This Kiss
Debbi Rawlins
Hang on! It's gonna be a wild ride……Champion bull rider Ethan Styles knows he should avoid injury before the National Finals. But riding in Blackfoot Falls' charity rodeo is worth the risk. Inviting a hot little buckle bunny to his room? Also worth it…until she handcuffs him to the bed and tells him she's a bounty hunter!Sophie Michaels had a huge thing for Ethan in high school. The chance to see him again–even if it's to bring him in–is irresistible. Except it's not quite that easy. Until the charity rodeo is over, Sophie is glued to Ethan's side all day…and all night. She knows she should return her fugitive to justice, but once you have a cowboy in your bed, you never want to let him go.
Hang on!
It’s gonna be a wild ride...
Champion bull rider Ethan Styles knows he should avoid injury before the National Finals. But riding in Blackfoot Falls’ charity rodeo is worth the risk. Inviting a hot little buckle bunny to his room? Also worth it...until she handcuffs him to the bed and tells him she’s a bounty hunter!
Sophie Michaels had a huge thing for Ethan in high school. The chance to see him again—even if it’s to bring him in—is irresistible. Except it’s not quite that easy. Until the charity rodeo is over, Sophie is glued to Ethan’s side all day...and all night. She knows she should return her fugitive to justice, but once you have a cowboy in your bed, you never want to let him go.
Dear Reader (#ulink_9f3e9171-e8e8-5a01-9c0a-5411d7bf6704),
I think I’m starting to have a thing for rodeo cowboys. In This Kiss you’ll meet Ethan Styles, a champion bull rider and the third rodeo hero I’ve written for the Made in Montana series.
During late spring and throughout the summer, there are a number of rodeos that take place close to my home. I like most of the events—not so much others, which I’ll refrain from naming though you’ll probably be able to guess from reading this book. But something occurred to me while doing some research, and by that I mean I begin “skimming” one of my rodeo books and forget to put it down. It seems my growing fondness for this true American sport has a lot to do with the cowboys, for whom rodeo is not just a sport or a job but a way of life. These men are a different breed. So much passion and dedication. What’s not to love?
The heroine, Sophie, is a bit younger than most of my heroines, but she is so perfect for Ethan, I couldn’t resist.
I hope everyone is enjoying their summer!
All my best,
This Kiss
Debbi Rawlins
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
DEBBI RAWLINS grew up in the country and loved Western movies and books. Her first crush was on a cowboy—okay, he was an actor in the role of a cowboy, but she was only eleven, so it counts. It was in Houston, Texas, where she first started writing for Harlequin, and now she has her own ranch...of sorts. Instead of horses, she has four dogs, four cats, a trio of goats and free-range cattle on a few acres in gorgeous rural Utah.
Contents
Cover (#u0d98b7b6-98d2-5c30-89fb-936519477e94)
Back Cover Text (#uda33213c-c286-5743-9922-f3585179febe)
Dear Reader (#ub85b6e9a-2b50-53c4-98bb-0e6edf1578b4)
Title Page (#uaacfb16d-e6d6-5f58-aef1-d97a687f4da6)
About the Author (#u7159ad52-04d3-5420-a19f-403e204375a2)
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1 (#ulink_b9bfa461-7b23-5e2a-9aac-ff150dc63b6a)
“GOTCHA!” SOPHIE MICHAELS grinned when she saw the motel’s address on the computer screen. After a quick sip of morning coffee, she sent the file to her partner, Lola, who was sitting in the next office.
The rush from getting her man lasted barely a minute. Sophie sank back in her chair and sighed. Lately, the thrill of success was fleeting and not all that sweet.
Locating the deadbeat dad was rewarding because, well...he had three kids to support. But if he was going to jump bail anyway, couldn’t he have done a better job of covering his tracks? For God’s sake, a fourth grader could’ve found him.
After four years the job was finally getting to her. Too much sitting at the computer. Too much of the same old thing every day. Skip traces, lame excuses, shaken or resigned parents putting up collateral for their wayward children or, almost as frequently, the roles being reversed. Here in Wattsville, Wyoming, nothing much exciting happened. Oh, they had bank robberies occasionally and liquor store holdups, but those types of criminals tended to be really stupid and that made her job boring.
Sophie sighed. Working in the bail bond business wouldn’t be forever. Mostly she’d signed on to help Lola get the company off the ground. Sophie looked on her cousin more like a sister. And Lola didn’t mind that Sophie was sticking around only until she’d figured out what to do with her life.
Rolling her chair away from her dinged-up metal desk, Sophie dropped her chin to her chest and stretched her neck to the side. Feeling the strain of muscles that had been worked too hard earlier at the gym, she tried not to whimper. At least not loud enough for Lola to hear.
The front door to the reception area squeaked open and she glanced at the clock. “Oh, come on,” she muttered. How could it be only eight-fifteen? It felt like noon.
They were expecting Mandy, the third member of their team, to return from Jackson Hole sometime this morning. But in case it was a potential client, Sophie got up. When she heard Hawk’s voice, she promptly sat back down. And wished her door was closed. Hawk was Lola’s sleazy boyfriend of three months. Sophie didn’t like him, but so far she’d kept her mouth shut.
Lola hadn’t had much luck with men in the past, but two people had never been less suited to each other. Hawk wasn’t very bright, was sometimes crude and was under the delusion that riding a Harley and wearing black leather made him a badass.
He was a poser, no doubt in Sophie’s mind. She knew something about desperately pretending to be someone you weren’t just to fit in. A tiny bit of sympathy for him stopped her from telling Lola that his real name was Floyd and he was a high school dropout.
Sophie smiled. The idiot didn’t get that she was really, really good with computers. And she knew a whole lot more about him than she’d let on.
Which she’d keep to herself. Unless Floyd kept pissing her off. She wasn’t the quiet, naive young girl she used to be in high school. Unlike Floyd aka Hawk, she had put a great deal of effort into transforming herself.
“Hey, Shorty,” Hawk said, lounging against her office door frame. “Missed you at the gym this morning.”
She hated the nickname, which he knew. Anyway, five-four wasn’t that short. She gave his tall, lanky body a once-over. “Like you’ve ever seen the inside of a gym.”
He laughed. “Gotta admit, you’re looking pretty buff,” he said, pushing back his straggly hair and eyeing her legs.
“Lola’s in her office.”
“I know. She’s busy.”
“So am I.” Resisting the urge to tug down the hem of her bike shorts, Sophie swiveled in her chair so that her legs were under the desk, her gaze on the monitor.
“You guys working on something big?”
She noticed that line 2 was lit. Lola was on the phone. “Why are you still here?”
“Chillax, Shorty. Just making conversation while I wait for the old lady.”
The front door opened again and Hawk glanced over his shoulder. His look of dread made Sophie smile. It had to be Mandy. She’d been working as a bounty hunter in Colorado before Lola hired her two years ago, and she could be intimidating at times. Plus, she didn’t like Hawk any more than Sophie did. Only, Mandy wasn’t as circumspect.
A whoop came from Lola’s office. “Okay, ladies, we’ve got a live one. Mandy, are you here?”
Sophie leaped out of her chair and barreled past Hawk, who had enough smarts to get out of her way. “Somebody jumped bail?”
“Oh yeah.” Lola walked out of her office waving a piece of paper. “You’ll never guess who.”
The waiting area was small, with two chairs, a ficus that was alive only because Lola remembered to water it and a rack of magazines, where Mandy stood, tall, beefed-up and calm as could be. She wasn’t the excitable type. “Ethan Styles,” she said, and dropped her duffel bag.
Lola shoved back her long red hair and sighed. “How did you know?”
“Ethan Styles,” Sophie murmured under her breath. She must’ve heard wrong. If his name was on the list of bonds they’d posted, she would’ve noticed. She knew him...sort of... “Who did you say?”
Lola’s concerned gaze found Sophie. “I’m pretty sure you remember Ethan.”
“The rodeo guy, right?” Hawk moved to the circle and sidled up to Lola when Sophie and Mandy gave him butt-out glares. “He’s that hotshot bull rider.”
Lola nodded and looked at Mandy. “You just get back from Jackson Hole?”
“An hour ago,” Mandy said with a curious glance at Sophie. “I turned Jergens over to Deputy Martin.”
Sophie couldn’t seem to slow down her brain. Too many memories of Ethan revolved like a slide show on speed. She hadn’t seen him up close since high school. She’d gone to a few rodeos just to see him, but only from the bleachers and it had been a while. Sometimes she watched him on TV, but not often. She wasn’t a kid anymore and there was only so much daydreaming a woman could do without feeling like a dope.
“You get any sleep yet?” Lola asked Mandy, who just smiled.
“I hate to send you out again, but I got a tip that Styles might be headed for northwest Montana. A town called Blackfoot Falls.”
“No shit. Pretty boy has an outstanding warrant?” Hawk laughed. “What did he get locked up for? Screwing somebody’s wife?”
