Summary:
When bull rider Sterling Kingsolver wins a national rodeo championship in a stunning upset, he becomes the public face of the rodeo league. But the big bosses had other plans, and Sterling knows he’s in trouble. Worst of all, though, he’s headed to New York City to do a publicity junket. Sterling is a quiet cowboy from New Mexico, and all the fancy trappings of his new title don’t sit so well with him.
Jonas Burke is an experienced public relations assistant. He’s been hired by the rodeo league to get a hick cowboy from the middle of nowhere cleaned up and presentable by New York standards, and he’s been told to cancel his week-long Christmas vacation to do it.
The two men square off a couple of times, but as they get to know each other, Jonas begins to understand what makes a real cowboy tick, and Sterling starts to realize there’s more to Jonas than a flashy smile. While taking in the sparkle and joy that is Christmas in New York City, their friendship slowly becomes more. But when trouble catches up with them, Sterling’s days in the city come to an end and Jonas nearly loses his job. Facing that infamous midnight hour, Sterling and Jonas have to decide what their New Year will bring.
Window Dressing is an opposites attract, enemies to lovers romance featuring a rodeo cowboy, a city boy in a suit, and the magic of New York City at the holidays.
Maverick “Mackey” Keyes keeps the rodeo cowboys safe on his watch and he knows how to make his bullfighting team walk the line. He might be starting to feel his years, but he’s a pro, and he’s not afraid of anything that might happen on the arena floor.
Sidney Scott knows how to go with the flow, so when his dream job passes him by, he grabs the chance to work the bull riding circuit as a TV producer. He’s going to do the job right, traveling with the show, even if he hears some rumbling from the riders.
Mackey and Sid butt heads more than once, but when it really counts, they manage to get on the same page. When Mackey is injured, Sid steps up to help, and things take a far more personal turn. They might have been able to ignore the growing attraction between them at work, but a long road trip over the Christmas holiday and time away from the other cowboys lets them find something together that neither of them expect, but both of them need.
Cowboy Protection is an opposites attract, rodeo romance featuring a bullfighter and a corporate suit, with a side of holiday magic.
Window Dressing #1
Prologue
Sterling Kingsolver was fixin’ to ruin his goddamn career for stupid pride, and he gave less than no shits.
He stood there, staring at Clint Masterson, the buzz of fury zipping between his ears like killer bees.
“Listen to me, boy. Cody Ball has been promised this year. You’re a baby. You’re a rookie. You throw this ride and we’ll make it worth your while.”
“I ain’t a cheat.” He might be a piece-of-shit caliche farmer, a desert baby balls to bones, but he wasn’t about to take a dive. He had Rookie of the Year in the bag, sure—but if he rode his last bull? Shit marthy, he would take the event win and the championship.
“We aren’t asking you to cheat, son. I’m telling you to make a smart career move, hmm?” Masterson had been one of the First Five, and he was the face of the league, the big boss. Shit, this man could ruin him. Shit.
“Fine. I think it’s bullshit, man. Total bullshit.” God. God help him. Was he considering this?
“This isn’t some little ranch rodeo, Kingsolver. This is the big time. Sometimes you have to lose a little. You got the Rookie of the Year money. Take it and run. Next year it will be yours.”
Right. Assuming he stayed healthy next year. Assuming he rode. Assuming he had another magic year. “Yessir.”
Fucker.
“Good boy. Go on. You need to strap in. Don’t make it obvious.”
Good boy?
Good fucking boy?
He stormed across the chutes, his boots rattling.
“Bit! Bit, come on! Tie on your damn glove! This is it.” Jack waved and bounced, his eyes as big as saucers. “What did Masterson want?”
“Nothing. Just to keep my ass on the bull.”
“Ah. Okay. Grab your bull rope. I’ll pull. Chance can hold your vest.”
“Right.” He went through the motions, acidic hatred burning in his belly. Motherfuckers, with their politics and shit. He could see Cody Ball and his long-assed ugly nose and sparse pussy-tickler mustache just staring him down with a bullshit smirk, knowing what they’d asked.
