Читать книгу This Kiss - Debbi Rawlins - Страница 9

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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.