The expression on Lola’s face hinted that Hawk might not be far off the mark.
It wouldn’t surprise Sophie if he was in trouble because of a woman. Half the girls in school had had the hots for him. Even now he left female fans across the country panting, but so what? Lola was mistaken if she thought Ethan’s reputation with the ladies bothered Sophie. He didn’t faze her. Not anymore.
“Why didn’t he pay his own bail? Between his winnings and endorsement deals, he has to have money,” Sophie said, mostly thinking out loud.
Lola shrugged. “He wouldn’t be the first pro athlete to blow his cash on stupid things,” she said. “We have the pink slip for his motor coach as collateral, so I had no problem with posting. I have to say, though, I’m surprised he skipped. He’s not due in court until Monday, but he wasn’t supposed to leave the state.”
“I’ll do it.” Sophie squared her shoulders when they all stared at her. “I’ll go after him.”
Lola shook her head. “Not a good idea, Soph.”
“You’ve never worked in the field.” Mandy’s quiet reminder somehow felt like a betrayal.
Even though Sophie had started kickboxing and tae kwon do back in college, it was Mandy who’d inspired her to go all out, work her body to its full potential. Sophie was in the best physical shape of her life and Mandy knew it. Anyway, Ethan might not come along willingly, but he wasn’t the type to get rough.
“I told you guys I wanted to be more involved.” She glared first at Lola, and then Mandy. “I know Ethan. I can bring him back with the least amount of fuss.”
Hawk snorted. “No way. You don’t know Styles.”
“Shut up,” Mandy said without looking at him. Her gaze stayed on Sophie. “You think you’re ready?”
“I know I am.” She glanced at Lola, who’d just given Hawk an impatient look. So maybe all wasn’t peachy keen with the lovebirds. Good. Her cousin deserved better.
Lola met her gaze. “No, not Ethan. You can have the next one.”
“I’m not asking for permission. I own half this company.” Flexing her tense shoulders, Sophie ignored the looks of surprise. She and Lola never argued. Not over business, or their personal lives. “Text me the details. I’ll go home, grab a few things and leave within the hour.”
“Come on, Soph.” Lola pinched the bridge of her nose. “Let’s talk privately. Please.”
“What she says makes sense.” Hawk cut Lola short, earning him a warning look, which he obviously didn’t like judging by his creepy scowl. “Why not let her go after him?”
“Excuse me—” Sophie stopped. Hawk was defending her? Okay, now, that was weird. She didn’t need his help, but hey, bonus points for trying. “This isn’t up for discussion,” she said. “All we’re doing is wasting time.”
“Knowing him might not be an advantage,” Mandy said. “Surprise is your best weapon. He sees you, he could run.”
“Ethan won’t remember me.” Sophie avoided Lola’s gaze. “Even if he does, he won’t associate me with Lola’s Bail Bonds.”
Lola followed Sophie into her office. “We need to talk, kiddo,” she said, closing the door behind her.
“You’re not changing my mind.” Sophie sifted through her cluttered drawer and found her wallet. Now, where were her keys?
She crouched to check under her desk and found them next to a protein bar she’d misplaced yesterday. Grabbing them both, she pushed to her feet.
“Will you at least hear me out?” Her cousin’s dark eyes weren’t just worried but annoyed.
“Go ahead.” Sophie unwrapped the bar and stuck half of it in her mouth, since she wouldn’t have time to eat anything else. She had to get on the road fast. No telling how much of a head start Ethan had... “When did he leave for Montana, do you know?”
“Are you going to listen to me at all?”
“Probably not.”
“Goddammit, Sophie.” Lola paused and lowered her voice. “We can’t afford for you to get all goo-goo-eyed over him. He’ll sweet-talk you into letting him go and we’ll be screwed.”
Sophie chewed a bit, then said, “Wow, your faith in me is really touching.”
“It’s not that. The money’s important, but I hate to think of you getting all twisted up over him again.”
“Oh, for God’s sake, I was never twisted up.”
“Yes, you were.” Lola smiled. “Don’t forget, I was there. Anyway, that was high school, so you were allowed.”
“Exactly. It was high school. I was fifteen. We had a fleeting encounter. Don’t make a big deal out of it.”
“He was your hero,” Lola said, her voice softening.
Sophie turned away to pick up her gym bag. “You’re only twenty-eight. I’m sure you still remember what it was like to be fifteen.”
At the beginning of her freshman year, Sophie and her mom had moved to Wyoming. Lola had been a junior and the only person Sophie knew in her new school. They hadn’t become friends quickly. Her cousin had had her own clique, and back then, Sophie had entered a nerdy phase, trying to balance her high IQ and an awkward social life.
That alone hadn’t made her the target of bullies. Having had the audacity to wear the wrong dress was the line she’d crossed. She found out later that the most popular girl in school had worn the same sundress the week before Sophie even started at Wattsville High. The whole thing was ridiculous, considering that Ashley had huge boobs and Sophie had little more than two mosquito bites. So of course Ashley had looked so much better in the spaghetti-strap dress.
God, Sophie still remembered what it had felt like to have those girls come after her with scissors. They’d cut her dress to ribbons before Ethan had stopped them and put his jacket over her shoulders.
Turned out Ashley was Ethan’s girlfriend. But he’d been furious when he stepped in and warned them off. After that, the girls still gave her evil looks, but they kept their distance.
Damn straight he’d been her hero.
“Are you still following his career?” Lola asked.
“No.” Sophie set the gym bag on her chair and shut down her laptop, refusing to look up. “I know you saw me at my worst, sneaking around, following him, trying to stay on his radar. Frankly it embarrasses me to even think about it.” All while he’d acted as if she hadn’t existed. That part she left out, and met Lola’s gaze. “Did you and Hawk have a fight?”
Lola’s brows went up. “Why?”
“I saw the look you gave him.”
“No, it’s just...” Lola waved dismissively. “I’d already told him he shouldn’t be hanging around here.”
Sophie tucked her tablet under her arm. “Look, the thing with Ethan happened a long time ago. I was a kid.” She smiled. “I can do this.”
Lola studied her for a moment. “Okay,” she said with a resigned sigh. “I just don’t understand why you’d want to.”
“I know,” Sophie said softly. She didn’t quite get it herself. It wasn’t as if she needed closure, but in a weird way, that was exactly how it felt. She stopped halfway to the door. “Don’t you think it’s odd he jumped bail? Ethan has a reputation for being a stand-up guy.”
“I don’t know what he’s thinking. He certainly doesn’t have a low profile.”
“Nope. The National Finals Rodeo in Las Vegas starts in about a week. He’s going for his second championship title—” She saw the concern in Lola’s eyes. “I read something about it online the other day,” she murmured. “Try not to worry, okay? I’ve got this.”
She hoped.
* * *
THE WATERING HOLE was noisy, crowded with cowboys drinking beer and gorgeous accommodating women dressed to kill. Ethan Styles had frequented hundreds of bars just like this one in the nine years since he turned pro. He knew what it was like the night before a rodeo, especially in a small town like Blackfoot Falls. So why in the hell had he suggested meeting his friend Matt here?
Somehow Ethan had gotten the dumb idea that this rodeo would be different. No prize money was involved or qualifying points. The event was a fund-raiser for Safe Haven, a large animal sanctuary, so all the ticket and concession money went directly to them. But he should’ve known better. Rodeo fans were a loyal bunch, and having to travel to this remote Montana town obviously hadn’t bothered them.
Normally he was up for signing autographs and getting hit on by hot women. But with the finals a week away he’d been on edge since he hit Montana late this morning. After that bogus arrest in Wyoming and then hearing how fellow bull rider Tommy Lunt had busted his knee, foreboding had prickled the back of his neck.
He’d missed the finals himself because of injuries. Twice. Last year broken ribs and a punctured lung had sidelined him. Two seasons before that, it had been an elbow injury. So he had cause to be jumpy.
“Hey, Styles, ’bout time you showed up.” Kenny Horton stood at the bar with another bronc rider and three women, who all turned to eyeball Ethan.
He shook his head when Kenny motioned for him to join them. “Maybe later. I’m meeting someone.”
“Right behind you.”
At the sound of Matt Gunderson’s voice, Ethan grinned and turned around to shake his hand. “Glad to see you, buddy.”
“Same here. What’s it been...a year?”
“About that.” Ethan moved aside for a short, curvy blonde who’d just entered the bar. Their gazes met briefly, surprise flickering in her brown eyes. But then she brushed past him. “So, how’s retirement?” he asked Matt and shifted so he could watch the blonde walk up to the bar.
The seats were all taken. A cowboy jumped to his feet and offered her his stool. Shaking her head, she dug into her pocket. Her tight jeans didn’t leave room for much, but she managed to pull out a cell phone. She wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. He always checked, though it hadn’t done him any good last week.
