Becoming The Cowboy's Bride: Boxset 1-4 Read online

  Copyright

  © 2015 Olivia Wilson

  All Rights Reserved.

  This book or any part thereof, may not be reproduced, or used in any manner whatsoever without the written permission of the author. Except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is an entire work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person, either living or dead is pure coincidence.

  Warning!

  This book is intended for mature readers over the age of 18 and contains scenes of an adult nature. If you are under 18 years old or in any way uncomfortable with sexual scenarios, please do not read this book.

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Warning!

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  About The Author / Connect

  Chapter 1

  Hearing the door swing open behind me. I turn to see over six foot of beautiful man standing before me. His shirt hangs open, exposing his smooth chest to the final burn of the Texas sunset. His hands rest on either side of the doorframe as his dark brown boots stand firm on the ground beneath him. The brim of his hat lifts to reveal an intense stare, and I know he’s come for me.

  It’s hot, and he’s been working hard all day. A sheen of sweat glistens across his skin as his big, brown eyes meet mine. Weak at the knees, I drop the grooming brush and step back from the horse as he makes his move. With love in his heart and a fire raging in his belly, he heads straight for me. I fall into his arms as he reaches me and with a little jump, wrap my legs around his waist when he lifts me from the ground. I am -his, and he is mine.

  My cowboy pulls me closer to him, and with one hand on each of my buttocks, pushes his soft lips onto me. This cowboy of mine is by far the best kisser I’ve ever known. I feel light, as though we are about to float away and spiral up into the vastness of the sky. I push my hands into his hair and his hat to fall to the ground and rolls into the hay. He moves one hand around my back, and the other up to cradle my head before pinning me to the wall of the barn.

  One of his hands moves to caress my face as his lips tell me a tale of true love and lustful desire in equal measure. I push his shirt from his shoulders, and he lets it fall from his arms and onto the floor of the barn. Placing two fingers around the top button of my blouse, he begins to twist. As my button pops open, I think back to how we both got here.

  Six months ago seems so far away now.

  Chapter 2

  Six Months Earlier

  ‘Gemma,’ my flatmate Rebecca calls across the apartment. ‘Your mother’s here.’

  Bending down, I wrap the towel around my hair and twist it at the end before standing up and flicking my head back. Folding the towel over onto itself, I tuck it in at the back of my neck to secure it. Tugging at my dressing gown, I pull it down from the hook on the back of the bathroom door and wrap it around myself. Leaving the bathroom, I head out to see what my mother wants this time.

  ‘Hello darling,’ my mother calls out as I approach. She's sitting at the counter in the kitchenette enjoying a glass of wine with Rebecca. ‘I’m sorry sweetheart; did I pull you from the shower?’ She says.

  ‘No, mum it's fine. I’d already finished, I was just drying off, what brings you over?’

  ‘I was just passing by...’

  Just passing by, my mother’s always just “passing by.” It’s amazing how I‘ve picked an apartment bang in the middle of every journey she ever needs to take.

  ‘...and I thought I should drop this off to you. It looks important.’ She pulls a letter out of her bag and passes it to me. ‘It came this morning and the stamp looks official.’

  Taking the letter, I inspect the envelope. She's right, it does look official. It appears to be from the courthouse, but I can't imagine what it could be. I haven't had any trouble with the law, and I don’t have any outstanding debts. My one form of credit is a credit card, and I’m sure those payments are up to date. Placing the letter on to the counter, I reach for a glass as my mother and Rebecca both sit in silence staring at me.

  ‘Well?’ My mother’s the first one to speak.

  ‘Well, what?’ I say.

  Seeing a glass left out for me, I put the letter down on the counter and pick up the wine bottle.

  ‘Well, what’s it about then?’ She asks.

  ‘I don't know. I haven't opened it yet.’ The wine glugs into the glass as I pour.

  ‘Open it!’ Rebecca’s eyes open wide. ‘I’ll open it then,’ she says reaching for the letter.

  Rebecca can’t bear to wait for anything. We can watch little on TV together anymore due to her impatient nature. Game shows are out of the question, too many dramatic pauses. We gave up on glossy soaps last summer after the "cliffhanger incident." When one of my espadrilles almost ended up in the TV as the credits rolled on an unresolved storyline.

  'I'll open it myself thank you,’ I say as I snatch the envelope from the counter before she reaches it.

  They're both on tender hooks. My mother and my best friend watching I open my personal mail. Removing the contents, I scan the paperwork and I'm not quite sure I understand it all at first.

  ‘What is it?’ They both ask in unison.

  ‘Who do we know that's passed away?’ I ask my mother.

  ‘What?’ She replies.

  ‘It says here that they're contacting me as I stand to inherit something. They're advising I get in touch with them to find out more.'

  ‘I can’t think of anyone.’ My mother shakes her head.

