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All Maggie’s hopes of remaining in control flew out the window when Griffin answered the door.
He stood before her in a terry-cloth bathrobe that reached only to mid-thigh, his feet bare and his hair rumpled. Her mouth went dry. Fearing she’d make a fool of herself, she focused on his face. As if that view was less distracting.
Once Maggie trusted herself to speak she said, “I told you I’d be here at nine to pick you up for the shoot. You look like you just crawled out of bed. You’re not even dressed.”
“I thought I was hitting the snooze button, but I must’ve turned the alarm off.” He grinned, and nodded toward his robe. “You’re lucky I put this on. I sleep nude.”
She opened her mouth to say something—she had no idea what—but words failed her.
The dreams this man inspired could wear a girl out.
About the Author
An avid daydreamer since childhood, JULIE BENSON always loved creating stories. After graduating from the University of Texas at Dallas with a degree in sociology, she worked as a case manager before having her children: three boys. Many years later she started pursuing a writing career to challenge her mind and save her sanity. Now she writes full-time in Dallas, where she lives with her husband, their sons, two lovable black dogs, two guinea pigs, a turtle and a fish. When she finds a little quiet time, which isn’t often, she enjoys making jewelry and reading a good book.
Bet on a Cowboy
Julie Benson
MILLS & BOON
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To Jo Davis, Jane Graves and Nancy Haddock, three of the strongest women I know. Thanks for talking me off the ledge and slapping me upside the head when I needed it. I’m blessed to have you as friends.
To the Starbucks crew at Custer and Renner, in Richardson, especially Jennifer Jacobson, Jenny Shufutinskaya and Melissa Blume. Thanks for all your support and encouragement with this story.
Chapter One
“He’s married. I’m beginning to think this season is cursed.” Maggie Sullivan stared at the wedding picture of Rory McAlister, Devlin Designs’ cowboy model, on the Twin Creeks Ranch website. Tall, dark-haired and built like only a real cowboy could be, he’d have been perfect. Now here she was, two weeks from the start of taping for her reality show, Finding Mrs. Right, and they were short one key component—a bachelor.
Samantha, Maggie’s assistant director, turned from her computer monitor. “Who’s married?”
“Rory McAlister. The man we hoped would be this season’s bachelor.”
“Isn’t it Kate’s job to check into that?”
“She’s got the flu, and since we have to sign a new bachelor ASAP, I get to play casting director.” Maggie frowned. What luck. She’d also get to deliver the bad news about Rory to her boss. Right now having the flu sounded pretty good.
When their quarterback bachelor unretired in midseason, the powers that be had decided to capitalize on the current popularity of cowboys, and hoped to sign Devlin Designs’ gorgeous new model as the next bachelor. The man was featured in every popular fashion magazine, and his rugged good looks were a hot conversation topic among women around office watercoolers all over the country. Maggie had been sent to research the idea, which led her to the unfortunate news of his marriage.
Unfortunate for her, that is, not for Rory.
“What’re we going to do now that our prime candidate is off the market?”
“I’m working on plan B even as we speak.” However, all she’d come up with was an actor dressed up as a cowboy, but they needed authenticity. There was something about real cowboys. No one could define it exactly, but everyone knew when it was missing.
Think. She fingered the sterling-silver frame holding the last picture of her and her mother together. What would her mom think of her only daughter, an upstate New York farm girl, working on a reality show in L.A.?
I know it’s not what you would’ve wished for me, Mom, but the job will get me what I want out of life.
“How about a rodeo cowboy?” Samantha asked as she rolled her desk chair across Maggie’s pristinely organized office to join her at her computer.
“The National Finals are two months away. Anyone with a name is gearing up for that.” Maggie rubbed the back of her neck, trying to loosen the tension knot.
When she scrolled further down the ranch’s web page, a picture of the wedding party appeared. Beside Maggie, Samantha sighed and pointed at the screen. “Look at the best man. He’s too good for words.”
Slightly taller than Rory, the man had charisma that leaped off the screen. The tux fit him to perfection, emphasizing his broad shoulders. The sun highlighted the golden tones in his hair.
“He’s definitely what great dreams are made of.” Maggie scanned the copy beside the picture. Hope eternal burst through her. “He’s Rory’s brother, Griffin. Could that be more perfect? We can still capitalize on Rory’s popularity if his brother is our bachelor.” She could see the trailer now: Rory McAlister is off the marriage market, but don’t worry. He has a brother. Tune in every week to Finding Mrs. Right, and meet Griffin McAlister!
She frowned as another thought occurred to her. “How could a man this gorgeous be available?”
Samantha clicked her ruby-red fingernail against the monitor. “Look at the wedding photos. Each one shows him dancing or cuddling with a different woman. No way is that guy in a serious relationship.”
“I have to be sure.”
“Then call him and ask.”
Why not, since plan B stunk and plan C failed to materialize? Maggie clicked on the Contact Us page. “What do I have to lose?”
“Exactly. We can’t be any worse off than we are now.”
“Why don’t I find that comforting?” Maggie took a minute to compose her thoughts and study the Twin Creeks website, discovering the ranch offered horseback riding tours and other tourist activities. She’d lead with what a great opportunity being on the show was, emphasizing how the publicity would bring more visitors to the ranch and increase business. Then she’d tell Griffin how wonderful the bachelorettes were.
With the conversation and her pitch mapped out, she located the ranch’s phone number, picked up her iPhone and dialed. “Cross your fingers.”
Samantha crossed her fingers and held up her hands. Then she crossed her legs. “Extra insurance never hurts.”
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