Roping the Cowboy Billionaire - Emmy Eugene Page 0,1

relationship. He’d thought it would be his last relationship ever, but Tam had him thinking again.

He could picture her in his mind without even trying. They’d been friends for a little over twenty years, and there was no one on this Earth that he knew better—not even one of his brothers.

He could feel the way her lips pressed against his, as he’d kissed her last week in some insane moment where he’d told Spur to follow his heart, and then Blaine thought he could follow his. If only his heart hadn’t led him down such a twisted path.

“She likes you,” he told himself, which seemed surreal and natural at the same time. She had admitted to a crush on him, but Blaine still wasn’t sure what zone they were in. They’d argued a lot on their last date—which was over a week old now—and he hadn’t kissed her when they’d gotten back to the homestead.

She’d thanked him for dinner, and he’d said he’d call her. She’d rumbled away in her beat-up pickup truck, and he’d somehow made it to his suite in the house without encountering another Chappell.

That alone was a miracle, as he’d expected Trey to be lying in wait, a dozen questions on the tip of his tongue.

Trey hadn’t said anything to Blaine about going out with Tam. Not one thing. Red flags existed all over that, but this past week had been exceptionally busy at the ranch. Even Duke and Conrad hadn’t seen their girlfriends, and Spur had only spent one evening with Olli.

He’d gotten engaged on Thursday night, so he’d had a really busy week.

Blaine had had to hear all about the engagement from his mother when he’d gone for breakfast on Saturday morning. That was probably why Tam had lodged herself in Blaine’s mind and refused to be moved out.

“Let’s head back,” he said to the horse, and Featherweight seemed to understand English. He barely had to point her in the right direction; he just told her where he wanted to go, and she got him there.

He spent a long time brushing her down and cleaning her tack. Once she was back in her stall with a few extra treats in the form of apples and carrots and oats, Blaine started for the homestead. The ranch was massive, spanning hundreds of acres, and they had row houses, walking circles, a full-size track, administration buildings, selling courts and stadiums, arenas, and parking lots for when the buyers came.

There was always someone around, doing something, but Sunday was their slowest day of the week.

Blaine took a long, deep breath, and held it before pushing it from his lungs. Conrad was the best cook out of all the brothers, but Blaine put Sunday evening meals together more than anyone else. Momma usually fed everyone for lunch after church, but she hadn’t today, because she and Daddy had gone to see her mother.

Gramma was getting way up there in years, and she lived in an assisted facility in Dreamsville now. Most of the Chappells lived on the ranch until the day they died, and one of Blaine’s favorite places was the cemetery.

They buried people on the east half and animals on the west, and some of his favorite childhood pets had been laid to rest on the patch of land in the far eastern corner of the ranch, where the family cemetery sat.

His phone rang as he went past the homestead, his goal the front shed. He had barbells there he liked to work with in the mornings and evenings, and he wanted to check his schedule for the week.

Tam’s name sat on his screen, and his feet froze while his heart flopped. He’d texted her quite a bit the past few days, but he hadn’t seen her, and he hadn’t spoken to her. He quickly swiped on the call when he realized it had rung three or four times already and lifted the phone to his ear.

Tam was swearing, her voice loud, though he could distinctly hear a hissing sound in the background.

“Tam?” he asked.

“Blaine,” she barked. “Some idiot ran a stop sign and hit me. Can you come get me?”

His pulse sprinted now, and he jogged toward the homestead. “Yep. Where are you?”

A man said something Blaine couldn’t catch, and Tam yelled, “Yes, I called you an idiot. Stop means stop!”

“Tam,” Blaine said. “Focus, Tam. Don’t engage with him.” He could be anyone, and Blaine’s worry for his best friend doubled. Inside, he swiped his keys from