Her Forever Cowboy

Maybe he was just dense, but she had a feeling that he wasn’t. What he was was annoying. “For one thing, it’s not my name.”

“Not your legal name,” he emphasized. “Like I told you, we’re not uptight and formal here.” Reaching the top of the stairs, he stepped aside on the landing to give her space. There was very little available. “Lady Doc suits you,” he told her.

He was standing much too close to her, she thought, stepping to one side. Otherwise, if she took a breath, her chest would come in contact with his, and that was completely unacceptable.

“Dr. Cordell suits me better. What?” she asked when she saw the expression on his face.

“I think Lady Doc is a better fit, at least while you’re here.”

“Fine, just show me the apartment so I can write you a check and get this over with.” She gestured toward the closed door. “Why don’t you people have a hotel here?” she asked. All this could have been avoided if she could have just rented a room at the start of this whole venture.

He shrugged carelessly. “Haven’t gotten around to building one.”

“I noticed that.”

He pretended not to notice that she was being sarcastic now. “You might have also noticed that Forever isn’t exactly a tourist attraction. Most people who pass through here pass through here,” he underscored. “Those that come for a visit usually stay with the people they’re visiting. Having a hotel here wouldn’t exactly make wise business sense.”

Turning the knob on the door that led into the apartment, he pushed it open.

“Doesn’t that have a lock?” she asked, stunned. She was accustomed to apartments that came equipped with triple locks on their doors.

“It has a lock,” he replied, gesturing at it.

“With a key?” she emphasized through clenched teeth. Why did she have to spell everything out? Was he slow-witted, or did he just enjoy getting her annoyed?

“Ah, well, that’s another story.”

“Does it have a happy ending?” she asked.

He laughed. “There’s a key around here somewhere. I just have to find it.”

And most likely, make a copy of it, she thought. He’d probably think nothing of coming into the apartment—with her in it—in the middle of the night. “Better yet, once I rent this, can I get a locksmith in here?”

“Do you have a locksmith?” he asked her innocently.

“Don’t you?” she asked incredulously.

Just exactly what did this town have by way of services?

“Nope.” He saw her rolling her eyes and waited until she stopped. “We have a handyman, though.”

Alisha searched for inner strength. “Does he change locks?”

“I’ll have to ask him.”

“Do that,” she said pointedly.

“Then you’re going to rent this?” he asked.

Did she have a choice? “Is there another apartment in this town?”

“No.”

Just as she suspected, she was back to having no other options. It was this apartment, or living with Davenport and his family. She knew what her choice had to be.

Chapter Four (#ulink_c72b41f7-3607-57ee-bc1c-395fc1f444fe)

“Well, then, I guess you have yourself a tenant,” she told Brett after a few seconds had gone by.

Saying that, Alisha took a second, longer look around the premises. The last time she’d been in living quarters of this size, she was sharing the area with another medical student.

Alisha pressed her lips together, trying to focus on the upside of the situation, such as it was. Thinking back to her medical-school existence, she supposed this meant that she had twice the room now that she had then.

However, if she compared it to the accommodations she’d had when she and Pierce had lived together after they’d gotten engaged, well, then that was a whole other story. Coming from money, he’d resided in a Park Avenue apartment that was bigger than the clinic and Murphy’s put together. The walk-in closets were bigger than this apartment.

You could have still had that—if you didn’t have principles—and a soul.

Ultimately, she had no regrets over her decision to break it off with Pierce. If he felt free to cheat on her while they were engaged, nothing would change once they were married—for that matter, they might have just gotten worse. She’d made the right move in that situation. She just wasn’t all that sure about the move that had brought her to this backwater town.

“Having second thoughts?”

Brett’s question wedged its way into her train of thought. Alisha blinked, rousing herself and pushing aside memories that she no longer wanted to have any part of.

Turning toward him, she said, “Excuse me?”

“Second thoughts,” Brett repeated. “You had a strange look on your face just now, and I thought that maybe you wanted to change your mind about renting the apartment.”

He certainly couldn’t blame her if she did. He imagined that, coming from where she did, she was accustomed to far better accommodations. There was a manner about her that didn’t strike him as belonging to a struggling former medical student.

“No, I’ll take it,” she told him. This was better than nothing, and she really did want to have some time to herself.

“You haven’t heard the rent yet,” Brett reminded her.

She shook her head. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll take it—although I doubt if you’re going to charge me very much,” she added, slanting a glance at him.

Walking into the space for the first time, she took a long, hard look around. Was it her imagination, or did the place seem smaller each time she did that?

“You weren’t kidding when you said it was small,” she commented.

“The last owner, my uncle Patrick, didn’t spend much time up here. Just used it for sleeping, mostly. There’s a combination stove, sink and refrigerator over there.” Brett pointed to a multipurposed appliance that stood against the opposite wall. It was a faded white, but he knew for a fact that it was still fully functional.

Alisha walked over to it, an expression of faint disbelief on her face. “Is that what this is?” She’d never heard of anything like that before. “And it really works?” she asked skeptically.

“It really works,” he assured her, turning on the faucet to prove his point. Shutting the faucet off, he then switched on one of the two gas burners adjacent to the sink. Instantly, a hypnotic blue flame leaped up as if on cue. Lastly, he opened the door below the sink/stove to show her the interior of the refrigerator. “What did you think it was?” Brett asked, shutting the door again.

“I don’t know,” she answered honestly. “Some creative toy meant for a child playing house would have been my best guess.” Looking around, Alisha realized that there was a very crucial piece of furniture missing. “There’s no bed.”

Brett’s smile contradicted her. “There’s a bed,” he said.