Reviews for Cowboys Never Fold
“Wade, the hot stable manager, and Kendra, the feisty resort owner, these two have chemistry that might short out your e-reader. I loved the humor, flow and cast of characters from the beginning to the end.” – The Page Princess
“This story is unique–some of the themes presented are uncommon. I love the way Ms. Post tackles a subject that many people may be unfamiliar with or even uncomfortable with. She brings humor to the story in places, and she also brings head-on confrontation of some interesting situations in other places.” – Amazon Review by SeekerOfGreatStories
Cowboys Never Fold was inspired by Bret Harte’s short story “The Outcasts of Poker Flat.”
Former professional poker player, Kendra “Night Owl” Lowe, is determined to make her new Poker Flat Nudist Resort successful, even if it means relying on her own two hands and a few misfit employees. All bets are off, however, when Wade Johnson arrives, her fourth stable manager in less than four months, and her attention wanders to his broad shoulders, six-pack abs, and polite ways. But she’s his boss and giving in to temptation could mean jeopardizing her operation. Something she refuses to do.
Wade Johnson only agreed to work at Poker Flat because he owed his best friend a favor. Now he has to discover why the last three stable mangers quit and fulfill the requirements of his position, while trying to keep his hands off the smart, sexy, unreadable owner. But even as his body and heart become more involved, new “unfortunate events” occur to threaten the resort.
As Wade draws closer to learning the truth, his own truth is revealed. Kendra will do everything she can to make her resort a success, which could include letting him go. To win her heart and save her dream, he will have to go all-in and that could mean baring more than his soul.
Excerpt from Cowboys Never Fold
Wade took the plate from her and brought it to the sink. “I’ll just wash these up for Selma and head to bed.”
Kendra was off the stool and grabbing the sprayer before he could reach it. “No. You made the meal for me. I can clean up. You’ve probably had a long day. When did you get up?”
He shrugged. “Probably around five. I didn’t really pay attention.”
“Exactly. I’ll stay and clean up. Go get a good night’s sleep. You have a lot of ordering to do tomorrow based on your lists.”
His eyes widened. “You really approve of everything?”
She put her other hand on her hip. “Listen. I don’t know anything about horses. All I know is what nudists like based on research. I’ll come up with something for the nude riding, but I need an expert to set up my stables and trails. You’re that expert. I’m not going to get in the way of that.”
He smiled, his eyes almost twinkling in his excitement. “Well then, boss. I definitely need to be doing the dishes for you.”
He reached for the sprayer and without thinking, she pulled it out and sprayed him.
“Oh my God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.” She stared as the shirt conformed to Wade’s body, the contours of his chest coming out in full relief. Turning away from the titillating sight, she grabbed a couple hand towels hanging next to the sink. She just didn’t want him to do the dishes. Now he would think she was the worst boss in the state.
Turning back to help him dry off, she froze. Wade had taken off his shirt, revealing his moist chest and arms. The man’s pectorals were what she called mountain muscles and the wet hair that formed a line straight down the middle of his rippled abdominals disappeared beneath blue jeans being held up by a big-buckled belt. She tried to look at his face but was drawn to his large biceps, which had been hidden by the shirt. She followed those to his shoulders where more muscle explained why he appeared so broad. He was. The man was walking muscle.
“Are those for me?”
His voice snapped her out of her drool-like state, and she looked him in the eye. The man’s lips formed a slow smirk.
“Yes. Here.” She gave him the towels and he pushed one back at her.
“Can you dry my back? That water sprayer is strong.”
“Right, of course.” She was bumbling like an idiot, but what woman wouldn’t be. Damn, the man was built. He made her feel petite despite being taller than average. He had to be well over six feet. Stepping behind him, she was treated to another tantalizing view. As he wiped at his chest and arms, the muscles in his back danced, showing the many layers he had. She hesitated to touch him. He would be warm and so male.
“Isn’t it wet?” He rolled his shoulders. “It feels like it.”
“Yes. Yes, it is.” She forced herself to use the towel against his skin, careful not to let her hand touch him. If it did, she wouldn’t be able to stop. She wiped at the moisture until he was dry, then took a deep breath and stepped around him, tossing the towel on the sink. “I’m sorry. I was just trying to keep you from washing the dishes.”
“No harm. I’ve been wet before.” His smile appeared again, and she had the strongest urge to kiss it.
Switching her weight to her right hip, she crossed her arms. “Well, I guess now you have to let me do the dishes.” She meant to sound flippant, but didn’t carry it off well.
He held out his towel. “Yup. Definitely got your way…this time.”
She uncrossed her arms to take the towel and crushed it against her chest. “Have a good night.”
He shrugged his large shoulders, causing her insides to tighten. Why did she have to be so susceptible to broad shoulders, and why did he have to have the most muscular ones she’d ever seen?
“It all depends on the bed.” He winked and brushed past her. Their arms touched for a second, his clean male scent, which was stronger now without his shirt, washed over her and almost buckled her knees.
She couldn’t resist and turned to watch him walk away, his back teasing her with its muscle play until the batwing doors swung closed behind him.
She pulled the damp towel up to her face and inhaled. God, the man smelled good. Damn. Built, well mannered, organized, knowledgeable and with a dark tan above his waist that made her want to crawl down his pants to see how far it went.
She groaned. Tan to the waist meant he was outside without a shirt more often than not. “Hell.” She was definitely screwed…or rather wanted to be. Could she ask Dale for another replacement stable manager?