Cocky Cowboy: A Second Chance Romance (Cocker Brothers of Atlanta Book 3) (2 page)

T
he ghost
from my past frowns like he can’t believe this is happening either. His lips part, but I never get to hear what he was going to say because Ryan has walked up without my noticing and interrupts, quickly mutating the surreal into very real.

“Let me guess. Ex-lover.”

I wince, but not because he’s right. Because for a few moments there I forgot Ryan even existed.

He’s wrong, actually. Jaxson Cocker and I were never lovers.

Not really.

We were…friends.

Blinking for some semblance of sanity, I stutter, “What? No! No. We went to grade school together. That’s all. Ryan, this is…” Shocked I’m saying his name, I introduce him in a quieter voice, “Jaxson.”

Ryan doesn’t move.

Jaxson doesn’t extend a hand either. Instead he crosses his arms and drinks in my city-man like he’s looking at a turd. Jaxson’s voice is so deepened from when I heard it last it jars me as he shoots back, “Let me guess. New York.”

My wealthy, elitist boyfriend cuts a scathing glance to the modest table of specialized cheeses and knives made with hand-carved black walnut handles. Label tents display the names and prices, and of course the cheese is all organic.

Ryan smirks, “Let me guess.
Loser.
”

Jaxson’s jaw ticks. So fast I don’t see it coming, he reaches all the way over the table and punches Ryan in the face. And it’s one hell of a punch, so much so that fresh coffee splashes everywhere.

“Still a wild card, huh?!” I bark at Jaxson, turning to my boyfriend. “You okay?”

Furious, Ryan cups his jaw as blood starts to drip down his lip from where his tooth cut it on impact. His hand and arm are dripping sugary brown. “You’re spending the night in jail, buddy!”

Jaxson’s lips turn back in a sneer. “Worth it.”

“Oh yeah?” Ryan snarls, pulling out his phone to follow through with his threat.

“No!” I claw at it, but he successfully holds it out of my reach and dials 911 with his thumb, arm high in the air. “Don’t overreact! You insulted him and he didn’t like it – that’s all!”

“Not your ex, Rachel? Huh? Wanna try again?”

Exasperated I shoot back, “I haven’t seen him since we were ten!”

“What?” Ryan’s fiery brown eyes flicker at this odd piece of truth.

“I’m serious. We were friends as children! That’s all! He used to torment me!”

It doesn’t stop him. Puffing his chest and turning away, he informs the dispatcher in a booming voice that he was assaulted.

Jeez.

Assaulted?

Really, Ryan?

As an audience grows I wrap my arms around my head, thinking,
this weekend couldn’t get any worse.

A younger vender in the next booth asks, “You okay, Jaxson?”

“I will be in a minute,” he cryptically mutters, walking out from behind the cheese table and glancing to me, holding my confused stare.

Ryan turns just in time to see him coming. His jaw drops in surprise as Jaxson raises his fist high and punches hard, knocking my boyfriend to the ground. The phone skitters across the pavement. The paper cup, too, its contents unleashed all over Ryan’s favorite three-hundred-dollar shirt.

Encircled by a growing number of gawkers, I’m totally and completely blown away speechless.

With Ryan knocked out, Jaxson turns to me. “If I’m goin’ to jail, might as well enjoy the fuck out of the ride.” His old oh-so-familiar smirk materializes, emerald eyes sparkling with amusement just like they always did back then.

Instantly I’m flooded with long-forgotten memories.

* * *

“
W
e shouldn’t be here
!” I whispered, but he would never listen.

“Come on, Rachel!” Jaxson said, his nine-year-old body ducking under the bent chicken wire fence of an abandoned factory.

“We’re supposed to be going to church!”

His bright green eyes danced as he waved me in. “No one’s gonna know! Watch out for that spider!”

I screamed and ran under the fence in order to dodge the deadly predator. At a safe distance I searched for it and found nothing as Jaxson’s laugh sounded behind me. Whirling around, I threw hands on my tiny hips. “There is no spider!”

“Got you here, didn’t I? What are you more afraid of, your parents or a spider?”

He took off running.

Which, as usual, made me chase after. “Jaxson Cocker, get back here!”

“What’re you gonna do, Rachel?” he called over his little boy shoulder. “Punch me? Oooooo, I’m scared!!”

