Valentine's Day at the Corral
Table of Contents
Excerpt
Praise for Debra St. John’s Corral Series
Valentine’s Day at The Corral
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Thank you for purchasing this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
Normally she didn’t go for men in suits and ties. She only wanted two things out of life. A pair of nice fitting jeans and the man inside them. Some girls liked shoulders or chests or abs. For her, it was all about the butt.
It probably was stereotypical of her to think it, but men in business suits tended to be stuffy and uptight. She wanted someone more laid back, with an attitude as casual as the clothes he wore. An executive in charge of running a company wouldn’t know the first thing about relaxing. Taking life as it comes. Or having time to spend with a wife and a family.
Still, despite the fact Scott Callahan was more than likely a clone of all of the other guys in suits and ties she’d ever met, she’d spent an inordinate amount of the weekend thinking about him. And not just his fine derriere. Had she been too quick to turn down his offer of dinner?
Praise for Debra St. John’s Corral Series
“Original turns of phrase make [THIS FEELS LIKE HOME] a delightful read. A great concept—a bull rider paired with a safety-conscious woman—who could ask for more built-in conflict? I also enjoyed the authentic look at rodeos!”
~Ashantay Peters, author of Dickens of a Death
~*~
“The story and characters tugged at my heart while reading. I enjoyed [THIS CAN’T BE LOVE] very much…If you like a contemporary, passionate and emotional read, then laugh and cry along with this one. An author who can make the reader feel so many things is one that has staying power in the writing world.”
~Long and Short Reviews
~*~
“Ms. Debra St. John has created a magnificent storyline in [THIS TIME FOR ALWAYS], her first published work…
~The Romance Studio
Valentine’s Day
at The Corral
by
Debra St. John
Holidays at The Corral Series:
Valentine’s Day
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Valentine’s Day at The Corral
COPYRIGHT © 2016 by Deborah Rittle
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Contact Information: info@thewildrosepress.com
Cover Art by Diana Carlile
The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
PO Box 708
Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708
Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com
Publishing History
First Champagne Rose Edition, 2016
Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-0597-4
Holidays at The Corral Series: Valentine’s Day
Published in the United States of America
Dedication
To John:
Valentine’s Day was just a Hallmark Holiday
until I met you.
Chapter One
Payback was a bitch.
Gail Robbins assessed the surprisingly crowded barroom and wondered for the eighteen-thousandth time how she’d gotten herself talked into this. Hundreds of people milled around the spacious room. Tension hung thick in the space, almost like the smoky haze of days of old. Were there really so many desperate people in this small corner of Texas?
The whole thing made her see red. Literally. Cherry-colored cherub and heart cutouts plastered the walls. Pink and white twinkle lights twisted around the wooden columns framing the parquet dance floor. A single blood-red carnation in a bud vase centered on a paper doily on a red or pink plastic tablecloth scattered with confetti stood on each high table. Supposedly to set a romantic Valentine’s Day mood—instead the insipid decorations turned the cozy, rustic barroom of The Corral into Gail’s own personal hell.
Most of the soon-to-be participants wore shades of red as well. Her stomach knotted behind the navy and white striped sweater she wore over blue leggings. Her hand shook slightly when she sipped her drink. Chardonnay. Not merlot. Refusing to give into the nauseating color scheme even a little bit, she’d stuck with white wine.
A slightly balding man in his late thirties/early forties wearing a red and white plaid sweater vest—yep, no lie—caught Gail’s eye and smiled. She half-smiled in return, but quickly averted her gaze, not wanting to encourage him.
She was going to shoot Amber. Favorite cousin-almost-like-a-sister or not.
When Amber first suggested Gail attend the singles’ event, she laughed it off. When Amber handed her an already-paid-for entry ticket and reminded Gail about the auction where Gail had set her up on a date with Jake, a sneaking suspicion wormed into her mind.
Was this Amber’s idea of revenge?
Amber had no reason to complain. Jake was…well, had been, the hottest commodity at The Corral. Gorgeous. Charming. The most eligible bachelor…yada yada. Not any more. Now he was officially off the market, and he and Amber were as happy as clams. All due to Gail.
And this was how her dear cousin paid her back? A lonely hearts speed dating event? The whole thing was just so…humiliating. Why hadn’t she put her foot down and refused?
Because she was lonely.
The sudden burst of honest clarity from deep in her soul made her gasp. Now that it was out in the open, she couldn’t ignore it. All her friends were either married or engaged. She hadn’t had a decent date in over a year and was tired of being a third wheel when Amber invited her out with her and Jake.
She was happy for her cousin. Truly. But so long as she was being truthful with herself, she had to admit she was a little jealous. Not that she wanted Jake. But she did want what he and Amber had together.
Gail wanted someone to share her life. She was tired of being alone. For all the time she spent in this very bar, she hadn’t met anyone. At least not anyone right enough for the long-term. Someone who shared her values and wanted the same kind of future. A down home country boy who would take her home to met his mama and want to raise a passel of kids of his own. Was that too much to ask?