  ‘It’s no doubt a mistake then. They sent it to your house, so they must have done a general search on the name. Then contacted everyone who came up to find the right person. I’ll give them a call tomorrow and sort it out. See ladies, nothing too exciting.’

  ‘You don't know that yet,’ says Rebecca. Who as well as being the most impatient person I know, also has the most colourful imagination. ‘Some old, rich guy you may have done a good deed for in the past might have left you a vast estate somewhere.’

  ‘Ooh that would be good,’ mum adds, her interest piqued again.

  Rebecca and my mother get on well. They both have the same sense of drama and are always looking for the most exciting answer to everything.

  ‘There could be a hot gardener who works there as well. Within an instant of meeting you, he'll fall head over heels in love with you and your voluptuous figure. Sweep you off your feet and making you forget all about the disaster that was Tim, for the res
t of your life.’

  ‘Rest assured I’ll keep you both informed of the outcome. Now if you will excuse me, I must go and paint my toenails.’ I take a sip of wine and place the glass back on the counter.

  ‘Of course, I’ll be off,’ mum climbs down from her stool and picks up her bag.

  ‘Are you leaving, Faith?’ Rebecca asks.

  ‘Afraid so dear, I have a few things still to do this evening,’ my mother replies.

  ‘I’ll see you out.’ Rebecca says going to stand.

  ‘It’s all right Becca. You stay with your wine. It’s my mum, I’ll see her out.’

  ‘Nonsense, both of you. I’ll see myself out. Enjoy your evening’s ladies and do keep me posted won't you darling.’ My mother kisses me on the cheek and makes her way to the door.

  Hearing the door close behind her, I cast an eye over the letter again.

  Chapter 3

  At work the next day, I telephone the courts, as I said I would, and they put me onto the executor of the will. I explain I'm not the Gemma Jones they're looking for, but they're not willing to discuss it over the phone. They insist upon meeting me instead. Which although I’m reluctant, I agree to and set up an appointment with them for the next day. Luckily, their office is within a reasonable distance to mine, so I should be able to fit it in without a problem.

  As I’m hanging up the phone, I spot a new face across the floor of the office. Not being aware there’s a new member of team, it’s quite surprising. He’s quite handsome with short, dark blonde hair and half a beard. By that, I mean he isn't clean-shaven but doesn’t have a full beard either. He’s wearing a sharp suit, much too snazzy for the wages here, and he has an air of authority about him. I watch as he approaches Laura’s office door and Julie moves out of his way. Then as he walks inside, he closes the door behind him so she can't follow. Touching an ear, she looks around to see if anyone saw the snub then rushes off towards the photocopier.

  ‘Chris.’ I say grabbing his attention as he passes my desk on the way to the kitchen.

  Chris is an insufferable gossip. If anyone knows what’s going on around here, it’s him.

  ‘Yes, Gemma,’ he replies letting his coffee cup dangle from his grip.

  ‘Who’s the new guy?’ I ask.

  ‘New guy?’ He frowns at me and looks around.

  ‘Yeah, I just saw a new guy go into Laura’s office.’

  ‘What did this new guy look like?’ He shakes his head.

  ‘Tall, trim, kind of blonde-ish. He’s wearing a smart, designer suit.’

  ‘Oh, that’ll be Stephen.’

  ‘Stephen?’

  ‘The new recovery project manager,’

  ‘Recovery project manager?’ I stare at him with a blank expression.

  ‘Yeah, you know to guide the company through recovery.’

  I shake my head; I still don’t have a clue.

  ‘Geez Gemma, where have you been?’

  I knew about the company deficit. As Julie had cancelled my last stationary order due to budget restrictions. Despite the fact, I’d ordered the basic range pencils and a notepad. We’ve also been supplying our own refreshments for the last month. Instead of using the low-cost option the company have started to provide. Now, according to Chis, they’ve brought in a special project manager to lead us into recovery.

  With nothing else to tell Chris continues on his way to the kitchen and I spot Julie arrive back at her desk. I make my way over to her, as I need to discuss my appointment tomorrow with her. It isn’t within Julie's jurisdiction to authorise leave. But as she's Laura’s P.A and Laura’s often too busy to approach, everything goes through Julie first.

  ‘Hi Julie,’ I say as I reach her desk.

  She doesn't reply. Instead, she just runs her hand through her cropped, burgundy tinted hair and looks harassed.

  ‘I just wanted to talk to you.’ I clear my throat.

  ‘It needs to be quick Gemma as I’m busy,’ she says without looking at me.

  ‘Of course, I just need a minute. I have an appointment tomorrow morning with an executor. You see I’ve received a letter about an inheritance. It seems they’ve mixed me up with another Gemma Jones so I need to go and clear that up.’ As she’s showing no interest in my explanation, I move straight on to the point. ‘Anyway, the meeting's first thing tomorrow and the office is nearby. So I’m thinking of going there before work. If you could confirm with Laura for me if that’s acceptable, then I'd appreciate it. I will of course stay late to make up any time that I need to. But I don't envisage that I’ll be too long.’

