Chapter 7

The small town of Steele is cute. City life is fast and harsh, but here, everything feels warm, inviting, and relaxed. The main street I’m on right now is well-maintained, and while it’s not a large town, the shops and markets clearly see love from travelers. I’m not the only one meandering around, many groups of people strolling along the street to take in the small antique shops and unique shopping.

I turn us toward the small coffee shop I’m parked in front of. The name on the door says, “Ugly Mug Coffee” in bright painted letters, and through the glass, I can see a woman bustling around behind a counter. There’s no sign on the window saying no pets, so I pop open the door and peek my head in.

“Excuse me,” I call, and the woman turns around. “Would it be okay if my cat comes in with me? He’s on a leash and very well trained.”

The woman blinks in surprise and peers down at William where he sits at my side. “Well, would you look at that!” she exclaims, coming around the counter. “I ain’t ever seen something like that! Of course you can come in, but under one condition.”

I pause as I open the door. “What’s that?”

“I get to pet him,” she answers with a grin. She comes over and kneels down when I step inside, and William immediately comes up to say hello. “I have three kitties at home,” she explains. “I just adore the sweetlings. I’m working with a rescue to foster two more but shhh, don’t tell my neighbor. He already complains.”

As she stands, she winks conspiratorially at me, and I can’t help but like the woman immediately.

“Your secret is safe with me,” I promise, looking around. “This place is adorable.”

The inside of the coffee shop is equally as cute as the outside. The name suddenly makes sense when I see all the seemingly handmade mugs sitting behind the counter and on shelves along the walls. Some of them are as ugly as the name implies, but some of them are impressive.

“I partner with Mary Carter over at the ceramic center,” she offers as explanation when she realizes what I’m looking at. “The kids can go in and make a mug and then they have the option to take it home, display it here, or have it glazed and go into rotation.” She gestures to the ones behind the counter. “We serve in house coffee in the mugs Mary makes, but every now and then, one of the kids adds theirs in.” She picks up one with a grumpy face sculpted into it. “This is my favorite. The hubby made it for me as a joke.”

My heart melts. Holy shit. There’s nothing like this back home. “That’s the most adorable thing I’ve ever heard,” I say, pressing my hand to my chest. “All you need is some cats in here. Cat cafés are all the rage back in. . . well, where I’m from. Then you could foster as many kitties as you’d like, neighbor approved or not.”

I realize I should probably be careful with how much information I actually give out when I’m trying to stay anonymous. I like this place, but I still need to be mindful of what I say. I can’t trust anyone, no matter how wholesome they seem.

She tilts her head. “That must be a city thing,” she muses. “I’d love to do that but unfortunately, I’m not sure how well that would do here. Most people don’t seem to mind cats, but there are plenty of dog people around here who’d look at a cat and tip their noses up.”

I smile. “I think you’d be wonderful at it. I’m Kate by the way.” I don’t offer a last name on purpose.

“I’m Georgia,” she replies. “Like the state. My Momma was from there and missed home so much she named me after it.” She moves back behind the counter. “What can I get you Kate and. . .”

“William Shakespurr,” I supply helpfully when she gestures toward the cat sniffing at the nearby counter.

Georgia claps her hands together and laughs. “The best name! What can I get you two? I have some cat treats in my purses if it’s okay for him to have some.”

“He would absolutely love that,” I reply with a smile. “As for me, some coffee. I could use something good.”

“Any particular preference? Do you like sweet or savory?” She taps the flavor list in case I’d missed it.

“Sweet, please. And anything but coconut.”

“Coming right up, Sugar!” she says and turns to immediately start making my drink.

I turn, intending to find a table to sit at, but my eyes catch on a man through the window. He turns and shouts something over his shoulder to someone, a grin on his face, before he reaches for the coffee shop’s door and comes inside. He’s dressed in jeans that hug his ass in just the right way and a button-down plaid shirt rolled up at the sleeves. There’s a black cowboy hat on his head that casts a shadow over his face. When he tips his face up to the light, I get a good look at a clean jawline and bright green eyes.

“Georgia!” he calls, his voice light and cheerful. “You mind if I put up a flyer in the window? Dakota wants us to hire some people to help out at Steele Mountain.” His eyes flicker over to me and hold for a few seconds, before dancing back to Georgia.

“Of course, Sug. That boss of yours got you working overtime?” she calls from where she grinds coffee beans.

“Always,” he answers with a grin as he comes inside fully and pulls a tape dispenser from his back pocket. “You know Dakota don’t know how to relax and have fun.” He tips his hat to me, and I nearly melt. “Ma’am.”

Shit. Cowboys? There aren’t any cowboys back home. If there were, I’d have been in trouble, because this man? He oozes charm. I bet he knows how to treat a girl so nice.

He starts working on taping a piece of paper to the window and I walk over to take a look, both out of curiosity and because I kind of want to smell him. When I get close, vanilla and bay rum tickle my nose. Man. He even smells nice.

“What is it you’re hiring for?” I ask.

He glances over his shoulder at me with a charming smile. “Help on our ranch. Things get a little hectic during the spring and summer and we could use a spare set of hands to wrangle the cattle and feed the horses.”

That sounds like heaven. Mountains, horses, and cowboys with charming smiles? Wyoming doesn’t seem so bad. “And anyone can apply?”

He shrugs. “Anyone willing to work, I suppose. There’s not much need for experience but lodging and meals are provided so there’s a bit of a background check done by Dakota.” He looks me up and down, taking in my back sweatpants and baggy rock band shirt. My hair is tied up in a messy bun and falling out from my drive. I wince at his perusal but he doesn’t seem to mind as he nods appreciatively. “You interested? We don’t get too many city folks out there.”

“I. . .I don’t know,” I answer honestly, worrying my bottom lip. “Maybe.”

He grins. “Well, if you’re interested, just come on out to the address listed here.” He passes me one of the flyers where it was folded up in his back pocket. “Tell them Wiley sent you if I ain’t around.”

He winks at me and my heart thumps wildly at the gesture. The man is pure charm and charisma. He tips his hat one more time to me, and then to Georgia.

“See you, Georgia!” he calls before leaving with one more grin toward me before he’s strolling down the street. I stare after him, noting that I really like cowboy jeans. More men should wear them because … damn.

“He’s something, ain’t he?” Georgia says suddenly from beside me, startling me. “If I were ten years younger, I’d be all over that one. All the men at Steele Mountain Ranch could make a nun sweat.” She passes me a mug with what looks like boobs. They’re lopsided and uneven but it just gives it more character. “You thinkin’ of stickin’ around, Sugar?”

I tilt my head. “I’m certainly thinking,” I murmur before taking a sip. My eyes widen and I glance over at Georgia with wide eyes. “Oh my god. Georgia! How are you not famous? This is fucking amazing!”

Georgia grins. “Them city coffee shops ain’t got nothing on me.” With a wink, she stoops and passes William some cat treats while I look out the window and search for Wiley.

I’m certainly thinking alright. This place feels a little more homey when I think about the cowboys just prancing around on the streets.

The world needs more cowboys, I think, and I’m so tempted to head out to the address and check things out. It can’t be that bad, right?