My high-pitched voice shouted, “You’ll be sorry!”

Though I always threatened that, we both knew I was all bark and no bite. He was the animal, always fearless and loving to ignore what adults told him to do. He made his own decisions and didn’t care if people didn’t like it. In fact, if they didn’t, he enjoyed watching them freak out.

Jaxson was the only boy in our class who always caused the teachers stress. The one who inspired his younger brother Jerald to work really hard to keep up with and sometimes one-up him in pranks and rebelliousness, making Trinity Elementary a Cocker Brothers war zone.

As I rounded the dirty warehouse’s corner, hundreds of sunflowers came into view. They had grown freely thanks to the absence of a lawnmower whirring over this property for many years.

Jaxson jumped out with his hands way up. “BOO!”

I screamed and grabbed my scared heart. “I don’t know why I hang out with you, Jaxson. You’re not nice!”

His grin spread in the most adorable way as he ran a hand through sun-kissed brown hair, the same color as mine. “Really, Rachel? You don’t know?”

“I really don’t! You’re a stinker!”

He smirked, “You hang out with me because you’re in love with me.”

My jaw dropped in horror. “As if! You only wish! Ha! Keep dreaming!”

“The lady doth protest too much, me thinks,” he laughed. “Come on.”

Ever since our fourth-grade class’s field trip to see Hamlet performed live on stage, Jaxson had been quoting it. He loved to read almost as much as I did, which was what made us friends in the first place. We always fought to answer the questions first in English class, each raising our hand higher in an effort to win. I often won, but not because I was taller. He was the tallest boy in the school. No, I got picked because our poor teacher didn’t want to egg him on.

I knew the feeling.

I followed him to the sunflowers, wondering how in the world he’d talked me into being at this forgotten place. Glancing behind me to make sure no adults were around, I worried like crazy. I knew exactly how much trouble I’d be in when my parents noticed I wasn’t with Brittany, Heather and Cora.

They’d realize who I was with, and then I’d be grounded.

And yet…there I was anyway.

I couldn’t help it.

When Jaxson asked me to do something, I did it.

With two hands he grabbed a perfect sunflower at its base and tore it out of the ground. It was nearly as tall as I was. His face went soft as he offered it to me, spindly roots shooting out the bottom, the top stunningly bright.

“Rachel, here. This is almost as pretty as you.”

I took the extended flower with quiet shockwaves running through my little body because it was the first time Jaxson Cocker had said anything sweet to me. I expected his arrogant smirk to appear and for the mockery to ensue, but they remained absent.

The gap between our bodies somehow disappeared and the toes of our sneakers touched. I don’t think either of us knew what was happening. We both had confusion on our nine-year-old faces like a magnet had brought us together against our will. I forgot to breathe. He was breathing fast.

And then he kissed me.

It was sweet and soft.

Just a pressing of his lips onto mine and holding there, without moving one bit.

“What are you kids doing!!?” A large man in grey work-jumpers shouted at us, “Get outta here!”

I gasped.

Jaxson grabbed my free hand. “Come on!”

We took off running, the flower bouncing in my grip.

“
I
think
you’re lying to me,” Ryan snarls, shoving his phone in his pocket after answering another work email.

Sitting on my parent’s guest bed, I remind him, “You know I moved to New York when I was ten. You think I was pen pals with a boy from grade school? Come on.”

He glares at me, dark brown hair and pale skin, perfect. Ryan Morrison’s only flaw is his endless ambition, in my opinion. At least that’s what I used to think. Now, I guess I have to add ‘oftentimes rude’ to the short list.

His eyes narrow. “Are you friends on Facebook?”

That’s a valid question considering this day and age with so many people reconnecting over the internet, even after decades of never seeing each other. But I have a hard time believing Jaxson Cocker would even be on Facebook.

I won’t tell Ryan this but I did think of searching for him when it first came out, only I could just imagine him scoffing at social media. He always went the opposite way of people. And truthfully? I like believing that about him, even if it was a belief born of a childhood friendship. I didn’t want to alter that by finding him posting about what he ate for dinner.

“No! I’ve never even looked for him! It was so long ago we were friends, you’re worrying about nothing.” Off Ryan’s face, I motion to his pocket. “Go check my account if you’re so worried. You know the password! It’s the same as my email. Read all my messages while you’re at it.”

