Julie Benson - Home on the Ranch - Colorado - Big City Cowboy / Colorado Cowboy

Before he could answer, the ladies all started talking at once, creating quite a noise. To the general crowd he blurted out, “Excuse me, I’ve got to go.”

But when he stepped forward to leave, the circle didn’t budge, and someone grabbed his arm. Fear shot through him. The women had him so surrounded that if he pulled away, he’d knock half of them down.

He turned to the heavyset woman at his elbow and smiled. “Would you mind letting go of my arm? I’m thinking I might need it later today.”

She leaned closer, and the bitter smell of coffee assailed him. “I’m from Littleton. Where in Colorado are you from?”

“I’m from Estes Park.”

Another woman grabbed his left arm. His fear spiked up a notch. “Ladies, if you don’t let go, you’re going to pull me apart like a wishbone.”

“Only if you agree not to go anywhere.”

Right now he’d agree to just about anything to get these two to free him. “I can stick around awhile.”

Apparently satisfied with his promise to stay, the women released him.

But when an escape route presented itself he’d be outta here faster than a jackrabbit with a coyote on its tail. Only who knew how long one would take to appear?

Then someone pinched him on the ass. He jumped and spun around, looking for the guilty party, not quite sure what to do if he identified her.

He drew the line at grabby women. His chest tightened and his heart banged painfully against his ribs. It was either him or them, because he couldn’t take this anymore. Deciding to call in reinforcements rather than trample the women as he broke free, he grabbed his cell phone and called Lizzie. “I need your help.”

“What’s wrong?”

A woman shoved a Wal-Mart receipt and a pen into his hand. “Will you sign an autograph for me?”

“Do you have any pictures like the one on the billboard to sign?” someone else yelled. “I’d love one of those.”

He tried to tune out the barrage of questions. “They’ve got me surrounded. You have to help me get back to the hotel.”

“Who?”

“What hotel are you staying at?” someone shouted at him.

They could torture him for days, but no way would he give out that information.

“Women have me surrounded,” he said, cupping his hand, still clutching the now sweaty pen and paper, around his ear in an attempt to hear better. “There’s a whole herd of them. They’re asking for my autograph. They’re asking if I have pictures like the billboard. I don’t know what to do, and they won’t let me leave.”

“This is fantastic!”

“No, it’s not.” A camera flash went off in his face, momentarily blinding him. Great. Now he was completely defenseless.

“We have a few photos of the billboard shot. I’ll be there with them in ten minutes. This is exactly the kind of reaction we want.”

“I’m glad one of us is happy, but you’d better get here sooner than ten minutes.”

“Whatever you do, be nice. Keep people talking, and try to get them to stay. As often as you can, mention Devlin’s men’s jeans and that they’re available at department stores.”

He was in the middle of a feeding frenzy, and Lizzie was worried about how often he mentioned the product? Didn’t her business mind ever take a day off?

He and Griff had often fought over the last cookie in the jar. More often than not, the treat had ended up in pieces. Rory never dreamed he’d one day know how the cookie felt.

* * *

CLUTCHING A HANDFUL of photos and wearing a huge smile, Elizabeth hurried to Times Square. Rory said a crowd had gathered. She should’ve asked him how many people were there. He lived in a town of seven thousand, so probably thought ten people constituted a crowd.

Her mind raced, trying to develop ways to capitalize on the situation. Hopefully, people would still be there when she arrived. That way they could keep the impromptu autographing going. If she got lucky, and it was a slow news day, maybe a local channel would stop by.

Why leave the situation to chance? Make it happen, but not with the local stations. The Wake Up America studio sat right on Times Square. She pulled out her phone and called a reporter on the show that she’d met at a breast cancer awareness event she’d attended last year. “Brooke, have you seen the new Times Square billboard?”

“Is it one of yours?”

“Sure is, and this cowboy’s a dream.”

“I’ll have to check it out.”

“My guy’s there now, and from what I hear, he’s gathering quite a crowd. Women are already recognizing him.” Elizabeth sped up and dodged a cab. “If it’s a slow day, it could make a cute filler piece on tomorrow’s show. Colorado cowboy takes the big city by storm.”

“Trolling for free publicity again?”

“This could be mutually beneficial. Rory’s the new spokesman for Devlin’s men’s jeans. He’s going to be hot. You could be the first show to interview him.”

She turned the corner onto Broadway and spotted a crowd of at least thirty women. “Got to go. Trust me. Get over here. You don’t want to miss out on this.”

Adrenaline shot through Elizabeth’s system. She couldn’t have orchestrated a better scenario. Rushing forward, she started handing out Rory’s photo to women, and shoved a Sharpie into his hand.

“Get me out of here,” he pleaded, his eyes wide with fear.

She almost laughed. The man towered above the women and outweighed most of them by at least fifty pounds.

“No way. We’re making the most of this.”

He leaned down and his warm breath tickled her ear. “They’re getting grabby. I’ve been pinched three times.”

She couldn’t hold back her laughter this time. To these women Rory probably looked like a piece of chocolate cake at a Weight Watchers meeting. “You’ll survive. Sometimes you’ve got to take one for the team.”

He glared at her. “The team damned well better appreciate this.”

“Duly noted.”

Part of her did feel sorry for him. Models expected this kind of thing and had experience dealing with public appearances. Rory was completely out of his element. She made a mental note to prep him for these types of public situations. Her instincts told her this wouldn’t be the last time someone recognized him.

“Ladies, Rory will be glad to talk to all of you. If you could just move back a little bit to give him some breathing room, that would be great.”

While he signed autographs and answered personal questions, she told everyone they could find Devlin’s men’s jeans at most department stores. She and Rory made a pretty good team. Once they returned to the office, she’d call Devlin to tell him Rory had been recognized from the billboard, and that the reaction he’d received had been exactly what they’d hoped for.

The situation went great for about ten minutes. Then suddenly, a fortysomething woman dressed in skintight jeans and a rhinestone T-shirt cupped her hand around Rory’s magnificent butt and goosed him. He jumped, his panicked gaze locking with Elizabeth’s.

She placed her palm gently on the diva’s arm. “Please treat Rory with respect.”

“Are you accusing me of something?”

The woman tugged her arm free at the same time Elizabeth removed her hand. Elizabeth flew backward, knocking into part of the crowd. Coffee rained down.

Another woman grabbed Rory. The brittle sound of tearing material filled Elizabeth’s ears. Glancing at him, she saw his shirtfront was ripped from the pocket to the waist, revealing his bronzed, toned chest.

The noise grew deafening. Women yelled about getting splashed with coffee. Some screamed as they fell to the sidewalk. Others threatened to trample them. Women lunged at Rory.