A Cowboy for the CEO

Chapter 11: Winner Takes it All

A long, hot shower scrubbed off the grime, but it would take a lot more to clear Ali's head of the added stress from her self-inflicted ordeal. Over the next few days she tried everything Dr. Sacher recommended—from a Swedish massage to meditation to fishing—but nothing could shake her out of this newfound funk.

Seeing Hank's freshly laundered and pressed shirt folded on her dresser just waiting to be returned just made things worse. She didn't want to pass it back through the reception desk or even through one of her friends. This wasn't high school, after all. But delivering it in person promised to be awkward if she didn't frame it right.

Here's your shirt back. Oh, and sorry for being an idiot you had to save thanks to her own incompetence. Have a nice day.

Yup. That definitely wasn't going to work.

Sullenly making her way to a late lunch, Ali's found her saving grace in who she was sure had to be the most carefree person in Colorado. Dressed in head-to-toe black—including lace-up gladiator sandals and a cropped leather jacket—with a large yellow handbag draped over one arm, Pete strolled across the room like he owned the place. Chatting away on his cell phone, he didn't even see her until she tapped him on the shoulder.

She smiled after he ended the call. "Going out?"

"Yes, ma'am. Would you like to come with?" he asked.

Having now spent nearly a week solely within the bounds of Pebble Creek, Ali jumped at the chance. "Absolutely. Give me five minutes to make myself presentable."

"Oh, sweet pea. You're going to need more than five." He laughed and picked up the sign-out clipboard as Ali hurried back to her room to change out of her comfy but inelegant T-shirt and sweatpants. When she was dressed more appropriately in a low cut, moss-green jumpsuit and heels, they hopped into Pete's red convertible and headed north to Denver.

"So what's your game plan?" Ali asked, trying to keep her wind-whipped hair out of her face.

"A little shopping, maybe dinner. Oh, and I desperately need to get my nails done." He scrutinized his outstretched fingers from behind his mirrored sunglasses. "You up for it?"

"That sounds like heaven," she admitted. "What's the occasion?"

"Freedom, baby." Pete laughed. "I'm done. Outta here. Heading home on Friday."

"Really? Congratulations," she said with full sincerity. "I know we just met, but I'm going to miss you."

He laughed again, throwing his head back in the process. "I'm gonna miss you, too. But not as much as I'm going to miss the view."

Ali looked at the passing landscape. Evergreens lined the highway on both sides and snow-topped mountains peeked through in the distance. "Yeah. This place is gorgeous," she said.

"Oh, I wasn't talking about that. We have plenty of this nature stuff back home in California." He waved dismissively at the scenery.

Ali suddenly remembered his remark about Hank the first time she saw the handsome cowboy. "Oh." She felt her face flush.

"Yeah. You know who I'm talking about!" Pete exclaimed, poking her in the shoulder.

The rest of the afternoon passed by just as lightheartedly. They left the historic Larimer Square with bags full of the summer's most chic designs from local favorites like Blue Ruby and Frinje, and Ali was even able to get her friend into the Denver Art Museum's gift shop. She couldn't pass up a fabulous ginkgo-shaped silver bracelet in their window, but it was as far as Pete was willing to go within the building.

"Food. I need food," he moaned once they were back in his sporty Mercedes.

"All right, all right. But this city supposedly has some of the finest dining in the country, and I'm not about to waste this chance by eating someplace I can find back home," Ali chided.