Wendy hadn’t been wearing one when he met her at the Ponderosa Saloon last Saturday, or when she invited him to her ranch that night. That hadn’t made her any less married, and to a mean, rich son of a bitch on top of everything.
“Retirement? Shit, I work twice as hard for half the money,” Matt said with a laugh. “But yeah, it was time.”
That part Ethan didn’t understand. Matt had been the one to beat. Yet out of the blue he’d just quit competing. Talk around the tour was that his new wife might’ve had something to do with it. “So, no regrets?”
“Not a one.” Matt frowned. “You can’t be thinking of getting out—”
“Hell no. Now that you’re off the circuit, maybe I can finally win another title.”
“Right.” Matt laughed. “I seem to remember you leaving me in the dust more than a few times.”
“Never when it counted.”
“Man, you’ve had some bad luck right before the finals. I should’ve convinced you to drop out when we changed the date. You’re the main draw this weekend. A lot of people are coming to see you ride Twister, but I should’ve thought this through.”
“Come on, you probably figured I wouldn’t make it to the finals.”
Matt reared his head back, eyes narrowed. “What the hell’s the matter with you, Styles?”
Ethan grinned. “Just joking.” No way he’d admit that he had considered bailing because he couldn’t risk injury. But then he’d only be superstitious about bad karma or some other bullshit. “It’s a worthy cause. I’m glad to do it.”
Just before Ethan turned to check on the blonde, he caught his friend’s sympathetic look. Most rodeo cowboys started young and came from families of die-hard fans. Matt had been a casual fan who’d climbed onto his first bull at a late age, and yet he understood the pressure coming at Ethan from all sides. Winning another gold buckle wasn’t just about ego or satisfying a lifelong dream. He came from rodeo royalty. Both his parents held multiple world champion titles. Most of their fans were also his fans. A lot of expectations drove him to succeed.
The woman was still standing at the bar, guys on either side of her vying for her attention, but she didn’t seem interested. She slowly sipped a drink, checked her phone and then leaned over the bar to talk to the older woman filling pitchers of beer.
Ethan smirked to himself. Bending over like that sure wouldn’t discourage guys from hitting on her. She knew how to wear a pair of plain faded jeans. Her boots were brown, low-heeled, scuffed. And the long-sleeve blue T-shirt was nothing fancy. No, she sure wasn’t dressed to be noticed like the other women circling the room. Maybe she lived on a nearby ranch and had just quit work.
Damn, she was hot.
And familiar. Yeah, women were plentiful for a bull rider, and he was no saint. He also wasn’t the type to forget a name or face. It sure felt as though he’d run into her before. More than that, he felt this odd pull... The kind of pull that could get him into trouble. Which he did not need, especially not now.
Someone called out to Matt and he waved in acknowledgment. “We’re not gonna find a table or a place at the bar. Maybe we should head over to the diner. Unless you’re looking to hook up with that blonde.”
“What blonde?” Ethan asked, and Matt smiled. “That describes half the women in here.”
“I’m talking about the one at the bar you’ve been eyeing.”
“Nah, I’m not looking for company. I’m keeping my nose clean until the finals.”
“A whole week? You’ll never make it.”
“Probably not.” Ethan laughed and glanced back at the bar. “Is she local?”
Matt studied her for a moment. “I don’t think so.”
“Well, I’ll be damned if it isn’t the twins,” a voice boomed from the back room.
Ethan and Matt exchanged glances. They both knew it was Tex, a bronc rider from Dallas. Though he wasn’t the only one who called them the twins. They’d joined the pro tour within months of each other, and in the beginning they’d often been mistaken for brothers. Ethan figured it wasn’t so much because they shared similar builds, or even because they both had light brown hair and blue eyes. It was their height. Six feet was tall for a bull rider.
“What are you boys doing standing there talking like two old women?” Tex yelled, a pool stick in one hand, an empty mug in the other. “Grab yourselves a pitcher and get on back here.”
“Guess he’s had a few,” Ethan said. Tex was quiet by nature. But after a couple of beers...
“He’d better be able to ride tomorrow,” Matt muttered, then turned when someone else shouted his name.
More people had poured into the bar. Ethan was willing to bet the place had reached capacity before the last ten customers had squeezed inside. And now that big-mouthed Tex had called attention to them, fans were approaching him and Matt for autographs.
They each accepted a pen and began scrawling their names. “You check in at The Boarding House yet?” Matt asked under his breath.
“An hour ago.”
“It’s not too late. You can stay out at the Lone Wolf. We’ve got a big house, trailer hookups. The inn’s overbooked, so the owner won’t have any trouble renting out your room. And my wife’s dying to meet you.”
“Hey, that’s right. You’re a married man now. Sorry I missed your wedding.”
“No problem. I warned Rachel there’d be conflicts no matter which weekend she chose.”
Ethan smiled as he passed the Safe Haven flyer he’d just signed to a middle-aged woman wearing a promotional Professional Bull Riders T-shirt from the 2010 finals, the year he wanted wiped from his memory forever. To be kept from the finals because of an injury was one thing, but to make it that far and then get hurt in the third round? Talk about fate landing a sucker punch.
This year nothing was going to keep him from the finals. Or from winning another gold buckle.
Nothing. Period.
2 (#ulink_8dd6f817-253d-5a22-95bd-d50f3dca7818)
SOPHIE SURE WISHED she’d known he was here in Blackfoot Falls for a rodeo before she’d left Wyoming. The event was a fund-raiser, so of course it wasn’t listed on the PBR tour. The whole town, which wasn’t saying much, since it was so small they had no traffic lights, was busting at the seams with rodeo fans. There was only one inn, a dude ranch twenty minutes away and a number of impromptu bed-and-breakfasts scattered around the area, all of which were booked. So was the large trailer park over thirty minutes away, not that a vacancy there would do her any good.
Somehow she had to get him alone. No clue how she was going to do it with so many fans clamoring for his attention. Those crazy people would string her up if they knew she planned to drag their favorite bull rider back to Wyoming.
The buckle bunnies worried her the most. Turning completely around so that her back was against the bar, she sipped her tonic water and watched the women practically line up, just waiting their turns to hit on Ethan.
She didn’t care one bit. If he had enough stamina to screw every last one of them, then God bless him. She was twenty-six, not a silly teenager anymore, and he no longer haunted her dreams. Though if he took one of those eager young ladies back to his room for the night, Sophie could have a problem.
It might mean she’d have to wait till morning to bag him. That left her a very narrow window before the rodeo started at noon.
Maybe she’d have to seduce him herself.
The thought sent a bolt of heat zinging through her body. A hurried sip of tonic water barely made it down her throat. He was still hot as hell. She’d be fooling herself if she couldn’t admit that much. Tall and lean with the perfect proportion of muscle, and those dreamy blue eyes... Good Lord.
Bumping into him when she first entered the bar had thrown her. She hadn’t been prepared at all. But the wig had done its job. Even up close he hadn’t recognized her, and now she was ready for him.
In the middle of signing an autograph, he swung a look at her and she shifted her weight to her other foot. Okay, maybe his gaze hadn’t landed on her but vaguely in her direction. Unfortunately her female parts couldn’t tell the difference.
Seducing him? That might have to take a few steps back to plan Z.
“Now, why are you sittin’ here drinkin’ alone, darlin’?” The same husky and very tipsy cowboy who’d offered her a beer earlier wove too close, nearly unseating the guy on her left.
She steadied Romeo with a brief hand on his shoulder. Boy, she sure didn’t need either of the men making a scene. “Are you here for the rodeo tomorrow?” she asked.
“You bet.”
“Fan or rider?”
He frowned, clearly affronted.
Sophie smiled, despite the wave of beer breath that reached her. “Better go easy on the booze if you’re competing.”
The younger cowboy sitting on the stool twisted around and grinned. “Yeah, Brady, you don’t wanna give those calves a leg up.”
Ah, they knew each other. Made sense, since they were both probably here for the rodeo. Sophie relaxed a bit, and while the two men traded barbs, she slid a glance at Ethan, who was still surrounded by women.
Oddly he didn’t seem all that interested in any of them. Not even the blondes. According to the articles and blogs she’d read earlier, his past three girlfriends had been blondes. Although it seemed he hadn’t stayed with any of them for more than a few months. Probably thought he was too hot for any one woman to handle. Or decided it was his duty to spread the hotness around.
The cowboy, whose name was apparently Brady and who continued to stand too close, said something she didn’t catch. Shifting her attention to him, she wondered if a well-placed knee could seem accidental. “Excuse me?”
He turned his head to look at Ethan. “Okay, now I see why you’re being so uppity. You’ve already got your sights set on Styles. Figures.” Lifting his beer, he mumbled, “Damn bull riders,” before taking a gulp.
Oh, crap. Was she being that obvious? “Who’s Styles?”
Brady frowned. “Are you kiddin’?”
She shook her head, the picture of innocence.
