True Blue Cowboy

“Just Beth.”

“An Arizona cowboy walks into a bar and takes a seat next to an attractive woman named Just Beth.” Mack kept a straight face. He’d noticed Beth the moment she’d entered the bar and had been hoping she wouldn’t hook up with another cowboy before he had the chance to speak with her.

“The cowboy gives Just Beth a quick glance then casually looks at his watch.” Mack nodded to his timepiece. “She asks...” He waited to see if she’d help his story along and when she didn’t, he said, “‘Is your date running late?’” Mack shook his head. “‘No’, the cowboy replies. ‘I just got this state-of-the-art watch and I was testing it.’”

Beth’s eyes twinkled and her posture relaxed. The muscle in her thigh was no longer as hard as a rock and she’d quit tapping her fingernail against the wineglass.

“Intrigued, Just Beth says, ‘What’s so special about your state-of-the-art watch?’ The cowboy explains, ‘It uses alpha waves to talk to me telepathically.’”

She laughed.

“So this Just Beth points at the cowboy’s watch and says, ‘What’s it telling you now?’”

Mack leaned closer to Beth and whispered. “‘It says you’re not wearing any panties.’”

She faked a surprised gasp. “How did Just Beth respond to that?”

“She said the cowboy’s watch must be broken ’cause she’s wearing panties.”

“And what did the cowboy say?” Beth asked.

“He points to his watch and says, ‘Damn thing’s an hour fast.’”

Beth’s mouth formed a perfect O then she snapped it shut and giggled.

Mack glanced at her bare ring finger. “So tell me, Just Beth, do you have a cowboy waiting for you at home?”

“Not anymore.”

“If I were to suggest we get to know each other better after the band finishes tonight...”

“I’d say yes.”

Score! Mack leaned in close, inhaling her sexy scent. “I’ll see you in an hour.” He returned to the stage and the band played a set of rodeo songs and he pushed Beth to the back of his mind, focusing on entertaining the crowd. He never wanted to disappoint his fans.

During the week he made decent money cowboying at the Black Jack Mountain Dude Ranch, but it was the income he earned playing music that padded his savings account. His married brothers suggested he use the money to build a house and find a good woman to settle down with. In the span of a little over three years, four of his brothers and his younger sister had tied the knot. Mack and Porter were the only single siblings left in the family.

A part of Mack admitted that he wasn’t getting as much satisfaction out of the singles scene but old habits died hard, and he was only willing to give up the nightlife when the right woman came along. He looked over at the bar.

Just Beth’s stool was empty.

There went another shot at finding the right woman.

* * *

THE LAST PATRONS walked out the door of the Number 10 Saloon and drove off, leaving only a few scattered pickups in the parking lot. Beth sat on the tailgate of one of the trucks, rocking her legs as if she was on a playground swing.

She hadn’t been this excited or terrified in longer than she could remember. But she’d never done anything like this before. Maybe she should have indulged in a fourth glass of wine while she’d waited for Mack.

Too late now.

The saloon door opened and the Cowboy Rebels walked outside, carrying their instruments. The group exchanged words then broke apart and each member went to their vehicle. Mack’s truck sat in the shadows at the back of the lot, and it wasn’t until he got within ten feet of the pickup that he saw her and applied the brakes. A slow smile spread across his face.

“How’d you know this was my ride?” His husky voice poured over her like honey and she shivered.

“The sign on the door.”

He rubbed a finger alongside his nose as if embarrassed and nodded to the magnetic sheet displaying a cowboy on a bucking horse and the band’s name and website URL printed across the background. “Had those made up a few months ago.”

An uncomfortable silence stretched between them, and Beth wondered if she’d read the signals wrong and Mack had only been teasing about sneaking away together after the bar closed. She hopped off the tailgate. “I...umm...”

Mack moved closer until only a whisper of air squeezed between their bodies. His fingers toyed with one of her hair extensions—could he tell it was fake? He tilted his head to the side to avoid bumping her face with the brim of his hat. Then he kissed her.

Sweet mercy.

The intensity of his kiss curled her toes—pure unadulterated hot, ferocious need. His mouth moved over hers with purpose, and his tongue left no doubt in her mind that he wanted her. She pressed herself against him and buried her hands in his hair, knocking his hat off. Her body had a will of its own and she rubbed the heel of her cowboy boot against the back of his calf.

When he ended the kiss, Beth gasped for air. If things went no further between them than a hot, lusty kiss in the parking lot, she’d go home a satisfied woman. Even so, tonight was about moving on with her life.

“The El Rancho Motel is a few miles from here.” The lodge was located near the neighborhood where she and Brad had bought their house.

Mack tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and the gentle gesture tweaked her heart. “You want to follow me in your car or take my truck?”

“I’ll follow.” There was no reason to give him the impression that she wanted more than a one-night stand. If all went as planned, she’d be gone before he woke in the morning.

He bent over and grabbed his hat off the ground.

She nodded to the white Lexus and he grasped her hand and walked her to the car, then waited for her to sit in the driver’s seat. “Are you sure?” His mouth hovered so close to hers, she could feel his breath.

“Very sure.” She brushed her lips over his and he groaned.

“Drive safe.” He shut the door.

Never in Beth’s thirty-one years had she envisioned herself going to a motel with a complete stranger.

Mack isn’t really a stranger. He was a popular local musician, and her gut insisted she had nothing to worry about.

Then again her gut had gotten it wrong with Brad.

Chapter One (#ulink_691b14f0-148d-50a9-aa77-21ef0c582fc1)

“Damned tractor broke down again.” Mack’s brother Conway entered the bunkhouse and removed a bottled water from the fridge.

“Thought you finished harvesting the pecans last week,” Porter said.

“I’ve got a few acres left.” Conway nodded to Mack, juggling fruit. “What’s he up to?”

“Merle Haggard is getting ready to run off and join the circus.”