The Cowboy's Rebel Heart: An Enemies to Lovers Second Chance Romance (Wild Texas Hearts Book 4) Read online

  Everyone in Wild Heart knew Delsey Mackenzie.

  Besides me, everyone had liked her. I was the only dickhead who picked on her. Yet...nothing ever happened to me. Her father was a big sumbitch and could have showed up at any time to wipe the floor with me. And she was friends with Walker and Parker Rhodes. Two scary sumbitches, older than me with fierce protective struts in their gaits. Walker and I were tight now, both working for Renner Ranch, and I hadn’t seen Parker in close to nine years.

  Funny how I’d never worried about retribution for picking on Delsey. Kids didn’t think of consequences.

  “There she is.” Maddie limped to reach the television and swung her prosthetic around to plop down on the thin carpet of my plain living room. “She looks okay.”

  She sure does. Cruel irony. The skinny, pimply-face nerd was now part of People magazine’s most beautiful women club.

  “Do you think I’ll get a chance to meet her, Uncle Logan?” Maddie asked, looking over her shoulder.

  I quirked a smile, watching Delsey Mackenzie, curvy as fuck with striking platinum blonde hair stepping away from a busted plane looking like a million bucks. And giving a sneaky smile to the cameras.

  Oh, shit. She was so in town to kick my ass out of my...no her house.

  “Well, honey, you just might get to meet her real soon.”

  Chapter Two

  Delsey

  “Are you hurt at all?” Grace asked me once we were in her Camry.

  I kept a custom pink and black GMC Acadia at Nickel Song and told my mother to drive it around town. I hit the Houston streets in a Lincoln Navigator with the same colors.

  The key to branding was consistency. A constant reminder when you saw those colors screaming down a two-lane road, the highway, or across the sky: Delsey Cosmetics.

  You know, I can use a new lipstick... And off they’d go, hopefully, to their department store where my makeup crushed all the other counters.

  “No, I’m not hurt, Grace,” I said, pulling the seatbelt across my chest, ignoring the stinging pain in my right shoulder. Which made sense, I’d been in a plane crash. But I wasn’t hurt enough to sit in a hospital and take time away from other people who were really hurt.

  “I spoke to Lila, your parents’ housekeeper,” Grace said. “Your suite is all set up and I asked her to stock the refrigerator in your sitting room with everything you like.”

  “Thanks, Grace.” I snuck a glance at my property manager, young and pretty with violet eyes, quite unforgettable.

  “That was something, the news crews coming out to the airport and all,” Grace chatted away.

  “It sure was.” Any other time, I would have killed for that free publicity. Me, strutting off my plane. Me, a survivor and looking good, too. Looking flawless was part of my job responsibility. Except, it was all a lie. I touched my chin, feeling the bruised skin underneath, and then brushed against the deep scar on my cheek that never went away. Enflamed scales from years of acne that calmed down by senior year, but left me horribly scarred. Now, all those imperfections were hidden by my makeup, a patented blend of minerals and lanolins created by me to hide flaws. All to keep my secret.

  And not tested on bunnies!

  “When you called me and said you’d be here for a whole week, I took the liberty of printing out the latest requests I’d gotten from some of the business owners in town who would like to meet with you.” She handed me a red folder. “There’s a summary of what they’d like to do to their property. I figured with you in town, we could meet them together instead of trading emails back and forth.”

  Turning through the pain to grab the folder, I said, “Okay. Had the emails back and forth slowed down the process?”

  Grace gave a hard visible swallow like I’d frightened her. “No. No. Not at all. People here see me as your representative, and they’re comfortable with me. But you’re the owner, Delsey and per your leases, they can’t do anything major without your consent. I’m happy to be the go-between. I assume you don’t want Iona, the bakery owner calling you in Houston.”

  I didn’t know how to respond. The buildings and the several houses in town were investments with rent-paying tenants. I empowered Grace enough to be my eyes and ears here on the ground to answer any questions a tenant might have. And if anyone couldn’t pay their rent, as happened from time to time, they’d just tell Grace, who would tell me, and I’d do what I’d always done. Told them not to worry about it.

