Daisy Prescott - Wild for You

Copyright Daisy Prescott 2017, All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents are the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Cover Design by SM Lumetta

Cover photos: Studio Firma; Rawpixel

Editing by There for You Editing

Proofreading by Proofing Style

ebook ISBN: 9780998858203

Paperback ISBN: 9780998858258

For the wild ones

I'm sick of their city games

I crave a real wild man.

Lady Gaga

T he best way to get over a man, Mara says, lifting her margarita, is

Sage interrupts her. To go to the rodeo and get your ho down with a cowboy.

My best friend proudly grins at her new solution for heartbreak. Breakup solidarity blue streaks the tips of her blond hair, a new color from her typical pink.

Thats not what I was going to say, but I like it if ho down means youll ride a cowboy. Mara lifts her glass higher and her gold curls bounce with her enthusiasm. To big belt buckles!

Arent all cowboys bowlegged and reek of horses? I wrinkle my nose. Unwashed, missing teeth. Chewing tobacco. Sleeping outdoors on the ground. Eating cold canned beans. Out of the can. With a knife or a twig.

Three sets of eyes stare unblinking at me.

What? I pull on my braid. Ive seen a few Western movies.

Mae is the first to speak. Zoe, youre kidding, right?

Im from Chicago. We dont really do the whole Wild West, big belt buckle thing. Or cowboy boots. Or the hats.

Sage speaks and Im hoping shes going to back me up. Were not in Illinois anymore, best friend of mine. This is the American West.

Exactly my point. I agree with her on the geography lesson.

Cowboys are hot. How have you never been to the rodeo in Snowmass? Whats wrong with us that this isnt our weekly thing? Pink Taco Tuesdays and Rodeo Wednesdays. Margarita sloshes over the edge of Maes glass as she lifts it in a toast to our foursome. The four of us have become a tight squad over the past six months.

Wild Women Wednesdays has a better ring to it. Mara sets down her drink with a loud clunk on the wood table. She only does this when she has something important to say or she has to go to the ladies room. I have a confession. Ive never been to a rodeo either.

Youre from New England. Youre forgiven, Mae says.

Horses make me nervous. Mara stares at the table, twisting a blond curl nervously around her finger.

We need to change this. As soon as possible. Maes dark eyes blaze with mischief as she raises her glass again. To getting back on the horse. And by horse, I mean man.

Cheers, Mara says. Let me tell you from experience the man you think you should end up with isnt always the man you need. See, the problem is youre thinking with your brain. Checking off lists and putting things in boxes. Silly human. The heart, not the brain, is where love lives. Sure, we can convince ourselves were in love. But not for long. My ex, Geoffrey, was smart, nice, kind, and great on paper. Zero zings. Jesse and I dont line up on paper, yet we work.

Zings? I ask.

All of them. She stares into space with a soft, dreamy expression on her face. And those laser noises. Pew pew pew. In my pants.

Thanks for sharing. If the burning laser sensation lasts for more than a few hours, you might need a special cream, Mae says, frowning while the rest of us laugh. She holds the scowl for about ten seconds before cracking up.

Not sure Ive had zings. I finish my drink and think about ordering another one. Were sitting on the deck of Agave, under the heat lamps. Another margarita and I might curl up on this couch and go to sleep. Not sure how management feels about napping patrons.

If they dont want to encourage us, they shouldnt make the seats so comfortable. I lose the fight against yawning.

Wake up! Sage jabs her finger between my ribs.

Let me sleep. Maybe Ill wake up and this will all be a dream a horrible, depressing, sad sack of a dream. I squirm away from her and snuggle a pillow.

This is a good thing. Sage removes my cuddly cushion. Neils an iceberg. Innocent looking on the surface, but a whole other story down below. Icebergs are best admired from afar.

I dont think shes ever been a big fan of my ex-boyfriend. Too safe, too boring. Too predictable. Easy for her to say given shes with Lee, a South African rugby god with a heart as big and kind as his feet.

Without Neils share of the bills, I cant live on my own based on my massage income from the spa. Even with the crazy tips, Aspens real estate is out of reach. Im looking at rentals with multiple roommates down valley. One place had bunk beds. Like camp. I groan and try to suck the last drops of tequila from the ice cubes in my glass.

Do you want to be a massage therapist forever? Mara asks.

No, I answer without a seconds hesitation. Im good with my hands and when you move to paradise, you do whatever it takes to stay.

Unless youre Neil. My ex, who bailed on me and our five-year relationship at the end of the ski season. His its over speech made him sound like the boring, number-crunching, middle-aged asshole hes probably going to grow up to be.

Mae and Sage both snort. Mara, who moved here earlier this year and doesnt really get our humor, blinks her wide eyes at me.

I shake my head. Dont make that dirty. Im not that desperate. My massages dont have happy endings.

I think a lack of orgasms in your life might be part of your problem. Smirking, Mae rolls her long, dark hair into a loose twist down her back. Theres plenty of men around here who would volunteer. A whole squad of eager and overly sexed, testosterone filled rugby players.

Sure, I could hook up with one of the local rugby players, but diving into the shallow end of the dating pool has disaster written all over it. Id need a head injury to agree to have sex with one of those guys. Landons like a ski parka with old lift passes still attached. Yes, we all know where hes been. Hes dated half the women at this table. No, thanks.

Easleys had a crush on you for a while, Sage volunteers.

Tall and flirty, Easley is nice enough, but in a big brother kind of way. Im sure some women out there love hairy men.

The only fur I like is on animals. Mara laughs and waves over the waiter. Ive shaved enough cat balls, I never want to have to do it for a man.

Thats way more information about Jesses sack than I ever needed. Mae finishes the last of the pitcher. I could never be a veterinarian. Or a waxer.

I sigh. Ive seen way too many hairy backs during massages. Sometimes its a complete surprise based on how a guy looks with his clothes on.

Simultaneously, we all shudder.

I continue. Reality is Aspens a small town. Not a lot of prospects for settling down.

Maes mouth purses like shes sucked on a lime. Thats a horrible expression. Settle. Down. Nothing positive about those two words.

Sage gives me a sympathetic smile. Maybe a summer fling could be good. Theres enough influx of seasonal employees in the restaurants, tours, and outdoor sports outfitters to provide temporary options. I love Sages optimism. No reason you need to find Mr. Right.

Mae agrees. Mr. Right Now should be your goal. And we can start tomorrow night at the rodeo.

Yee haw! Maybe someday Ill be able to believe Neil did me a favor.