Maybe this whole mixer thing would bring new prospects to The Corral. At first she’d been a bit nervous about running into someone she knew, but none of the faces in the sea of attendees looked familiar. Where had all these people come from? Surely no one traveled from out of town for a singles’ event in a small town honky-tonk.
A nice butt in a tight pair of jeans distracted her from her uncharacteristic melancholy. She sat up straighter. Wide shoulders beneath a white T-shirt tapered to a narrow waist. No sweater vest. So far so good. Gail lingered on the fine curve of his derriere again. Did that make her shallow? No law against shared values and a nice ass going hand in hand.
As if sensing her staring, the man turned, then sauntered over. “Hey baby.” He winked.
Uh-oh.
When he leaned his elbows on the table, the overpowering scent of his cologne nearly made her gag. Her eyes watered as she fought back the urge to sneeze. Up close, he appeared more aged fifties greaser than cowboy. Ugh. He even had a pack of cigarettes rolled up in the s
leeve of his T-shirt.
Gail sighed.
“You got a light, sugar?”
“There’s no smoking in here.”
“Oh. Right. Well we could go outside and chat. Get to know each other.”
Yep. It was too much to ask. Did she really think she’d meet someone at an event like this? Where desperation clung to everyone like day old aftershave and cheap perfume.
Was she giving off the same vibe?
She pushed away from the table. “Thanks, but, uh, I see someone I know at the bar. If you’ll excuse me.”
Gail made her way through the crowd toward the stairs. No way in hell was she staying for the speed dating portion of the night.
“Gail?”
She groaned. Someone had recognized her. The stairs were only a few feet away. So close to freedom. Maybe she could pretend she hadn’t heard her name. She took another step.
“Gail Robbins?” The deep voice was closer now.
Crap. She turned.
Double crap. Scott Callahan, the new president of Thompson & Sons, the accounting firm where she worked, stood before her. She bit back another groan. Of all the people to run into.
He smiled. “I thought I recognized you.”
“Hello, Mr. Callahan.”
“Scott.”
Even though theirs was a small firm, being on a first name basis with the head of the company seemed too familiar, so she merely nodded.
“Fancy meeting you here.”
Not the word she’d use. More like awkward. Or embarrassing. Running into your boss at a speed dating event? Gads.
Wait…
“What are you doing here?” The question popped out before she could stop it.
He chuckled and tapped the nametag affixed to the lapel of his tailored suit jacket. Had he come right from work? “Same thing you are.”
Her mouth dropped open. “You’re here for the mixer?”
His green eyes twinkled. “Yep.”
“Really?” Triple crap. Her mouth had a mind of its own. If she weren’t careful, it would get her fired. Not to mention the fact she’d sneaked out of work early to go home and change before heading to The Corral.
He quirked an eyebrow, which drew her attention to his face again. Up close, he appeared more boyishly charming than stern executive. Younger too. Considering his position, she’d assumed he was in his mid-forties. Now she reassessed and put him closer to her own age of thirty.
“Does that surprise you?”
His age? She jerked back to the conversation at hand. “What?”
“You sound surprised I’m here for the speed dating event.”
“I am.” In for a penny, in for a pound. Not like the situation could get any worse. She might as well be honest.
He laughed. The deep, throaty chuckle was…sexy.
Gail blinked. Where had that come from? You shouldn’t think your boss’s laugh was sexy. Or the wayward lock of sinfully black hair falling over his forehead, loosened from the sweptback style as if he’d just run his fingers through it.
“I have to admit, I’m surprised I’m here too.”
“That makes two of us.” She bit her lip. “I mean, me. Not you. Me being here is surprising. It’s all my cousin’s fault.” Ugh. The more she tried to explain, the more tangled her words became. And now she was rhyming.
“Ah, we have something in common. It’s all my sister’s fault I’m here.” He grinned. “Tell you what, how about I buy you a drink, and we can swap stories about our meddling relatives?”
Once again Gail gaped. Had he just asked her to have a drink with him? Her first instinct was to say no. For one thing, she wanted to get the hell out of there. For another, he was her boss. Mingling socially didn’t seem…proper. Then again, was it worse to refuse to have a drink with your boss? That couldn’t be good for a career either.
He leaned closer. The spicy yet subtle scent of his aftershave tickled her nostrils. “Come on, help a guy out.”
Odd phrasing. “Help you out?”
“Yes. Please save me from the woman dressed in a pink jumpsuit checking out my ass.”
Gail laughed. How could a girl say no to that?
****
Scott placed Gail’s glass of chardonnay on the table, then sat on the high stool across from her.
“Thank you.”
“No, thank you.” Behind Gail, Pink Jumpsuit still stared, but now with a petulant pout on her crimson lips.
What luck to have run into Gail. Not only was the front desk receptionist from his company saving him from unwelcome attention, she was pretty as well. Short, brown hair curled up where it touched her shoulders. Brown eyes conveyed both intelligence and warmth. Although earlier he’d detected a hint of chagrin.