He cocks his head like he’s trying to believe me, but doesn’t. Now I’m just getting irritated.

“You know what, Ryan, the people who are jealous are usually the ones doing bad things.”

Walking to loom over me with his 6’1” stature he growls, “What are you saying? I’m not cheating on you, Rachel.”

“Well, you’re not committing to me either.”

Oh shit. I didn’t mean to say that.

He blinks and steps back to run one thick hand through his hair. “So that’s why you shut down on me last night.” He glances to me. “I thought you were just being sensitive, but it’s more than that. You thought I was going to propose this weekend.”

Hearing it said aloud stings. This is not the romantic way I wanted things to go down. Time machine, anyone?

The last thing a woman wants is to bring up the anticipated proposal before the man does.

Time to change the subject back.

“No. It’s just…you’re making me defend something silly. Jaxson is just a boy I knew when I was a very little girl. That’s all. We have no connection whatsoever.”

“I saw your face, Rachel!”

My rarely seen temper flares and I shout, “You saw
surprise
! God, get off my case! It’s been over twenty years. You would have had the same expression if you saw someone like that!”

Ryan’s dark eyebrows are up. He stares at me a hot second then steps closer to run his hand lovingly down my arm, taking my hand and squeezing it. His voice is gentle for the first time since we got home as he murmurs, “Rachel, I don’t know if marriage is for me.”

Oh my God. Here I was thinking we were discussing Jaxson like he was really jealous, but it was a diversion. When actually he’s been inwardly fighting the idea of marriage and using my childhood friend as a scapegoat. Men can be so tricky.

I’m staring at him wondering, holy cow, is this why he’s been extra rude this weekend? To push my buttons? Or because he’s unsure of how he feels about me? Testing the water with the parents, observing me in a new environment? Watching me like a parole officer to see if I behave correctly? Learn if he wants me forever? Oh my God.

When a man loves you he
knows
if he wants to put that ring on. And Ryan is telling me he doesn’t.

Like I’ve been slapped and slapped hard, I tug away from his hand, stepping back into the side of the guest bed. “You said…”

“I know what I said, but it’s going to be some years before I’m made partner, and I want to offer you more than just
this
salary, especially if we’re going to have children.”

He looks so sincere that it takes me a second to realize he’s full of shit.

J
ustin and Jake
walk up to my cell. Even though they’re my younger brothers, they don’t look very much alike, and I’m a mix between the two.

Justin’s toe-head-blonde with pale green eyes that he inherited from our father’s side. Jake’s got the tan coloring, dark brown hair and brown eyes of our mother’s side. But they both have the same swagger and smirks, and there’s a self-possession we all carry that would make anyone guess we were related, on sight.

In his normal dark jeans and black t-shirt, Jake chuckles, “Just like old times.”

“I’m too old for this shit,” I toss back, amused and happy to see them as I rise up. “Did you tell Dad?”

Justin leans on the bars in his navy blue suit while a young, male police officer begins to unlock the communal cell.

As the rattling key ring echoes off lonely walls, Justin asks, “You think the Chief didn’t already call Dad? Because he did. Then Dad called me when we were on our way over.”

The iron door creaks open and I give my long body a stretch as I stroll out to freedom. “What’d Dad say?”

“Said, and I quote, ‘Of course he gets into trouble after
Jerald
stayed with him. That boy’s a bad influence. On everyone.’”

I share a glance with them before I mutter, “Predictable that he blames Jett for this. And that he won’t stop calling him that stupid name.”

Jake grumbles, “Calling him Jerald is Dad’s little dig. I swear he’s never gonna give it up. Petty bullshit.”

Justin agrees, “It’s beneath him.”

We all admire our father to the point of worship. That he hangs onto calling Jett by his birth-certificate name is more than a little irritating.

Even Jett admires Dad, despite their feud.

Michael Cocker is loyal, strong and a man of integrity. Keeps his word. Cares about his family and is there when we need him. Everything a man should be. Our grandmother and grandfather did a good job in raising him, if you ask me. He’s a congressman who cares very much about laws and America’s lawmakers. He walks the talk and lives an honest life, which he passed onto us.

