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understand. Is there anything I can get for you?”

Callie’s gaze fell to the living room. “No. I’ll be okay. Go back to your movie. I might have an early night.” She reached out and pulled Grace in for a hug. “I love you.”

“Love you, too, Mum.”

She knew going to bed with a glass of wine was a bit pathetic. At least it wasn’t a bottle, she reasoned. Besides, she needed some time alone with her thoughts. Had she been foolish, allowing this man to infiltrate her life and her family? She had let him into her bed. Had enjoyed his touch, his company. Her stomach churned, and the wine threatened to expel itself, so she placed her glass down on the bedside table. She ran her hand over the side of the bed, where Cody had slept. He had been at Carrillo for two months. Sleeping in her bed for weeks. She had been thoughtless in letting him in. Had known it was opening herself up to the potential of being hurt. It wasn’t just herself she had to worry about. She had allowed him into her children’s lives. He had let them down. She had let them down.

“Mum.” The soft knocking at her bedroom door had her padding across the carpet to open it. “Cody’s at the door. Should I let him in?” Grace asked.

Callie’s mind whirred, and her skin prickled with tiny goosebumps at the mention of his name. “No. Tell him I’m in bed.”

Grace nodded before turning away, and a pang of guilt gnawed at her. She shouldn’t leave her daughter to do her work for her. She just wasn’t ready to face him. Maybe she never would be, not after what she’d just seen.

“Callie!” Cody’s voice rang out from the other side of the glass door that led from the veranda straight to her bedroom. “Cal, it’s me. Let me in.”

“Go away, Cody,” she replied dryly.

“Are you okay? I thought you were coming to the party?”

Sucking in a deep centering breath, she took a step toward the door, but she didn’t open it. She couldn’t bear to see him standing there.

“I’m not coming to your party, Cody. Have fun with your friends,” she bit out.

“It’s not the same without you. C’mon.”

“Go away, Cody.”

“Let me in, Cal. If you don’t wanna come, we can have our party here.”

Opening the door just a crack, the smell of beer and smoke wafted in. “Go away, Cody. We’re done. Don’t bother coming back here again.”

“But . . .” he tried, a look of confusion washing over his face.

“But, nothing. I don’t want to see you anymore. Go back to your party. Enjoy your . . . friends,” she ground out the last word, wanting to bite her tongue off.

“Can we at least talk about it?”

“There’s nothing to talk about, Cody.”

A pained look crossed his features, and she closed the door. She couldn’t stand to see him looking sorry for himself. He was a player, and she had been played. He could go back to his blonde bimbo. She seemed happy enough to give him what he wanted. He might think he could run to her as soon as he got worked up, probably thought she was easy. She wasn’t going there. Wasn’t going to be used. She knew she should never have gotten involved with a bloody cowboy.

Chapter Fourteen

“Do you know who I am?”

The man’s voice boomed as Cody neared the office, making him pick up his pace.

“I am Maxwell Donaldson III. My family has been bull-riding champions for generations.”

He paused just outside the open door, awaiting her reply.

“I don’t care if you’re Saint Nicholas. The rules are the rules. You had as much time to register for the event as everyone else did, Mr. Donaldson. If you didn’t, that’s not my problem.”

“Old Vin would never have turned me away,” he argued.

“Well, Vin Carrillo isn’t running this show anymore. I am. If you don’t like it, register on time, next time.”

Cody smiled to himself; he loved her sass. That was his girl. His girl? She didn’t want a bar of him. His heart sank a little at the thought. He’d blown his chance, and he didn’t even know why. One minute she had been keen to attend the party with him, the next, she was telling him she didn’t want to see him anymore.

“I wouldn’t bother with her, mate.” the man moaned as he pushed past him. “She’s a right bitch.”

Cody’s fingers curled into fists. She was far from a bitch. No one spoke about Callie like that. He had a sound mind to let Maxwell Donaldson the third know exactly how he felt about that.

“Cody,” her sweet voice pulled his from his anger, and he turned to find her behind him. A tight-fitting pair of denim jeans had replaced the usual business attire she wore in her office. Her button-up shirt sported rhinestones that trailed across her shoulders. He wanted to fasten her top button to dissuade anyone else from seeing her ample cleavage. On her head, she wore the white cowboy hat he had noticed hanging in her hall.

“Wow, you look . . .” he paused. What he wanted to say was delicious, especially as her questioning blue eyes met his.

“So do you,” she breathed.

Her words almost knocked him off balance, as her eyes dropped and scanned his body. Perhaps there was still a chance for them. Maybe she still wanted him. God knew he hadn’t stopped wanting her. Had he not given her enough of a chance? Should he have pushed her harder the other night? He shook the thoughts from his mind.

“I just popped in to let you know some dickwad left the gate open in the bottom paddock. Probably trying to sneak in and avoid having to buy a ticket. Apparently, the sheep are out on the road. I’m going to grab Marla and duck down there. I’ll move the mob to the other side of the creek; that way, they should be

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