“See, Brady?” Grinning, the other cowboy elbowed him. “She’s not snubbing you ’cause you’re a calf roper. I bet she’s got a whole lot more reasons than that.”
Sophie ignored the troublemaker. “A calf roper?”
“That’s right, darlin’. You’re lookin’ at a two-time champ.”
“So you’re one of those guys who chases the poor little calves and then ties them up?”
Brady’s boastful grin slipped. “It’s all for sport, darlin’, don’t you understand?”
“No, I don’t. Not at all.” She faked a shudder. “I always feel so sorry for the calves.”
Even the guy sitting on the stool had shut up and swiveled around to face the other way. Brady just stared at her, then shook his head and walked off.
Sophie hid a smile behind a sip of tonic and turned back to Ethan. He was watching her. This time there was nothing vague about it. He gave her a slow smile and a small nod. She had no idea what that was supposed to mean. Other than she might need something stronger than tonic water.
Her nipples had tightened, and thank God the room was dim, because her entire body blushed. He couldn’t have overheard her taunting Brady, not from over twenty feet away and with all the noisy laughter competing with the jukebox. And no way did Ethan recognize her.
He’d been a senior the year she started at Wattsville High, so he hadn’t seen her in eleven years. She doubted he’d recognized her even once since the day he rescued her. How many times had she taken great pains to be in the perfect spot, like the cafeteria or near the boys’ locker room so he couldn’t miss her? Yet he did, and with unflattering consistency.
A fan stuck a piece of paper in his face and only then did he look away from her. Her heart hadn’t stopped pounding.
“Sophie?”
She jumped so hard she nearly knocked over the waitress’s loaded tray.
The woman moved back. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. Sophie, right?”
What the hell? No one here knew her. She nodded.
“Sadie asked me to give you this,” she said, inclining her head at the bartender and passing Sophie a piece of paper. “It’s a name and phone number. She said you’re looking for a place to stay tonight?”
Ah. Sophie smiled. “Yes,” she said, accepting the paper. “Thank you.”
“It’s a long shot. The Meyers have probably rented out their spare rooms by now. But Kalispell is only a forty-five-minute drive from here.” The waitress was already pushing through the crowd. “Good luck.”
Sophie sighed. She thought she was so smart, but she stank at this covert stuff. Using her real name had been a stupid rookie move. No matter how doubtful it was that Ethan remembered her.
She studied the scribbled phone number, then glanced at Ethan. Fortunately he was too busy being mobbed to pay her any more attention. Both he and the man with him gave her the impression they’d bolt as soon as possible. She’d be a fool to let Ethan out of her sight, but it was too noisy to make a call in the bar. She’d have to step outside and just stay close to the door.
If she were to find a room, she’d be shocked. But she had to at least try in case she was forced to stay till morning. Or, God forbid, until after the rodeo was over in two days.
It would be so much easier to grab him tonight and leave Blackfoot Falls pronto. She didn’t need his buddies interfering, because if they did, what could she do, really? And returning to Wyoming empty-handed wasn’t an option.
She thought back to her earlier idea. Coaxing him to ask her to his room might be her best bet. But not if she couldn’t get the damn jitters under control. Who was she kidding, anyway? There were several gorgeous women waiting for him to say the word. The only guy she’d attracted was one who roped and tied baby cows.
Hoping her half-full glass of tonic would hold her spot at the bar, she squeezed her way toward the door. The standing crowd was truly ridiculous, oblivious of anyone trying to pass, and forcing her in Ethan’s direction.
“Boy howdy, was I shocked to hear you’d be riding this weekend, Ethan! Aren’t you afraid of getting injured and missing the finals again?”
Sophie stopped. She turned and saw Ethan tighten his jaw. The people closest to him grew quiet and watchful.
The stout, ruddy-faced fan who’d asked the moronic question continued heedlessly. “I told the wife I figured you’d be too superstitious to take the chance, especially for no prize money.”
“It’s for a good cause,” Ethan said quietly.
“Don’t get me wrong, son. I’m glad you’re here. I’m looking forward to seeing you ride tomorrow.” The man rubbed his palms together, ignoring the blushing woman tugging at his arm. “I understand Matt Gunderson has raised some hard-bucking bulls.”
“Yep. I heard the same thing.” Ethan’s jaw clenched again, then he smiled and moved back a little. “I sure hope all you folks are generous to Safe Haven. They take in a lot of animals who otherwise wouldn’t have a chance of surviving. Any donation you’d like to add to the price of the ticket would be appreciated.”
Unable to listen anymore, she shouldered her way to the door. No, she told herself. Uh-uh. She could not, and would not, feel sympathy for Ethan. As he’d said, Safe Haven was a good cause. He’d volunteered to ride. Great. Good for him. He wasn’t letting superstition spook him. That didn’t mean she wouldn’t drag his ass back to Wyoming. He’d broken the condition of his bail by taking off. And clearly he didn’t care at all about screwing her and Lola out of the money they’d posted for his bond. Sure, they had his motor coach as collateral. But until they could sell it, they were on the hook for a lot of cash.
Finally she made it outside. The biting cold November air nipped at her heated cheeks. She drew in a deep breath and immediately started coughing from all the cigarette smoke.
She turned to go the other way. Great. Smokers overran the sidewalk. She refused to stray too far from the door in case Ethan left, so she ducked behind a silver truck. No doubt he was anxious to get away from the stupid questions. And who could blame him?
The lighting was poor. She dug out her phone but could barely make out the number on the crumpled paper. Using the Bic app on her cell to see, she memorized the seven digits, then called. And promptly got the no she’d expected. Disconnecting, she sighed.
“No luck, huh?”
Sophie knew that voice. She slanted a look at Ethan, who stood on the sidewalk, his hands stuffed in his jeans pockets.
He wore a tan Western-style shirt, no jacket. His broad shoulders were hunched slightly, against the cold, she imagined.
“You must have me mixed up with someone else,” she said, reminding herself to breathe. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”
“No?” He studied her a beat longer than she could manage to keep still. Thankfully he stepped back when she slipped between him and the truck to return to the sidewalk. “I thought maybe we had,” he said, shrugging.
She shook her head, held her breath. “Nope.”
Jeez. Of course he didn’t recognize her. Or really think they’d met before. It was a pickup line guys used all the time.
“You’re looking for a place to stay tonight,” he said. “Aren’t you?”
That stopped her again. “How do you know that?”
“The waitress.” His intense stare wasn’t helping her nerves, so she moved into the shadows. “I asked her.”
Sophie huffed a laugh. “And of course she told you, because...” She closed her mouth. Because of that damn sexy smile of his, that was why, but this was what Sophie wanted, to get him alone, so she’d better lose the attitude.
“Because she’s my buddy Matt’s sister-in-law,” he said, and glanced over his shoulder when the door opened and raucous laughter spilled out into the moonlit night. “Hey, how about we go someplace else? Get away from the bar.”
“Sure.” She tried not to seem too eager. Or irritated. Picking up a woman was this easy for a guy like Ethan. Just a look, a smile, and he was all set. She moved closer to him. The Boarding House Inn, where she knew he was staying, was within walking distance. “What did you have in mind?”
He looked both ways down Main Street. “How about the diner? Shouldn’t be too crowded.”
“The diner?”
“Is that all right? We can cross after this next truck.”
“Um, sure. I guess.”
Glancing at her, he asked, “You have somewhere else in mind?”
A diner? Okay, she was officially insulted. “I was thinking someplace more private,” she whispered, linking arms with him.
Surprise flashed across his face. His eyes found hers, then he lowered his gaze to her lips. “I’m Ethan.”
“I know who you are.”
“And you’re Sophie?”
So stupid. She nodded, promising herself that after this, she’d stick to her desk job. At least her name hadn’t triggered his memory. If he were to remember anything, it would probably be the pesky twerp who’d kept popping up in the weirdest places half his senior year.
The door to the bar opened again and they both turned. A tall brunette and her blonde sidekick walked out, scanning the groups of smokers.
The moment their gazes lit on Ethan, he tensed. “Let’s go,” he said, and draped his arm across the back of her shoulders. “Mind walking? It’s not far.”
“Fine.” She huddled close, soaking in the warmth of his body and trying to decide if it would be too much to slide her arm around his waist.
He walked at a fast clip, and with her shorter legs she had some trouble keeping up. “Sorry,” he said. “I’ll slow down.”
She saw her green Jeep parked at the curb just ahead, and two things flashed through her mind. She needed the handcuffs she’d left in her glove compartment, but she couldn’t stop for them because of her Wyoming plates. If he knew the Jeep was hers, he could easily put two and two together.
“Cold?” he asked, pulling her closer.
“What?” She realized she’d tensed. “A little.” Checking random plates, she saw a variety of out-of-state vehicles from Colorado, Utah, even an SUV from Wyoming. It was worth taking the chance. She really, really needed the cuffs. “Could we stop a minute?”