  Grace was the poster child for ‘works-independently.’

  I anxiously glanced in the back of the car, again stifling a roar from the pain in my shoulder. Spotting the empty booster seat, I breathed in relief thinking with all the excitement I’d not noticed her son in the backseat. “How’s Owen?”

  Grace lit up. “He’s great. In the third grade now.” My property manager had reluctantly confessed the boy’s father had no idea Owen existed and so she never got a cent from the man. On its face, that situation sounded off, not telling a man she’d had his baby. But I didn’t think it was my place to pry. I was hardly an expert on how to handle men.

  I exhaled, but perked up when the pearly white columns of Nickel Song came into view. Home. I was home. I’d not been back to the house in nearly two years. It’d been built in the early 1900s by Lachlan Mackenzie, my great great great whatever grandfather. The romantic two-story southern colonial got its name, however, from my great grandfather Joseph Mackenzie who defied his parents and didn’t marry the girl next door he’d been promised to, and instead took a lounge singer from New York to wife. He’d paid a nickel for a song and next, they were married!

  Talk about a scandal!

  The soaring columns, sweeping Juliet balconies off each room on the second floor, and French doors, always took my breath away. Unlike Sutherland Farms or Renner Ranch, Nickel Song wasn’t a working ranch and didn’t have much property in the back since it was built on the river. In the front, town folk had no choice but to gaze at Mama’s lush sprawling manicured lawn and her famous pink magnolia trees. I grew up loving that pink and made it my brand.

  Mama spared no expense for Nickel Song’s upkeep. Fresh paint once a year, especially shellac to keep the black shutters extra shiny. Inside, the carpets were cleaned regularly. The porcelain floors were polished until they glistened. She upgraded the appliances regularly, too. Appearances were everything to Mama. That’s where I’d gotten it from.

  Delsey Cosmetics wasn’t number one by accident.

  In the driveway, Lila’s husband Dale, who worked as a foreman for Sutherland Farms greeted me and began unloading my bags. They lived in a carriage house behind Nickel Song.

  Grace’s voice talking to Lila, drowned in a blur so I breathed in that distinctive Wild Heart scent of lavender and horses. The chill in the air from the late fall soothed my heated cheeks from all the excitement. I glanced up. Wild Heart was only one hundred miles from Houston, yet the sky looked so different here. Filled with stars you’d think you could reach out and touch.

  “Thank you, Dale.” My driver in Houston, a burly man I paid very well, had loaded my bags and that felt normal. Watching a good ole boy from Texas do so out of the kindness of his heart on a Sunday night, struck me another way.

  Dale’s eyes snapped up to face me like he hadn’t expected me to remember his name. He and Lila lived at Nickel Song for as long as I could remember. “It’s my pleasure, Delsey.” He tipped his hat to me.

  Watching Dale haul off my three large suitcases, I smiled at Lila who gave me a warm hug that damn near wrecked me.

  “Do you need anything else, Delsey?” she asked.

  I needed a hot bath to soothe my shoulder and a strong drink. Mama may snap her fingers and have the water drawn and whiskey poured for her, but that wasn’t my style. “No, Lila. Thank you.”

  Inside the house, the smell of home, lemon polish, vanilla candles, and sandalwood from the fireplace surrounded me. And the reason I was home. That scandal made my chest ache whenever I thought abo
ut it. Deflated, I slogged up the grand staircase. At the top, I turned down the hallway that led to my suite of rooms including an office and an antechamber with a sofa, television, and a refrigerator outside my bedroom.

  In my office, I pulled out that damn red folder sitting like a beacon in my purse. Holy crap. That thing was thick. A dossier for each tenant included impressive sketch drawings of the property showing the requested changes.

  My head hurt. I was a scientist, not a business person. What other people in Wild Heart dripped in southern small-town charm, I made up in nerdy brains.

  “Oh, you’re looking at requests now?” Grace said, tiptoeing into the office. Only then did I notice the hem of a business skirt under her car coat and high heels. She’d dressed up on a Sunday night to pick my ass up at the airport. How much was I paying Grace these days, anyway?

