Free The Bull Rider’s Keeper by Lynn Cahoon Page A

the trust fund her grandfather set up, she’d still have to borrow heavily. The thought of that much debt turned her stomach, and she pushed away the menu.
    “Not hungry?” Jesse stared at her like she had spoken.
    “I just know what I want.” She smiled as his eyes widened a bit at the statement. Time to break his heart. Or dampen his ego just a bit. “Cheeseburger and fries.”
    “Not what I thought you were going to say.” Jesse turned his attention back to the menu. “I figured you’d go for the rib-eye dinner.”
    “I could be persuaded, if I wasn’t paying. Or, if the gallery wasn’t paying,” she corrected herself. “We have a policy of limiting meals to a fifteen dollar max, except for potential clients and artists. And you are neither. Welcome to the world of corporate art.”
    “You just want me to buy you dinner.” Jesse shook his head. “Pitiful how low a girl will stoop to be a part of the Jesse show.”
    The waitress returned, still throwing mooning looks at Jesse and hate-filled glances at Taylor. Jesse sighed. “I have to buy, just so you can experience the joy that a steak from Maggie’s brings.”
    Taylor brightened, opening the menu. “In that case, I’ll have the rib-eye and lobster, steamed veggies over the fettuccini pasta, and a side salad with light Italian on the side.”
    “Ouch.” Jesse faked a heart attack. “You know how to hit a guy where it hurts.”
    Taylor arched an eyebrow. “The wallet?”
    Jesse nodded and ordered his own steak. “Bring us two more drafts while you’re at it.”
    The girl spun on her booted heel and left the table. Taylor watched her stop by the bar to leave the drink order with her mother before disappearing into the kitchen.
    “Do you think I should hire a food taster before I eat?” Taylor stared at the swinging kitchen door. She hadn’t felt a girl’s hatred that intense since high school. Tom, the school bad boy, had dropped his long-term, stoner girlfriend and started calling Taylor instead. Coincidentally, that particular bad boy was a gifted artist who hadn’t had a clue. He had later admitted that he’d needed Taylor to introduce him to her grandfather.
    Tom still used the gallery to sell his landscapes. He was developing quite a following and had even been interviewed by several local magazines. He hadn’t broken in yet, but Taylor knew it was only a matter of time. The guy was good. Very good.
    She looked at Jesse, and for a second, she could see what the waitress saw in him. The guy was nice, sensitive, and not bad looking. If he didn’t have an ego the size of undeveloped Canada, he might even be date-worthy. She shook her head. Jesse Sullivan was the enemy. And this was the best shot she’d have to get intel on the guy. She grinned, thinking of herself as a secret spy, and wondered if the beer was clouding her judgment a tiny bit. She decided she didn’t really care and took another drink.
    While they ate their dinner, Jesse kept her entertained with stories from the road. Riders who’d shown up for their ride after a desperate search for their lucky rope. Or their lucky bandana. “Riders are a superstitious bunch. None of them own a black cat or would step on a crack on a bet. The life has its risks; pretending that the danger can be staved off with luck is a coping mechanism.”
    “You’re smart,” she said, regretting the compliment as soon as it left her mouth. She ducked her head and asked another question. “What are your superstitions?”
    “Can’t tell you.” He cut one last piece off his steak before he pushed the plate away.
    Taylor leaned forward. Now this was getting interesting. “Why not?”
    “If I tell you, they lose their magic.” Jesse actually blushed. “Look, I know it’s dumb, but it’s kind of like telling your birthday wish after you blow out your candles. It’s just not done.”
    “I would never have pegged you as a woo-woo guy.” She finished off her last bites and leaned back and