Ethan frowned and glanced back at the Watering Hole. “Am I still walking too fast?”
“No. We just passed my car and I wanted to grab my jacket.”
He started to follow her, but she shook her head while inching backward and digging for the key in her pocket.
“It’s kind of a mess,” she said, relieved that he only smiled and stayed put.
She unlocked the driver’s door. And kept an eye on him while she quickly transferred the handcuffs from the glove box to a deep pocket in the puffy down jacket she’d left on the passenger seat. Pausing, she considered scooping up her purse hidden on the floorboard.
Couldn’t hurt. She probably could use some lip gloss about now. Jeez. This is not a date.
The door was closed and locked, her purse in hand before she considered the incriminating ID and bail piece authorizing her to arrest him inside her bag. It didn’t matter, since she was going to do this thing quickly. Preferably the minute they were inside his room.
Instead of continuing to walk when she rejoined him, he studied her car. “I’ve always liked Jeeps. Looks new. Have you had it long?”
“I bought it last year.” She drew in a breath. He was staring at her plates.
“You from Wyoming?”
“Not originally, but I’ve lived there for a few years now.”
“What part?”
“Sheridan,” she lied, purposely choosing the farthest town from Wattsville that she could think of.
“I’m from outside Casper myself.” Either he was a very good actor or the Wyoming coincidence didn’t bother him.
“Really? We’re not exactly neighbors, but still...”
“Here, let me help you with your jacket.”
Sophie thought she heard the handcuffs clink and clutched the jacket to her chest. Giving him a come-hither smile, she said, “I’d rather have your arm around me.”
“Always happy to oblige a beautiful woman.” Ethan took her free hand and drew her close. The jacket served as an unwanted buffer. “You aren’t a rodeo fan, are you, Sophie?”
“Um, a little...”
He smiled. “It’s okay. My ego isn’t that fragile.”
“I know who you are. That should count for something.”
His puzzled frown sent up a warning flag. It lasted only a moment before the smile returned, and he started them walking again. “So you aren’t here for the rodeo.”
“No.” Wrong answer. She wasn’t sure why, but it felt wrong. She was missing something. “Well, yes, sort of. Does it matter?”
“I suppose not.” He checked for traffic and guided her across the street, his arm tightening around her shoulders.
The Boarding House Inn was just up ahead. They had another half a block to go and she hoped the men standing on the porch steps deep in conversation would hurry up and leave. If she did her job well, by tomorrow morning it would appear that Ethan Styles had disappeared into thin air. And she preferred not to be identified as the last person seen with him.
That was where the wig came in handy. As a blonde, she barely recognized herself.
Luckily the porch cleared just as they approached. The silence that had fallen between her and Ethan was beginning to feel awkward. She slanted him a glance and caught him watching her. The porch light shone in both of their faces and he stopped, right there, several feet from the steps. Turning to face her, he nudged up her chin and studied her mouth.
She held her breath, certain he was about to kiss her.
“I have one question,” he said. “Are you a reporter?”
“What? No.”
Something in her expression must have made him doubt her. His gaze narrowed, he seemed to be trying hard to remember...
“Why on earth would you think I’m a reporter?” It hit her then that everything would have been so much easier if she’d just pretended to be one of his buckle bunny fans. The wariness in his face convinced her to fix that situation right now.
“Okay, I lied,” she blurted, the words rushing out of her mouth before she could think. “I’m a huge rodeo fan. The biggest. I go to rodeos all the time. I’m a buckle bunny. I didn’t want to admit it and I—” She cleared her throat. “I wanted to stand out to get your attention, and that’s why I lied. About not being a fan.” She held in a sigh. “Does that make sense?”
Ethan looked as if he was going to laugh.
So she threw her arms around his neck and pulled him down into a blazing kiss.
3 (#ulink_d59773f4-28e7-5ac2-97ef-445bf026bf20)
ETHAN RECOVERED FROM her sudden burst of enthusiasm, thankful he hadn’t landed on his ass. Sophie was small but strong, too. Strong enough that she’d forced him back a step. He put his arms around her and slowed down the kiss, taking the time to explore and sample the sweet taste of her mouth.
They were standing on the porch, under the light, in full view of Main Street where anyone passing the inn could see them. That didn’t bother him. He just couldn’t figure out what had caused her unexpected display of passion.
Way before he was finished with the kiss she stepped back, only to stare up at him with dazed eyes, and was that regret? Probably not. He wasn’t seeing so clearly himself.
Damn, he should’ve moved them to his room before now. “How about we go inside where it’s warm?” he asked.
She jerked a nod, clutched the jacket to her chest and inched farther away from him, as if she was afraid he was going to grab her.
Wondering if she’d ever picked up a guy before, Ethan was careful to give her some space. More practiced women who followed the circuit had a completely different air about them. He opened the door and motioned for her to go inside. The lobby was tiny, furnished with a desk and two wing chairs, a small oak table on which rolls and coffee would be set out in the morning, or so he’d been told.
“Turn right,” he said, and she did so without a word or a backward glance. “I’m near the end.”
He watched her as she led the way, admiring the view. Sophie claimed they’d never met, but he wasn’t so sure that was true. Once he’d seen her up close, he was even more convinced they’d met before. The shape of her pouty lips had given him the first inkling that he knew her from somewhere. Even now, watching the slight sway of her hips tugged at his memory. It wasn’t a particularly distinctive walk, so he didn’t get it.
Hell, he could’ve seen her in the crowd at a rodeo. She’d admitted she was a fan. But that didn’t feel right, either. If it turned out she’d lied and really was a reporter, man, he was going to be pissed. So far he’d been lucky. The public didn’t know about his arrest. But one more media question about the black cloud that seemed to follow him to the finals every year and he’d shut them all out. No more interviews. No more sound bites. Screw ’em.
Sophie stopped to examine the baseboards and then looked up at the ceiling. “I think this place really was a boardinghouse at one time.”
“Yep,” Ethan said, glad she seemed more relaxed. “It was built around the 1920s. The new owner bought the place last year and kept the renovations as close to the original structure as possible. She even tried to replicate the detail in the moldings.”
Sophie grinned at him. “I like that you know all that stuff.”
With a laugh, he pulled the key out of his pocket. “It was on the website.”
“The halls are awfully narrow. Men couldn’t have had very broad shoulders back in the twenties...” Her voice trailed off, her gaze flickering away from his chest.
“Two doors down,” he said, staying right where he was, waiting for her to start walking again so he wouldn’t crowd her.
He had to decide what to tell her. That kiss kind of ruined his plan. He hadn’t actually been hitting on her. Blackfoot Falls was small, and with all the fans in town, he’d been rethinking Matt’s offer to stay at his ranch. Ethan knew some of the guys had parked their motor coaches there instead of at the RV park outside of Kalispell.
Still, it would be quiet out there. He could help Sophie out by giving her his room. And staying at Matt’s meant less chance for Ethan to get in any trouble.
He stuck the key in the lock and glanced at Sophie. With those soft brown eyes and that generous mouth, she looked like big trouble to him, tasted like it, too.
Who was he kidding? If he’d really wanted to just give her his room, he would have said something when they were outside. By her Jeep. Now, though, it would be awkward as hell to pack up and leave. He pushed the door open and she went right on inside.
After glancing around at the antique chair and the old armoire, she focused on the queen-size four-poster bed that took up most of the small room. She moved closer to it, stopping a moment to check out the patchwork quilt, and then ran her hand down the oak post close to the wall.
His cock pulsed.
When she wrapped her fingers around the smooth wood and stroked up, Ethan had to turn away. Yeah, he needed to erase that image real fast.
Between her obvious interest in the bed and his dick’s growing interest in her, he decided it was time to offer the room as he’d intended, even if it would make him look like an ass.
“It’s nice,” she said, smiling, walking close enough he could inhale her sweet scent. “Quaint. Too bad the furniture is so small. I bet you can’t even sit on the chair.”
She laid her jacket over the back of it, sat on the edge and pulled off a boot.
And there went his last good intention. Ethan sighed. If even her red-striped sock turned him on, he wasn’t going anywhere. She was already here. He was here. They were consenting adults. So he couldn’t see a reason to deny himself a little recreation before heading to the Lone Wolf. Matt had left the invitation open.
“Need help with your boots?” she asked, mesmerizing him with those eyes the color of melted chocolate.
He pulled both his boots off before she’d finished removing her second one. “Tell me you’re over twenty-one,” he said, straightening and pausing at the first snap on his shirt.
Sophie laughed. “Are you serious? I don’t look that young.”
“I just like to be sure.”
“Well, you can relax. I’m twenty-six. Anyway, I think the age of consent is sixteen in Montana.”
The same as in Wyoming, not that he paid it any mind. Twenty-one was his personal cutoff.
Getting to her feet, she pulled her shirt from her jeans, then stopped and frowned. “Is something wrong?”
His snaps were still intact. “I have one last question.”