  ‘Tomorrow morning you say?’ Julie picks up a small pile of sticky notes and scrawls across the top.

  ‘Yes, that’s right.’

  ‘I’ll run it past Laura and let you know if there’s a problem,’ she says tearing a note from the top of the pile. ‘Continue with your plans unless you hear otherwise from me.’

  ‘Thank you Julie.’ I know she’s taking no notice, but I say it anyway.

  Turning to walk away, I see Laura's office door open and Stephen walk out. The door doesn't even get to close behind him before Julie leaps out of her seat and runs inside. Having some papers to pick up from floor two I don’t stop at my desk but instead continue to the door. Stephen's walking in the same direction and the closer we both get to the door, the closer we get to each other.

  ‘After you,’ he says pulling the door and holding it open for me.

  ‘Thank you.’ My mouth opens and a small voice I don’t recognise comes out.

  ‘Gemma isn’t it?’ He says letting the door slam shut behind him.

  ‘Yes,’ I say. My tone could be a lot more confident, I’m a rather unsuccessful flirter. ‘You know who I am?’

  ‘It’s my job to know who you are,’ he says and taps a roll of paper against the palm of his hand. ‘Have a good day Gemma,’ he calls back over his shoulder as he passes me and I continue to stand on the landing for a moment feeling awkward.

  Chapter 4

  The executor saw me on time and the meeting was over sooner than I’d anticipated. I arrive at the office just before ten o’clock and rush over to my desk. Lifting my little, pink stress piggy, I retrieve the key I leave hidden underneath it and unlock my drawer. Placing the brown envelope I left the executors with inside of it, I close it up, lock it and put the key back under the pig. Pulling off my coat, I can see Chris’ enthusiastic stare ahead of me.

  ‘Urgent department meeting at ten o’clock Gemma.’ He rests a coffee cup on the corner of my desk. His wide, blue eyes are clearer than ever.

  ‘Isn’t it almost 10 am now?’ I ask.

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘Where is the meeting?’

  ‘Meeting room 2.’

  ‘What’s it about?’

  ‘No idea. Reorgs maybe. Perhaps management want to address the rumours flying around.’

  ‘There are rumours flying around?’

  Chris sighs and shakes his head at me. ‘I’ll just put my cup back and you can walk with me, I’ll fill you in on the way.’

  On the way to meeting, Chris tells me there’s been word of downsizing, and he thinks the meeting could be to inform us of one of two things. Either Stephen's efforts to bring the company back into the black have been successful. Meaning we’re out of recovery and can have our brand name coffee back. Or things have taken a turn for the worse and redundancies could be on the cards.

  As we reach the meeting room, we see some people squeezed into a circle of chairs. Meeting room two is a small room with a table in the middle capable of seating maybe four of five people around it. The table's not there today, perhaps in an attempt to fit everyone inside. There's at least three times that amount of people here today and they're all standing, sitting, or lingering around the door.

  ‘Excuse me, Laura coming through!’ Julie's arm extends into the air holding a beige folder as she pushes her way through.

  Walking behind her, Laura’s short black bob looks sharper than ever.
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  ‘Do they have the hand-outs Julie?’ Laura asks putting on her glasses.

  ‘Passing them out now Laura.’ Julie flips open her folder, and then scurries around the room pushing print outs into everyone's hands.

  ‘I understand there are a few rumours flying around,' she says looking straight at Chris. 'So I've called this meeting to address them, and bring you all up to date with what’s happening. I’m sure you’re all aware of the deficits we've been facing, and the special measures put in place. The next step in our recovery process is a reorganisation across the board. In your hands, you will see the new organisational structure. This will replace what we have now. Everything you need to know should be in your handouts. If there are any queries, we will try to answer them for you as best we can. Thank you.’ Making a sharp turn on her heel Laura leaves the room.

  Snapping her folder shut, Julie hurries after her as rustling begins to spread across the room. I look for Chris, but he’s already in the middle of a group of woman scrutinising the contents so I make my way out on my own.

  On my way back to my desk, I flick through the pages until I reach the new organisational structure. My job is a way to pay the bills and I’m not one for office politics, so none of this interests me much. But I can imagine it falling into the “complete bombshell” category of Chris’ book. Looking at the new structure, I follow the chart until I find my position, or at least where my position should be. There are minor changes across the board, roles shifted, teams split up, etc. Then one gaping hole where I should be. I scan across the page, but I’m sure I can’t see my name anywhere.

  ‘Julie...’ I say as she rushes by.

  ‘I don’t have time now Gemma. I have something to do for Laura.’ She waves her hand past her face. ‘E-mail me if it's urgent.’

  ‘It’s just a quick query,’ I say stepping into her path. ‘I’m wondering if there’s a mistake on the organisational chart.’

  ‘A mistake? Not possible, I draughted it myself.’ Grabbing the paperwork from my hands, she scans the pages.