Just because Ball hadn’t fucking managed quite to keep himself centered, just because no one had thought Sterling was a goddamn threat until it was too late.
Now he was one ride away from taking the whole thing.
One ride.
His daddy was sitting there in the stands, the day sheet crumpled in his fingers. Daddy would know. He would know and judge, even if he never said a word about it.
“Focus, asshole!” Chance shook him. “Blue Belly isn’t going to thank you for woolgathering.” His old friend leaned close, peppermint on his breath. “Don’t do it. Ride this son of a bitch. Ride him into the motherfucking ground and make them all scream.”
“They said—”
“Don’t. Just hold on, cowboy. You ain’t a rodeo athlete; you’re a goddamn cowboy.”
Sterling nodded and got his legs set, slamming his glove shut over his rope. Blue Belly bucked in the chute, tossing his head, slamming Sterling’s leg against the gate. He didn’t nod, but the gate swung open, and he kept his mind in the middle.
Just hold on. You’re a goddamn cowboy.
That was right. He was. He was a goddamn cowboy, and he didn’t throw rides. This wasn’t a job; this was who he was.
By the time he finished telling himself that, the buzzer sounded, the arena going wild.
Well, okay then.
Time to hit the dirt and take his lumps.
Cowboy Protection #2
1
“Don’t flatter yourself, cowboy! I was staring at your truck.” Maverick Keyes leaned against his wheel well and grinned as Grainger and Hayden tumbled out of their shiny new Dodge, the twins all arms and legs and goofy grins. “Lord have mercy, y’all. You two have a good July break?”
“Yes, sir!” Grainger said, giving him a wide grin. “Me and Hayden are ready to work, though. Momma was fixin’ to toss our happy asses out the damn door.”
“She sent you some chow chow, says to say thank you for raising us, Mackey.”
“Shee-it. I’m just trying to get you boys killed.” He’d been worried about taking them on if he was honest, which he was, if only to himself. Twenty was a wild time, and two twenties somehow worked out to the smarts of a single eighteen. Still, him and Tommy had talked on it, and the twins were strong, fearless, and focused on the dirt, so he’d hired them. Now they had a solid team, with Fabiano there to work as an alternate. It had only taken about a year.
“Promises, promises.” Jack Boers wandered up, smacking one of the boys on the shoulder. “Lord have mercy, ain’t it fixin’ to come up a cloud?”
Lord love a duck, Jack was a hot bastard with his silver hair and his deep eye lines. They’d knocked boots more than once, but Jack was a horndog that needed something Mackey wasn’t, so they’d decided ten some odd years ago to be the hand job type of friends. Still, he was the best buddy a man could have, and one hell of a safety man to boot.
“It’s gonna pour, and my knees say it’s gonna be a gullywhomper.” He’d been enjoying the summer, but even in the south, September was whispering about autumn. “You seen Tommy?”
“No, sir. I seen y’all and Ollie when I unloaded the horses. That’s it.”
Mackey stuck his tongue out at Jack. “Grab your gear, boyos. Warm-up is in an hour. Don’t be late.”
The twins saluted him and ran off, spending more energy than he had in his whole self.
Mackey shook his head. “It’s hell getting old.”
“No shit on that, cowboy. We having steaks after the show? I’m starving.”
“Yessir.” First though, he needed to call Tommy and find out where the Aussie was. “You staying at the host hotel tonight?”
“Shit yes. I love casino hotels. They suit me to the ground. I’ll see you in the arena, Mack-Daddy.” Jack patted his butt and wandered off.
He grabbed his phone, punching the second number on his favorites, after Jack and before the twins’ momma, and waited for the son of a bitch to answer.
“Oi, I’m coming. You’re such a mother hen.”
“Uh-huh. You’re late.” He always told Tommy to be somewhere an hour before he was supposed to show.
“Now, Mother. You and I both know I’m not. I’ll be there. I was having a lick of fun.”
“Don’t.” He didn’t want to hear about whatever Tommy was doing or with who. That bastard just had to grin and twinkle those blue eyes and men and women alike opened their legs like they had a button. “Just come on.”
