn't even know about it until two days ago.”

Disappointment flowed through her, and embarrassment. “Oh. I see. And she's the one who…?” Now she was feeling foolish. Naïve. “She sent the hat tip.”

“Yes. I was really mad at her when I found out.”

“I can imagine.” Suddenly the coffee in front of her wasn't so appealing. Was he gracefully looking for a way to exit? He hadn't even asked her here today. His sister had. “You know, I was a little worried you were going to be a no-show.”

He chuckled again. “I thought the same about you. And I thought about messaging you and canceling, but I realized it wasn't your fault my sister's an interfering pain in my butt. So I figured I'd show up, see if you did too, and have a cup of coffee. What could it hurt?”

This was sounding worse and worse. Like it was a pity date, for Pete's sake. She wondered how long she needed to sit here before she could get up and leave without being impolite. He hadn't wanted to be here. He was just showing good manners.

“Melly?”

She lifted her head and looked at him, surprised when he used the preferred shortened version of her name.

“You know, I'm not so mad at my sister anymore.” And he smiled.

He had a good smile. The kind that made a girl feel like he was letting her in on some sort of secret. The kind that felt like it was for her and her alone. It was intimate, a little shy, a little bit cheeky. He rested his elbows on the table and it stretched the cotton of his shirt across his broad shoulders.

“You're glad you came?” she asked.

“More every second.”

“Me too,” she replied and smiled back at him. Okay, so less than a stellar beginning on both their parts…but it was showing potential. It was the smiling at each other that made everything seem suddenly, deliciously intimate. Something sizzled in the air between them. Was it too soon to be feeling any sort of attraction? And yet it was there, pulsing in the air around them, a tension that was as delicious as it was unnerving. Maybe she wouldn't need Leanne's help with that date after all.

He lifted his coffee cup and took a drink. She watched him, her gaze focused on his full lips as they touched the porcelain cup. Muscles tightened in familiar places. The words
dry spell
flitted through her mind, though she found she didn't care a whole lot.

Still. It was a first date. No sense in getting carried away. Much. She raised her mug and hid behind it for a few seconds, telling herself to get a grip.

“So,” he said, sounding remarkably conversational. “You're an English teacher.”

“Yes,” she said, following his lead in the get-to-know-you portion of the date. “In Helena. I've been renting an apartment there since…” She swallowed tightly. The dating site was for second chances after all. “Since my divorce.”

“You seem too young to be divorced,” Brett said, his brows pulling together. His gaze swept over her. “And far too pretty.”

She absorbed the compliment and considered. How open should they be on a first date? What if there wasn't a second? She measured her answer. “I was young and a bit dazzled by him, I suppose. I met James when I was in college. He was charming and sophisticated and interesting. He liked nice restaurants and fast cars, and I guess I thought I did too. At least for a while.”

Huh. She hadn't really thought about it in that exact way, but the failure of their marriage hadn't been all James's fault. He'd lied and he'd hidden things from her, but she'd been pretending to be something she wasn't too.

“You don't like those things?”

“For a treat? Maybe. As a way of life? I'm not much into flash.” She decided to keep the bankruptcy part to herself. No need to reveal everything all at once. “I'm a lot simpler, really. I'm a farm girl at heart. I realized I prefer big skies over bright lights. Food I can pronounce and identify over the latest fusion fad.”

“You were raised on a farm?” Brett seemed both surprised and pleased by the knowledge.

She nodded and relaxed a little. She loved talking about home. “My parents have a small ranch about a half hour from here. I grew up growing my own vegetables and raising chickens too.” She grinned. “Actually, one of the things my ex-husband was most shocked at was that the eggs didn't come out all nice and clean and white like those from the grocery store.”

She was gratified when Brett chuckled. She'd far rather talk about her upbringing than James. Especially now. Her dad's heart condition made it harder and harder for him to work, and he was set on selling the ranch, no matter how much she protested. It made her heart hurt just thinking about not having the place to call home anymore.

“How about you?” she asked. “Your profile says you're a rancher.”

“Yes, ma'am. A beef ranch not far from here.” He nodded. “You had a bit of a drive if you came from Helena,” he acknowledged.

“Not that bad. I'm at the north edge of the city.” She shrugged. “I'll probably stop at Mom and Dad's on the way home. Helena's close enough for me to visit lots. It's a nice day for a drive. ”

So it was. Late spring was beautiful in Montana. Everything turned newly green and lush, with clear blue skies and rolling farmland and jagged mountains. Melly loved her job, but this time of year, she always found herself missing all the spring activity. Right now, her mom would be putting in the vegetable garden. There was something so satisfying about putting seeds into the earth and being rewarded by green plants that would then become food. The closest she got to that was a couple of planters on her balcony. With a sinking heart, she realized this was probably the last garden her mom would put in at the ranch. Their plan was to move to a smaller house, on a smaller lot, closer to town.

It was bad enough that Melly's life had fallen apart. Why did the things she relied on to always be there have to change too?

“Busy time of year for you too,” she said, taking another sip of coffee, determined to change the subject. She didn't need to kill the vibe with her depressing attitude.

“It's always busy,” he replied, but he smiled again. “Though, yeah, this time of year is particularly hectic, and fun. A few weeks from now will be insane. Vaccines, branding, all the other necessary things that happen to new calves. I'm sure you're familiar with that.”

She perked up. “Of course I am. Though I have to admit, branding isn't my favorite job.” She sighed. “And it's not something I've been a part of much since college. I kind of miss it.”

“You don't go home to help out?”

He couldn't know how hard that question was to answer. “Not as often as I'd like. Teaching is a pretty demanding job. Though I do visit more in the summer when I'm off.” She didn't add that James hadn't liked the ranch. He hadn't liked the dirt or the smells or anything about it. She'd rarely gone home when they were together. It was only in the last year or so, since the divorce, that she'd visited more frequently, put on her boots and gotten in the saddle again.