Jett and his motorcycle club break rules like they never existed. They do it for good reason, to help those who can’t help themselves, but Dad can’t see that.

We all wish they’d come together, especially Mom. At times when we least expect it they temporarily bury the hatchet. But it’s a rare day and it never lasts.

With a wave Justin calls back to the police officer, “Thanks, Eric. You did me a solid. Call me when you wanna grab a beer.”

“No problem, Justin,” the cop nods. “I thought it was a bum deal anyhow.” He stays back to yell at a drunken inmate, “Hey! There’s a toilet for that!”

As I collect my keys, wallet and phone from a pretty cop who hasn’t decided which of the three of us she likes better, I ask Jake, “Why aren’t you on your honeymoon?”

“Got back this morning,” he smirks, his mind clearly on a sex-filled vacation. “Dropped my gorgeous new wife at home and ran straight over.”

“She pissed you ditched her?” Justin asks.

“First off, I would never ditch her. And second off, she needs a nap after the workout I gave her,” he grins.

“Nice,” Justin laughs, the afternoon sun hitting our faces as we head for his Audi.

I glance into its blinding light, my mind on Rachel’s hair illuminated by it when I watched her in the market before she spotted me. How she tucked it behind her ear. Her soft smile as she passed by the stands she wanted to stop at but didn’t because she was too busy following that dickhead.

Rachel Sawyer. Holy shit. Can’t believe I saw her after all these years.

Blinking back to my toe-headed brother, it occurs to me that his twin is absent for my jailhouse breakout. Not normal. They’re always together except at work. “Hey Justin, where’s Jason?”

“Picking up your booth. His ridiculous Escalade is good for something after all. Can fit all that stuff.”

“Lost a lot of perishables,” I mutter, shaking my head.

“Nope. I guess you had a friend there who loaded up your coolers so nothing went bad. The guy packed up your tent, too.”

“Really? Huh,” I mutter. “I just met him today. What a good guy.” I pull out my phone and the business card the kid gave me, sending a quick text telling him I appreciate him looking out.

Then I send one to Jason with the address of where he can drop everything off. He immediately texts back:

You got it. Wouldn’t want you to punch me.

Chuckling to myself I tuck the phone in my jeans pocket.

Jake, second youngest of six Cocker brothers, holds the passenger door open and has the balls to say, “Get in back, felon.”

Sliding my phone into my pocket, I cock an eyebrow at him. “Yeah, right. Oldest gets shotgun. Forever.”

“Bullshit.” Jake stares at me and sees I’m not kidding. Grumbling, “You suck,” he climbs in the back where he can’t stretch his legs out. “I’d prefer the Escalade right about now.”

As the Audi hums to life, Justin says over his shoulder, “Then go walk to it. I ain’t stoppin’ you.”

I adjust the seat for
my l
ong legs making Jake swear at me as I hit his knees, which of course gets me laughing.

Justin chuckles as he backs out of the parking space. His voice is somber as he asks, “Okay, what the fuck happened today?”

My smile evaporates remembering Rachel’s city boyfriend and how fucking smug he looked. And he was standing next to her like he deserved her. He deserved what he got.

* * *

S
neaking
into the church mid-mass we tiptoed into the back pew, Rachel still holding fast to my uprooted sunflower. It was a wreck from the run. Her always-pink cheeks had deepened to bright crimson and she was silently panting.

So was I, but not from the run.

It was our first kiss.

I was only nine so girls weren’t interesting to me.

Except this one.

Rachel could really keep up even though she acted like she couldn’t. We had a lot of adventures like this one, minus the kiss, and during all of them she fought me, which made it more fun.

I loved shocking her, too. It was fun making her do things she would never do with those stupid friends she hung out with, especially Cora who was the girliest girl in our school.

I also liked that Rachel was smart and read as many books as I did. We talked about things I couldn’t with Jerald because he preferred television to reading.

As Father Joseph read Psalm 23, I stared at her. Her sky-blue eyes were locked on him.

I started to whisper a quote to her from Hamlet, the letter read by Polonius in Act II. It was one of many I’d memorized after our class saw the play at the Alliance Theater. I grabbed a copy from the library and read it before bed for nights on end.