“You want a cherry limeade? I’ll fix you up, Mother.”
Oh lord have mercy, Tommy knew how to make him happy. “Make it a big one. Extra cherries.”
“For you, mate, always.”
Mackey hung up the phone without saying goodbye. Sorry son of a bitch.
“Mackey, everything good?”
God, but he hated that voice. Cody Roberts was the president of the league, voted in by the cowboys running shit, and his direct line to God, from what he understood. “Right as rain.”
“Don’t talk about rain, buddy. It’s going to pour.”
“Bulls don’t mind mud, and the arena’s covered. We’re good.” Only one he stressed was Jack, and his mare Princess was sure-footed as fuck.
“Still, crowds don’t like it. They want sunshine.”
Shit, they wanted wrecks, cowboy butts, and at least one great ride. The fans gave no shits about the other. “Yes, sir.”
“Your team all present?”
“Yes, sir. All checked in.” Mostly. In theory.
“Good man. Have a good show. You ready for your TV spot?”
“Yup.” Not even a bit. He’d just ramble on about how Sparkle Night always turned right and make faces at Danny behind the lens. “You putting Stock on live?”
He made sure not to smile a bit. Stockard Manning was the clown, was in contract negotiations, and was possibly the meanest motherfucker on earth. They got along like a house afire.
Stock and live TV? Not so much.
“Fuck you, Mackey.” Cody did chuckle though. “Get to work, bud.”
“Always working, sir.”
Always. And his body knew it. Still, he had his team, new sneakers, good pain pills, and a cherry limeade on the way.
It was fixin’ to be a good day.
JODI spent too many years in New York and San Francisco stage managing classical plays, edgy fringe work, and the occasional musical. She, therefore, is overdramatic, takes herself way too seriously, and has been known to randomly break out in song. Her men are imperfect but genuine, stubborn but likable, often kinky, and frequently their own worst enemies. They are characters you can’t help but fall in love with while they stumble along the path to their happily ever after.
For those looking to get on her good side, Jodi’s addictions include nonfat lattes, Malbec, and tequila any way you pour it. She’s also obsessed with Shakespeare and Broadway musicals. She can be found wearing sock monkey gloves while typing when it’s cold, and on the beach enjoying the sun and the ocean when it’s hot. When she’s not writing and/or vacuuming sand out of her laptop, Jodi mentors queer youth and will drop everything for live music. Jodi lives near New York City with her beautiful wife, and together they are mothers of dragons (cleverly disguised as children) and slaves to an enormous polydactyl cat.
For those looking to get on her good side, Jodi’s addictions include nonfat lattes, Malbec, and tequila any way you pour it. She’s also obsessed with Shakespeare and Broadway musicals. She can be found wearing sock monkey gloves while typing when it’s cold, and on the beach enjoying the sun and the ocean when it’s hot. When she’s not writing and/or vacuuming sand out of her laptop, Jodi mentors queer youth and will drop everything for live music. Jodi lives near New York City with her beautiful wife, and together they are mothers of dragons (cleverly disguised as children) and slaves to an enormous polydactyl cat.
Texan to the bone and an unrepentant Daddy's Girl, BA Tortuga spends her days with her basset hounds, getting tattooed, baking, and eating Mexican food. When she's not doing that, she's writing. She spends her days off watching rodeo, knitting, and surfing Pinterest in the name of research. BA's personal saviors include her wife, Julia Talbot and coffee. Lots of coffee. Really good coffee.
Having written everything from fist-fighting rednecks to hard-core cowboys to werewolves, BA does her damnedest to tell the stories of her heart, which was raised in Northeast Texas, but has heard the call of the high desert and lives in the Sandias. With books ranging from hard-hitting romance, to fiery menages, to the most traditional of love stories, BA refuses to be pigeon-holed by anyone but the voices in her head, and she's determined to give her cowboys their happily ever afters.
Jodi Payne
BA Tortuga
Window Dressing #1
Cowboy Protection #2
Series
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