“Okay,” she said, taking a step closer, her sultry smile designed to scramble his brain.
“Are you married?”
Her eyebrows arched and her lips parted. She looked startled, and maybe confused. “No. Of course not.” She shook her head, her eyebrows lowering into a delicate frown. “No, I’m not married, nor have I ever been married.” She drew in a breath, seemed to calm herself and took over unsnapping his shirt. “Would it really matter?”
“If you have to ask, damn good thing you’re still single.” He could see he’d irritated her. Too bad. He wasn’t about to get into another scrape like the mess he’d narrowly escaped in Wyoming. After discovering Wendy was married, he’d refused to sleep with her. To get back at him, she’d filed a false charge that he’d stolen some jewelry.
Sophie looked torn for a moment and then unfastened his next snap.
He caught her hand and inspected her ring finger. No mark, not even a faded one. “Sorry, but I’m touchy about the issue,” he said, staring into her wary eyes and lifting her hand to his lips for a brief kiss before releasing her. “It’s nothing personal.”
Without another word, she finished unsnapping him, her eyes cast downward, until she parted the front of his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders. Her preoccupation with his bare chest was flattering but somewhat awkward. He finished shrugging out of the shirt, impatient to see what was under hers.
Uncertainty betrayed itself in the soft, hesitant palms she skimmed over his ribs and then his pecs. Her touch was almost reverent, her expression dreamlike. A few buckle bunnies he’d been with had tried to use their phones to sneak pictures of him shirtless, and even buck naked. But this was different. This seemed more...personal.
Jesus, he hoped it didn’t turn out she was one of those crazy stalkers.
He captured her hands and gently lowered them from his chest. When he tried to draw up her T-shirt, she tensed, angling in a way that cut him off.
He took half a step back. “You change your mind?” he asked, keeping his tone low and even, letting her know it was all good. She was allowed.
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I haven’t.”
He tipped her chin up so he could see her face. “It’s okay if you have. Tell me to stop and I will.”
Sighing, she pulled off her own shirt and tossed it somewhere over her shoulder. He was too busy taking in the pink bra and creamy skin to see where it landed. Her breasts were the perfect size. They’d fit nicely in his hands. Her arms and shoulders were well toned, and her abs...a woman didn’t get that kind of definition from casual exercise. Sophie took her workouts seriously. But she hadn’t gone overboard, either, which he greatly appreciated.
He drew his thumb across the silky skin mounding above her bra. She had no freckles, just the faint remnant of a summer tan.
Damned if he wasn’t the one staring now.
She shivered and shrank back.
“You’re beautiful,” he said, and looked up to meet eyes filled with disbelief. “I’m sure you get that line a lot, but I mean it.”
She let out a short laugh and went for his belt buckle. He wished she wasn’t so nervous. But if he brought it up, it would probably spook her into leaving.
Would that be the right thing to do?
Her frenzied movements confused him. It was as if she was racing the clock. Or...maybe she had someplace else she needed to be. Dammit, he couldn’t figure her out. Although once they were in bed, he could slow things down. Make her feel real good.
“Hey.”
When she looked up, he caught her chin and kissed her, taking his time, enjoying the velvety texture of her lips, trying to show her he was in no hurry. Although his dick wanted to argue.
She opened up for him and he slid his tongue inside, where it found its mate. The funny little tango that followed made them both smile. He’d always liked kissing best when tongues were involved, but simply moving his lips over hers felt more than satisfying. They found their rhythm and he deepened the kiss while pulling her tighter against him.
Sophie made a startled little sound in the back of her throat and stiffened. But she had to know she was making him hard. Thank God she didn’t pull away. She pressed even closer, until her breasts pillowed his chest.
He reached behind to unfasten her bra, anxious to see her bare breasts, to watch her nipples harden and beg for his mouth. With his free hand he cupped her nape, slid his fingers into her hair. A sexy moan filled the inside of his mouth with her warm breath.
All of a sudden she froze.
She let out a squeak and wiggled out of his arms, her hand shooting to the top of her head.
“What happened?” Staying on the safe side, he kept his hands in plain sight. “Did I hurt you?”
They just stared at each other.
She didn’t strike him as a woman who’d care if a man mussed up her hair. So what the hell?
“Sorry,” she said, her cheeks pink. “Really sorry. I’m not freaking out or anything. About being here...you know...in the room with you. I promise I’m not.”
Could’ve fooled him. “Look, we don’t have to—”
“Let’s get in bed, okay? I’ll feel more relaxed then.”
After a quick look at her parted lips, he watched the alarm fade from her eyes. “You don’t like leaving the light on?” Ethan asked, worried he was missing something that would come back to bite him. “Is that it?”
“I don’t care about the light.” She smoothed back her hair and smiled as if nothing had happened.
Now that his body had cooled off some, he needed to think before she took another step toward him. This year he faced more pressure than ever to claim another championship title, partly because of his age, and also because of his kid sister. Mostly, though, it was about his left shoulder. It didn’t hurt all the time, but he knew his rodeo days were numbered.
Sophie came up flush against him and looped her arms around his neck. Her pink lips parted slightly as she tilted her head back. She was still wearing the damn bra, not that it seemed to matter, since his mind went blank.
He put his hands on her waist, waiting, hoping he wasn’t in for another surprise squeal. Her skin was soft and warm above the jeans waistband. The satiny texture made him itch to explore the rest of her. He settled for rubbing the small of her back, then moved his hands over the curve of her firm backside. Squeezing through denim was better than nothing, he supposed.
Screw that.
The jeans and bra both had to come off.
His request was preempted by an urgent tug. Sophie pulled his head down while she lifted herself up to meet his lips. When she leaned into him, moving her hips against his born-again erection, his whole body tightened. He slid his tongue inside her mouth and touched the tip of hers before circling and sampling the sweetness of her.
“Bed,” she whispered.
He lifted her in his arms. With a soft gasp, she hung on tight even after he’d laid her down against the pillows. She resumed the kiss, refusing to let go of his neck, even as he followed her down. The fierce way she was clinging to him made things tricky. He stretched out alongside her, keeping his weight off her and on his braced elbow.
He dragged his mouth away from hers and trailed his lips along her jaw to her ear, wondering where she might be sensitive. After a few nips at her earlobe, he cupped a breast and murmured, “How about we get rid of this bra?”
She vaguely nodded, then stiffened. “Wait.”
“For?”
She sat up and sighed. “I forgot something.”
Ethan fell onto his back. She just wasn’t going to make it easy, was she? “What did you forget?” he asked as she crawled over him and got off the bed.
“Just one sec,” she said, raising one finger before she headed for the chair with her jacket draped over the back.
Ethan watched her rifle through the pockets and found it in his heart to forgive her for the interruption. Only because she had one helluva nice ass. Which he hoped to see in the flesh, preferably before the next full moon.
Okay. He finally understood the problem. “I have a condom,” he said, rolling to the side and reaching into his back pocket. “It’s right here. You can stop looking.”
She murmured something he couldn’t make out, yet managed to give him the impression she hadn’t heard him.
“Sophie?”
She turned to face him, holding the jacket against her front. Fortunately not so her breasts were hidden. Yeah, except the bra took care of that. Shit. Not being able to see and touch was driving him crazy.
He took the packet out of his wallet and tossed both on the nightstand. “Did you hear me?” Why the hell was she bringing the jacket with her? “I have a condom.”
“What? Oh.” She stopped by the side of the bed. “No, we don’t need one.”
“Uh, yeah, we do.” He never broke that rule.
“I changed my mind about the light.” She smiled and leaned down to give him a quick kiss and quite a view. “I think I want it off.”
Ethan had never met a woman who ran so hot and cold, and at the speed of sound on top of that. He’d ridden a hundred ornery bulls that had given him less trouble. Trouble being the keyword here. Maybe this—Sophie—was an omen he needed to take more seriously.
She kissed him again, lingering this time, using her tongue, while trailing her fingers down his chest. She traced a circle around his navel and then rested her hand on his buckle. “I’ll be right back.”
Jesus. “What now?”
“The light.”
Something else that was confusing. He knew she wasn’t shy, and she had a killer body. “How about we leave the one in the bathroom on with the door closed partway?”
She straightened, thought for a moment and then nodded. “I think that might work better, actually.”
Yep. She was a strange one, all right. But that nice round bottom of hers wasn’t easily dismissed. He watched her walk to the bathroom, flip on the light and angle the door just so.
“I doubt you’ll need the jacket,” he said.
She only smiled and moved to the wall switch that controlled the two lamps.
“Why don’t you get rid of those jeans while you’re up?” He’d take care of the bra, no problem.
“Okay. Good idea.” The room dimmed. “You take off yours, too.”
Ethan watched her approach while he unbuckled and unzipped. It was a little too dark for his taste. Once he finally got her naked, he wanted to see her. Staying right where he was, he lifted his ass and pushed down his jeans.