Perhaps he could scratch two things from his agenda. If he told Carol he’d had a drink with an attractive woman, maybe she’d get off his case. Not to mention the added bonus of getting to know Gail better. Since meeting her at Thompson, thoughts of her popped into his head at odd moments. While he worked. Or at home. Sometimes at night while trying to fall asleep. Plus she’d been more than kind as he stumbled his way through the last few weeks.
He took a sip of his vodka tonic. “So, tell me about this cousin.”
Gail shrugged. “Not much to tell. She bought me a ticket and strong-armed me into coming tonight. She claims she just wants me to find someone and be happy.” She glanced around. Did he imagine a small shudder? “But I think she’s paying me back for buying a guy for her.”
Scott set his glass down with a soft thud. “You bought her a guy—like a male prostitute?”
“Gad. No. There was this auction you see. For charity, and…” Gail waved her hand. “Never mind. It’s a long story.” She sipped her wine. “However, her story had a happily ever after ending. Did she honestly expect me to find something like that at this?” Her arm swept out. “Have you seen the guys here?” She glanced at him. The chagrin was back in her eyes. “No offense.”
“None taken.”
She traced the rim of her glass with the tip of her pointer finger. “Your turn. Tell me about your sister.”
The motion of her slim finger mesmerized him. What would her hands feel like on him? Would her touch be soft? Gentle? Or would her nails score his skin?
More likely her nails would scratch his eyes out if she could read his mind. He took another sip of the strong drink to take the edge off of the out-of-nowhere surge of desire.
“Well, it sounds like your cousin and my sister went to the same school of matchmaking. Although Carol took it one step further and went on for a Master’s Degree.” He raised his glass in a mock toast. “She’s the instigator of tonight’s event.”
“What?” The question held equal parts amusement and confusion.
“She’s the head of Looking for Love.”
Gail’s eyes popped wide. “You’re kidding?”
“I kid you not.” What a waste of the MBA she actually held.
“She makes a living doing this?” Now a slight touch of horror mixed with reluctant awe.
“Yep. Travels all over the country setting up events just like this one. Looking for Love is actually quite successful with its matchmaking endeavors.” It pained him to admit it. “Highest success rate of any matchmaking company out there.”
“Wow.”
Should he tell her everything? What the hell. “There’s more, but you can’t hold it against me.”
Gail frowned. “O-kay.”
“It’s actually my fault you’re here tonight.”
“What?” The amusement was back. Coupled with a hint of disbelief.
“I don’t know if you’re aware of it, but Thompson and Sons handles the accounting for The Corral.”
She nodded.
“I’ve gotten to know Logan Reed pretty well since I relocated, Carol asked me if to see if he was willing to host an event here. He agreed. The rest, as they say, is history.”
Gail leaned back in her chair. A s
mall smile played across her mouth. Her very kissable and tempting mouth. She shook her head. “You’re right. It is your fault I’m here tonight.”
“I know. And I truly am sorry. Let me make it up to you by taking you to dinner.”
The pucker between her brows reappeared. Her lips rolled in. “It’s kind of you to offer, but I don’t think it’s a good idea to go out with the boss.”
Scott didn’t know what surprised him more. The spur-of-the-moment invitation or her refusal. Or was it the sudden, all-consuming determination to change her mind?
Chapter Two
Monday morning Gail found a small box wrapped in pink paper adorned with red hearts on her chair. After hanging her coat on the tree behind her desk and stowing her purse in the bottom drawer, she pulled the package onto her lap.
Was someone playing a joke on her, or was someone really giving her a Valentine gift? She cast a furtive glance out over the office as a niggling suspicion about who’d put the box on her chair teased her. The cubicles were still empty. Being a morning person, after a quick run and a shower, she was always the first to arrive to unlock and start the coffee for the day. Today however, the brew would have to wait a few more minutes.
With a tug, the red satin bow came undone easily. The wrapping paper fell away to reveal a box of conversation hearts. She smiled even though she’d never really cared for the chalky candy.
A folded piece of cardstock was taped to the box. She stifled a laugh as she read the note:
Roses are red
Violets are blue
I had a nice time
Talking to you
Initials SC completed the message. The bold, masculine scrawl was a stark contrast to the silly rhyme.
Amusement lingered as she tucked the note beneath her keyboard, then pulled a small glass dish out of a drawer. She filled it with the candy, then set it on the high ledge in front of her desk. Familiar with the collective sweet tooth of the employees at Thompson & Sons, she bet it wouldn’t last until noon.
Did the new president have a sweet tooth as well? Scott Callahan had only recently taken over as head of the company for his ailing uncle, and she didn’t know much about him. Except she agreed with the woman in the pink jumpsuit. He had a nice ass. Normally she didn’t go for men in suits and ties. She only wanted two things out of life. A pair of nice fitting jeans and the man inside them. Some girls liked shoulders or chests or abs. For her, it was all about the butt.