  “Just a glance.” I felt guilty wearing a designer wrap dress that possibly cost more than her monthly salary.

  “So, can I confirm to Iona, Willow, and Damien that we’ll see them this week?”

  Squinting at the clock that read nine p.m., I exhaled. This wasn’t exactly a vacation for me. Meeting with some tenants seemed like the responsible thing to do. “Sure.”

  I glanced at a folded excel spreadsheet wedged in the right-side pocket of the folder. Grace had itemized all of my tenants in a column on the left and across the top listed each month, and below, recorded the amount of rent paid. Numbers in red appeared here and there, scattered throughout, folks who’d been late. I got that times had been hard for some and whenever Grace had emailed me in Houston, my response had always been the same.

  That’s fine. Keep me posted.

  I didn’t recall who she’d messaged me about last, but a string of red-inked numbers in a row, month after month meant Grace had stopped bothering me about it. I’d done all I could to empower the woman. I had the luxury of not living paycheck to paycheck. If there’d been an issue with someone...

  It happened in slow motion as my pink fingernail followed a row with six red numbers to the name of the resident.

  Logan Grady.

  Logan hadn’t paid his rent in...six months.

  I flipped the excel sheet over looking for a handwritten note. That stack on the left didn’t have anything about Logan either. In the corner of each row, I stared, searching for the little comment icon which meant she’d embedded a note in the shared file. Something to tip me off. Nothing.

  “Grace!” I yelled out to her and snagged the sheet. Shuffling down the hallway to reach the staircase, I called out again. “Gra... Oh hi, Lila. Where’s Grace?”

  “She left, Delsey.”

  “Left?”

  Lila smirked. “She said she told you goodbye, but you were staring off into space.” Her eyes moved to the sheet in my hand.

  Jesus frickin’ Lord, had I been so consumed that I missed Grace saying goodbye? Now I felt awful. And more so that Lila still stood there and probably wanted to be with her husband.

  Shaking my head, I said, “Lila, it’s late. Thank you for getting my room prepared.”

  “No problem. It gets a little boring here when your parents are away.” She and Dale had grandbabies all over Wild Heart. Lila often brought them to the house and made my mother jealous. Then I would send her and Daddy on a cruise to get a few months of peace. I think Mama was more heartbroken over my break-up with Truitt because that meant she’d have to wait longer for grandchildren. Lila took a step back and turned for the stairs. “Are you sure you have all you need, Delsey?”

  Have what I need?

  I had ammunition against Logan the prick Grady. How awesome would it be to show up at his house, my house, in the shortest skirt and the highest heels with a For Rent sign slung over my shoulder and tell that bully to pack his bags? Quietly, of course.

  “Yes, I’m good. See you tomorrow.” I began to walk away, but stopped to say, “Oh hey, does Iona still make those jelly donuts? The blueberry ones?”

  Lila winked. “She sure does. I’ll get up early and get us some.”

  “Great.” I practically skipped back to my suite of rooms, thinking tomorrow would be a great day. Starting with a donut and ending with Logan Grady groveling at my feet.

  I didn’t know which one would be sweeter.

  Logan

  “YOU DO ALL YOUR HOMEWORK this weekend?” I asked Maddie, walking her to the end of our long driveway the next morning where her school bus picked her up. “Sorry, I should have asked you last night.”

  “You were preoccupied with Delsey Mackenzie being in town,” she said, tugging at her pant leg.

  “No, you were preoccupied. You were the one gushing.” I nudged her.

  I loved that Maddie was a tough kid. Even before the accident. Talk about a princess. The Grady princess’s feet barely touched the ground until she was two. All the love and spoiling should have made her a prima donna. No, she was a little toughie. Thank God for small favors. I’d not been prepared to raise a kid, let alone a little girl. I’d have gone berserk with a meek little thing. I joked with Maddie and picked on her. In a goofing kind of way. I’d learned my lesson on that back in high school.

  Because of her newfound disability, she needed to be tough. She needed to know how to handle herself. No matter all the No Bullying bullshit signs they hung up all over the schools, kids were cruel and adults could be worse.