“Doubt thou the stars are fire.” Rachel’s eyes locked with mine as I continued, “Doubt that the sun doth move. Doubt truth to be a liar. But never doubt I love.”

Her color deepened more.

An old man in the pew ahead hissed, “Shhh!!!”

Rachel and I looked at him, then back at each other.

A smile lit up her flushed face, and I reached for her hand. Our fingers clasped then squeezed harder. She tried to show me she was stronger. We always competed like this. As I used all my strength she bit her lips in an effort not to yelp. I leaned in to whisper, “Will you marry me?”

She nodded, and I stopped squeezing.

* * *

S
taring into the memory
, my voice goes low. “Some New York douche bag called me a loser.”

The car is silent until Jake finally ventures to say, “Jax, people don’t usually get to you that easily.”

“No,” I mutter. “They don’t.”

I know my brothers want me to explain in more detail but they know me better than to ask or expect it.

Truth is they wouldn’t know who Rachel was to me. She’s the same age I am, and we haven’t seen each other in twenty-two years. With Justin and Jake’s age differences, it’s useless even bringing up her name. Plus, I’m not the explaining type.

Jett would remember her. He’d be just as impressed by this serendipitous run-in as I am.

But he’s busy with his woman and she gave him one hell of a ride, so I’m positive his mind is on only one thing now — making sure she’s happy and sexually satisfied so she never runs off.

I have to decide what I want to do.

Let Rachel go, or try to find her?

The thing that has me deliberating long and hard is the inarguable fact that she’s not single.

I’ve got the bruised knuckles to prove it.

She called me a wild card and went to his defense. Hell, if she’d done anything else I would’ve been surprised, and also not respected her since she was there with him. But I saw in her eyes that she cares for the dickhead.

So…what’s my next action? I should just let it go.

But I just want to say hello to her.

See how she’s been.

No big deal.

That’s what I kept telling myself as I sat in that cell, but there’s a nagging suspicion that I’m lying.

Rachel is the only girl I never got bored of spending time with no matter how many hours we were together. I enjoyed her company almost more than Jett’s, and that’s saying a lot. We used to ditch him sometimes because I liked to just sit and talk to her and he was a lot wilder than that. Talking bored him.

I’m not a big talker either, except…with that girl I was.

But I’m not going to chase anyone, am I?

Jesus, what a fucked up thought.

She’s taken. I’ve never been that kind of guy to go after another man’s woman.

Especially since I don’t need anyone.

I’m happy the way I am.

I’ve got my land, my home, my animals.

Give me dawn’s morning light over an open pasture of lime green grass with my own cows and horses grazing on it, and I’m a happy man.

Never had to seek out a woman. They always fell at my feet. A man has needs and I’ve acted on them, and I always treat the ladies with respect. I just don’t stay long is all.

But for the last few years I’ve chosen to shove my more primal needs down, preferring to work on my ranch rather than deal with the hassle of a woman losing her shit.

The last one was a year ago.

Short term. Little payoff. Big pain in the ass.

She wanted to lock it down and come meet my parents before two months was up.

No one ever meets my family, but that’s true of all us brothers. Jake’s wife was an exception. Jett’s new woman, the same. But they’re forever and my brothers knew it deep in their guts.

Only Justin’s twin Jason has ventured to bring a few girls home because he wears his heart on his sleeve, which we want to smack him for all the trouble it gives him and us. But even he stopped doing that sometime back during college.

We’re careful.

We have to be.

The women of Atlanta — especially the moms who have daughters — have their sights set on us.

Old money. Politician dad.

Well-respected, philanthropic mother.

All six brothers, successful in their fields, well built and confident.

Some call us cocky.

I call us comfortable in our skins and aware of our worth.

Hell, if I could convince more people to let go of insecurity and just be who they are, I would, but people like to hold onto their demons and that’s none of my business. Hopefully they’ll catch on sooner rather than later.

Me?

It’s a short life.

I just want to work on my land and live alone.

I’m not a game-player.

Not like Justin to my left here. He loves that shit. Probably why he wants to be senator one day. No bigger game than the U.S. government.

As he turns up the music and screeches left onto Peachtree Ave, my mind is miles away, playing this morning’s events in a loop.

It hit me like a thunderbolt when I saw that spark in her eyes. I think sometimes you recognize souls more than faces.