“Here, let me help.” She pulled them off his feet and flung the Wranglers at the chair.
He considered asking her to let a little more light into the room, but she dropped her jacket and climbed onto the bed. She got on her knees and steadied herself with a hand on his belly. And then threw a leg over his thighs and straddled him.
His cock seemed determined to test the resilience of his boxer briefs. “Your turn,” he said, reaching for her zipper.
With a throaty laugh, she shoved his hand away. “Not when I have you exactly where I want you.”
“I’ll make it worth your while,” he murmured, rubbing the back of his knuckles against her denim-covered crotch.
She gasped and squeezed her thighs together, only his hips were in the way. He already knew she was strong, but how she was gripping him...holy shit. Managing to move his trapped hand, he put more pressure on her crotch.
Sophie made a strangled sound. Shifting her body, she captured his hand. Intertwining her fingers with his, she pulled his arm up over his head as she leaned down to bite his lip. The aggressive move surprised him in a good way. With his free hand he unhooked her bra.
The left strap slid off her shoulder and bared her breast. He could see the rosy tip, though not as clearly as he wanted. The moment she realized what had happened, she released him. She leaned back, cursing, and trying to pull the bra up.
Like hell.
He slid his hand in before she could cover herself. And cupped her exposed breast, rubbing his thumb over the hard nipple while baring the other.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered. “Don’t hide yourself.”
Closing her eyes, she arched slightly, filling his palm. He kneaded gently and she sighed, a soft breathy sound he wanted to hear again.
“No.” She shrank back.
“Please, Sophie. I know you’re nervous, but I promise I’ll make you feel better.”
“Stop,” she said, eyes wide but impossible to read in the dimness.
He immediately lowered his hands. “Did I do something wrong?”
An awkward silence fell between them. She hadn’t climbed off, so he figured that was a good sign. She also hadn’t fixed her bra, but he was afraid to so much as glance anywhere below her neck until he understood what had just happened. He’d never had a woman tell him no or to stop before. This was brand-new territory and he was at a complete loss on how to respond. Ego played no part here. If anything, he felt like shit.
“Whatever I did to upset you, I’m very sorry,” he said, resisting the urge to touch her, offer her comfort the only way he knew how. “I really am.”
“Don’t apologize,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s me, I shouldn’t have let— Oh, shit. I hate this.” She leaned over the side of the bed and reached for the jacket on the floor.
“Hate what?” He tried to do the honorable thing and not stare at her breasts. Apparently he had the willpower of a rutting bull, which he wasn’t proud of.
She pulled something out of the pocket and hid it behind her back before he dragged his attention away from her breasts. Cosmic justice, he figured.
He barely had time to blink before she was all over him again. Kissing him, playing the aggressor once more, forcing his arm over his head, her warm soft body pressed close, her hard nipples grazing his chest...the feel of cold metal...
The hard band closing around his wrist jerked him from his haze. He heard a click. Confusion still messed with his brain. Sophie drew back, staring down at him, breathing hard.
He looked at his wrist handcuffed to the bedpost.
Sophie was into that kind of stuff? He wasn’t, but he didn’t mind accommodating her.
4 (#ulink_bf4c4116-64a7-5b16-a927-ebbd52847065)
“YOU COULD’VE JUST told me.” Ethan smiled. “This isn’t my thing, but I’ll play for a while,” he said, and touched her breast.
“Oh, brother.” She slapped his hand away, jerking back. For God’s sake, she’d forgotten she had no top on. “This isn’t a game, you idiot.” She climbed off, glanced around the room for her shirt. Finding it near the chair, she pulled the tee over her head.
“What the hell is going on?”
The wig got caught and shifted. Boy, was she glad to get rid of that stupid thing. No one had warned her it would itch like crazy. She grabbed a handful of the fake blond locks and yanked it off her head.
“Jesus. What the—”
Pulling pins from her own hair, she shook it loose from the tight bun and glanced at Ethan, lying against the cream-colored sheets, his muscled chest smooth, bare and tanned. A light smattering of dark hair swirled just below his belly button and disappeared into the waistband of his boxer briefs.
Oh no. No looking there for her.
“I know you,” he said, narrowing his gaze.
The light from the bathroom washed over his face, the tanned skin bringing out the blue of his eyes, as he studied her with an intensity that made her turn away. Did seeing her as a brunette trigger a memory? Doubtful. He’d barely noticed her after his grand gesture outside the cafeteria right in the middle of lunch period.
She walked into the bathroom and groaned at her image in the mirror. Well, of course her hair was plastered to her head and looking as unattractive as possible. He hadn’t been staring because he remembered her. She could’ve just stepped off the set of some horror movie.
Rubbing her itchy scalp, she bent at the waist and fluffed out her hair. She straightened to look in the mirror again, not expecting much. And that was exactly what she got.
“Are you gonna get out here and explain what the hell is going on?” Ethan sounded angry.
“You jumped bail,” she said, strolling back into the room and picking up her phone. Mostly so she didn’t have to look at him. “Without giving a thought to the large bond that was posted on your behalf.”
“No, I didn’t. Jump bail, I mean. The charges were dropped.”
“When?” If that was true, Lola would’ve told her by now. But he sounded so certain she had to look at him. “When?” she repeated.
“I’m not sure.”
A lock of sun-streaked brown hair had fallen across his forehead. His face was lean and spare like the rest of him. Same square jaw she remembered, except for the dark stubble. And that perfect straight nose. He was even hotter now than he’d been back in high school.
Some friggin’ nerve.
“So, you weren’t sure if you had to show up in court or not and decided to take off anyway. Brilliant move.”
“No, it’s not like that.” He jerked his wrist, clanging the handcuffs against the wooden post. “Is this necessary?”
Well, that had to be rhetorical. She checked for texts or voice mails. “If the charges were dropped, my partner would’ve notified me. So guess you’re out of luck.”
“Okay, look, my friend Arnie... Can we turn on more lights?”
“No.” She sat on the chair and faced him. “Continue.”
Ethan’s normal, easygoing expression had vanished, replaced by a piercing frown that made her tense. “Who are you?”
“Sophie’s my real name.”
“You know what I’m asking.”
“I’m a fugitive retrieval agent—”
“Fugitive?”
“You asked.”
He cut loose a pithy four-letter word. “What’s that, a fancy name for a bounty hunter?”
“Yep.”
“And that gives you the right to slap handcuffs on me?”
“It sure does. Didn’t you read the bail bond contract?” By signing the document, he’d given her and Lola more authority to arrest him than even the police.
She watched him scrub at his face with his free hand and waited out his mumbled curses. Leaving him with an unrestricted hand wasn’t a smart move. The bedpost was made from solid wood and plenty sturdy...she’d checked first thing. But Ethan was agile and strong.
The memory of his hands on her body made her shudder.
Dammit, she should’ve brought two pairs of cuffs. Mandy preferred using zip ties and had given Sophie a few. But they were sitting in the Jeep.
“So that’s why you’re in such great shape,” he murmured.
“Excuse me?”
“I thought maybe you were a personal trainer or something, but that didn’t make sense, either,” he said, letting his gaze wander over her.
“What are you talking about?”
“Look, if you just let me make a phone call, I can straighten this out in no time.”
“I have a better idea. You can do it in person when I take you back to Wyoming.”
“Bullshit.”
Sophie smiled. “It’s late. No sense driving tonight. We’ll leave first thing in the morning.”
He jerked hard on the cuffs. The whole bed seemed to shake. “You know I won’t let you do that.”
“Oh?” She rose. “What are you going to do? Scream?”
Wow, that sure pissed him off. His face reddened, and his eyes turned positively frosty. He looked as if he wanted to put his hands around her neck and strangle the life out of her.
It gave her a new respect for what Mandy had to do all the time. Face down criminals who might actually want to hurt her. Ethan was angry, and he’d try to get away if he could, but Sophie wasn’t afraid of him. She knew he would never do her harm.
She walked to the window and parted the drapes, just enough so she could take a peek down the street. The Watering Hole wasn’t visible from here. Neither was her Jeep. Lots of people were still milling around, though. Another reason she wouldn’t try forcing Ethan into her car tonight.
Damn, she wished she’d grabbed her bag along with the jacket. She needed her toothbrush, face cream, a change of clothes, all that stuff... And she hated leaving Ethan alone while she ran to the Jeep. She turned and caught him staring at her butt.
He gave her a lazy smile.
Oh, so he was pulling out the charm again.
“Aren’t you gonna ask if I did it?”
“What’s the point?” Sophie said. “Unless you have proof, your answer means nothing. And if you had proof, I wouldn’t be here.”
His face darkened. “I didn’t steal a goddamn thing. Wendy lied.”
“Hmm, well, that’s what you get for sleeping with a married woman.”
“You mean, for not sleeping with her.” Ethan shook his head, briefly closing his eyes. “Wendy lied about that, too. When I found out she was married, I left. She was pissed. I knew that... I just didn’t know how bad.”