  My throat got tight. Adults. Would a...dude hold her disability against her?

  I checked my watch, rocking on my heels, never wanting to be late for work. As the foreman at Renner Ranch, I was responsible for all the horses they now stabled for the B&B. Horses guests used for their enjoyment. My job was to train them to be gentle giants.

  “Here it comes,” Maddie said, securing her pink Target-bought knapsack.

  I looked out on the horizon toward the shadow Maddie had caught. “No, honey, just a car. A...” I froze.

  That flesh-colored GMC Acadia.

  Are. You. Fucking. Kidding. Me?

  My heart pounded in my chest. I didn’t need that shitshow first thing on a Monday morning and in front of Maddie. I had no idea what to tell her about us having to move. I refused to take any money from the Renners. And I’d torn up all those checks that came in from neighbors. I didn’t take handouts. Maddie and I had been making it just fine.

  I just...stopped paying my rent.

  Now, my reckoning day was upon me and the devil had come to collect her due. Delsey had flown into Wild Heart to throw me out. In person. Wow.

  Served me right for not letting Grace get me a formal extension in writing from Delsey, considering my circumstances. I’d heard the whispers in town from other tenants about her. All praising how decent she was. Letting late payments slide. Letting people catch up, no problems, no questions asked.

  I just knew she’d never show me that same mercy. And I deserved whatever lumps to pay back what I’d done to her. Except, now I had Maddie.

  Something twitched inside me. Delsey knew what I’d been going through. And she still came all this way to kick me out?

  She wasn’t over me picking on her? Or kissing her.

  “Who is that, Uncle Logan? A friend of yours?”

  What a question. Friend? No, Delsey Mackenzie was never my friend. The closest I’d come to being friends with her was eleventh grade when she tutored me in science at the end of the year so I’d pass my finals.

  I’d gotten a ninety-one. Considering I’d barely gotten a seventy all year before that, whatever the hell she’d done was nothing short of a miracle. Then the first day of senior year she had strutted through the hallways with the air of a completely different person.

  She looked the same. Just acted differently. Cool and confident. I still picked on her, but she’d gotten under my skin. I’d starting wanting her by then, badly. That’s when the taunts had grown more vicious. More cruel. One night, during the last football game of the season, I couldn’t take it anymore. I’d pulled her in and kissed the hell out
of her. I expected her to push me away, kick me, even spit on me. No. She kissed me back like her life depended on it.

  Now my life depended on her mercy.

  “Wait, I know that SUV. Oh my gosh, it’s her!” Maddie said and damn near sprinted away from me.

  But I caught her hood and yanked her back. “Mads, go in the house.”

  “What? My bus will be here. I want to see Delsey before I go to school.”

  “I’ll drive you to school.” I took her by the shoulders and steered her back toward the house. I scrubbed my hand across my face, and for once worried the full beard I’d grown over the last year would make me look shabby to Delsey. Once Mads and I were out of sight from the road, I crouched down. “Maddie, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you this, but Delsey owns my house.”

  Her eyes went wide. “Really?”

  “Yes. And well, I haven’t paid my rent. All of Granddaddy’s bills have been...a lot.” I left out that I’d been paying her medical bills and the part about the payouts my dad had been making to her father Kyle to keep the sumbitch away. That was the surprise I got when I went to sell their house and discovered there was a second mortgage.

  “Oh.” Even for an eleven-year-old, she knew what not paying your rent meant.

  And more grown-up crap was coming her way. She’d have to know all the rest of my ugliness, the jerk I was in high school. Poor Maddie had been through so much, and in the next few hours, she had to grow up a little more.

  Chapter Three

  Delsey

  I turned into Logan’s driveway and slammed on the brakes, kicking up gravel when I saw my old nemesis, the gorgeous bully from hell standing on his porch. With a little girl.

  What the heck?

  Had he gotten married and had a kid? Or...children? I’d kept my nose out of the gossip back in Wild Heart, so it was possible. Also, we were in our thirties. He should be married.

  I would have been married if it weren’t for a string of educational goals, starting my own company, and a cheating fiancé.