Sophie thought back to earlier when he’d asked if she was married. He’d even inspected her ring finger. Maybe he was telling the truth, or maybe he’d learned an expensive lesson. The thing was, she didn’t believe that he’d stolen anything. It made no sense. Even if he did need money, she’d seen the teenage Ethan’s moral center, and age didn’t change a person that much. But what she believed didn’t matter.
“If I’m supposed to have a hundred grand in stolen jewelry, why would I need someone to post my bond?”
“You didn’t have enough time to sell it?”
“Get real. I earned a lot more than that in endorsements alone this year. Plus my winnings.”
“Okay, so...” What was she doing? Sophie knew better than to get involved. Her job was to take him back to Wyoming, period. “Why not use your own money to post bond?”
“I don’t have that kind of cash lying around. My money’s invested. I start withdrawing funds and I get questions. The media are already all over my ass about the finals in a week.”
“Why?” She hadn’t realized that she’d walked closer to him until she bumped her knee on a corner of the bed.
“Because of my track record. Every year I—” He plowed his fingers through his hair, the action drawing attention to the muscles in his arms and shoulders. “It doesn’t matter.”
“What?” She snapped her gaze back to his face. “I’m sorry, I missed that last bit.”
He was staring at her again, with the same intensity as earlier. Trying to decide if she was the girl from school? Maybe. “My friend Arnie, he was supposed to take care of it. He knows the charge is bogus and said it would never make it to court.”
“Is he an attorney?”
Ethan sighed. “He dropped out of law school.”
She remembered an Arnie, a dopey junior who used to tag along behind Ethan. If this was the same guy, she sure wouldn’t have trusted him with anything important. “Hope he didn’t quit before he learned the part that would keep you from getting locked up.”
Ethan blew out a breath. It seemed clear he’d had the same thought. “How about we call him? Can I at least do that?”
Sophie wandered toward the window while she tried to think. Talking to Arnie wouldn’t help. Only Lola could tell her if Ethan was in the clear and the bond reimbursed. And for some reason Sophie wasn’t anxious to admit she’d found him already. Why, she didn’t know. She should be ecstatic and gloating.
“Tomorrow’s the Safe Haven Benefit Rodeo,” Ethan said. “They could really use the money. Since I’m the main attraction, it would be a shame if I missed—”
“Shut up.” She glared at him. “I know about the rodeo. And guess what, genius...trying to make me feel bad isn’t helping your cause. It’s just pissing me off. I didn’t create this problem. You did.”
He glared back. “You’re gonna deny me a goddamn lousy phone call?”
“Where’s your cell?”
Frowning, he glanced at the nightstand. “My shirt...where is it?”
“What am I, your maid?” she grumbled, and spotted it on the floor by the chair. She picked up the shirt and then noticed his phone sitting on the armoire. Tempted to toss the cell to him, she moved close enough to drop it on the mattress barely within his reach.
With the most irritating grin, he strained toward the cell and grabbed it. “What are you afraid of? Huh? What did you think I was going to do to you? I’ve got one wrist cuffed to this post,” he said in a taunting tone of voice. “What are you doing to my shirt?”
“What?” She looked down at the garment she was hugging to her chest. “Nothing.”
“Were you sniffing it?”
“No. Ew.” She flung the shirt toward the chair. Oh God, oh God, oh God. Heat stung her cheeks. She kept her face averted, knowing it must be red, and pulled out her own phone.
If he was laughing at her...
If?
Did she really have any doubt?
One word. Just one wrong word out of his mouth, and she’d drag him to her car in front of the whole damn town. Announce to everyone he was a fugitive from justice.
Her sigh ended in a shudder. She hadn’t even been aware of smelling his shirt.
He was awfully quiet.
“Arnie?”
Sophie let out a breath and slowly turned to see Ethan holding the cell to his ear and glaring at the ceiling.
“Don’t pull that you’re-breaking-up bullshit on me,” Ethan said, his voice furious. “What the hell, dude? I thought you were taking care of the charges.”
Sophie perched on the edge of the chair to send a quick text to Lola.
“That’s good, right?” Ethan stacked two pillows behind his back. “If she insists on lying, her husband will know she’s been cruising bars and picking up men while he’s out of town.” He listened for a few seconds. “And I had to call you to find all this out?”
Before hitting Send, she glanced up again.
Ethan looked worried. His chest rose and fell on a sigh. “Jesus, Arnie, you’ve got to find out by tomorrow. The finals are in a week. You know this year could be it for me...”
The despair in his voice made her stomach clench. Thank God she had her phone to occupy her, because she couldn’t stand to look at him right now. This year could be it for him? Why?
“Maybe I should call my agent,” he said, his eyes meeting hers when she looked up. “Brian’s going to find out anyway. They think I jumped bail. I’ve got a damn bounty hunter staring at me right now.”
“Fugitive retrieval agent,” she muttered.
“She’s got me cuffed to the friggin’ bed. Plans on dragging me back to Wyoming tomorrow.” He paused. “Shut the fu—” He glanced at her. “Just make the damn call and get back to me first thing tomorrow. And, Arnie, this is your last chance.” Ethan disconnected and threw the cell down. Hard.
No point in pretending she hadn’t been listening. Anyway, the second he’d left her and Lola holding the bond, so to speak, he forfeited his right to privacy. And no, she absolutely would not feel sorry for him. He’d done this to himself.
She watched him inspect the handcuffs and flex his hand. Then he stared up at the ceiling, thumping his head back against the wooden bed rail, working the muscle at his jaw.
“I wouldn’t trust Arnie if I were you,” Sophie said. “At this point you really do need an attorney.”
Ethan brought his chin down, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You know Arnie?”
Oh, crap. This was what she got for being nice. “No, but it sounded like you don’t have confidence in him. So I’m saying, you should go with your instinct.” She shrugged, carefully keeping her gaze level with his. “Didn’t you mention something about calling your agent?”
His eyes continued to bore into hers. He hadn’t so much as blinked. All she could think to do was stare back. She doubted that little slip about Arnie had been the thing that convinced Ethan of her identity. Just because she looked familiar didn’t mean he remembered they’d gone to the same high school together for seven months, one week and two days.
Yeah, okay, so she’d counted. Down to the minute, actually, but when she’d been... Fifteen. Jeez.
“What did he say, anyway?”
“Arnie?”
“Yes, Arnie.” Her phone signaled a new text. She glanced at the brief message. No surprise there. “I texted a friend who works in the sheriff’s office to check on whether the charges were dropped. It seems you already know the answer.”
He tightened his mouth. “Can you recommend an attorney?”
“Not really. I know a few, but I couldn’t say if they’re any good.” Except for Craig, but she tried to stay clear of him. “What about your agent? Bet he knows one.”
“Brian lives in Dallas. I can’t call him this late. But yeah, he knows everybody. I trust he’ll steer me right.”
“You should’ve called him before you jumped bail.”
Ethan sighed. “I didn’t realize I’d jumped bail,” he said with forced patience. “The charges were supposed to have been dropped.”
“What about your parents? I would think they either have someone they use or know of someone.”
“It’s clear you’re not a rodeo fan, yet you know who they are?”
She shrugged. “I think everyone in Beatrice County knows the name Styles. They own that big ranch and rodeo camp near Otter Lake. And didn’t your dad win something like five championship titles for calf roping, and a few more for something else?”
Ethan nodded. “All-around cowboy three years in a row.”
“Even your mom has four gold buckles for barrel racing, right?”
“You get all that from doing homework on me? Or did you already know this stuff?”
“Half and half.”
“So you probably read about my kid sister.” His tone stayed noncommittal and his expression blank.
Nevertheless, she’d bet there were a lot of emotions bubbling under the surface. She’d definitely seen pride in his eyes, but she wondered if there might be some jealousy in the mix.
“Last December Cara won her first championship title on her twenty-first birthday,” he said. “She’ll be competing for her second title next week. She’ll be headed to Vegas with me. Assuming I get to go.” He jerked on the cuffs so hard the post shook.
“Ah.” Sophie nodded.
“Ah?”
“Sibling rivalry. I get it.” She didn’t have any siblings, but she could imagine the pressure Ethan was feeling. And a kid sister besting him? Ouch. “Well, I know barrel racing is a woman’s event, so I’m guessing that’s what she won?”
He nodded.
“Your dad won first place for tying up poor little calves—”
Ethan stared as though she’d just grown fangs.
“And your mom and sister got prizes for riding a horse around a few barrels without knocking them over.”
Ethan started laughing.
“I’m not finished,” she said. “And you’re a bull rider. Correct me if I’m wrong, but don’t you compete in the hardest, most dangerous event in rodeo?”
“Look,” he said, his laughter ending with a sigh, “I don’t know what your point is. I just need to make it to the finals.” His mood had soured again. “So, what’s it gonna take, Sophie? Tell me.”
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