Cowboys & Angels (7 page)

Pam looked stunned. “It is?”

“Yep. I can hardly wait.” He glanced over at Trey and Watkins. “See you both at the bachelor party tonight. In the meantime, I’m going to have a long and very private lunch with my fiancée.”

“See you tonight!” Watkins picked up his guitar case and motioned to Trey. “Let’s go, cowboy.”

Trey grabbed his guitar and followed Watkins out of the room, but he couldn’t resist glancing back at Emmett and Pam. Pam looked as if someone had just handed her the moon.

Her expression haunted Trey as he said goodbye to Watkins and walked back to his room. The covers on the bed and the scattered pillows bore mute testimony to the wild passion that he’d shared with Elle less than an hour ago. But it wasn’t love that she felt for him.

If he was honest with himself, he’d have to say that no woman had ever looked at him the way Pam had looked at Emmett. They’d desired him, but they hadn’t gazed at him with their heart in their eyes.

He’d imagined himself in love several times, but had he been? Or had he been in love with the idea of love? If so, then he needed to grow up. This emotion he felt for Elle seemed substantial, but he couldn’t swear it was love. It could be gratitude mixed with her mystery-woman allure and his intense sexual attraction to her.

Watkins had known Mary Lou for years. Emmett had known Pam for years. Trey had known Elle for less than twenty-four hours. During that time they’d had some amazing sex, but not much conversation.

If he expected Elle to ever look at him the way Pam had looked at Emmett, then he needed to spend time getting to know her and letting her get to know him. That probably meant—and this was a slightly depressing conclusion—not having sex.

Or maybe they could have sex, because they both wanted to, and then they could have a long conversation. He wasn’t even sure she’d be interested in having a long conversation with him. Maybe all she cared about was the sex. That thought was the most depressing of all.

If it was true, though, he might as well find out now. He’d started out wanting Elle in his bed, which was a goal any man with a pulse would understand. She was just that hot. But now he wanted more than that for the two of them.

Maybe he’d subconsciously had that goal all along, but until seeing Pam and Emmett together, he hadn’t realized how much he wanted their kind of relationship. He didn’t want to wait years for it, either.

7

T
HE
SHOPPING
TRIP
to Jackson took much longer than Elle would have liked, but Jared seemed in no hurry. All thoughts of squeezing in an hour of alone time with Trey disappeared. Once they returned to the resort, making the video sapped the rest of the day.

By the time Elle glanced at her watch, it was time for the bachelor party to begin in the bar. Fred was working the party, giving Amy the night off, which meant Elle wouldn’t be asked to help out. That gave her no choice but to wait for Trey’s call signaling the end of the bachelor party.

She decided to use the time to decorate her Christmas tree, but the tree was small and her decorations few. She liked Christmas well enough, but having two parents in the military had meant that anything could come up to derail the holidays—a move or a deployment of one parent or the other. Her mother and father had never established family traditions. Flexibility had been the key element for the Mastersons, and Elle had grown up thinking traditions weren’t necessary to a happy life.

That made her the perfect employee for a resort that offered Christmas holiday ski packages. She worked straight through, which allowed both Jared and Annalise to spend a few days at home with their extended families. Her parents treated Christmas so casually that it seemed silly for her to fly thousands of miles to be with them for the holidays.

She hung the last ornament on her tree long before she could expect Trey to call or text, so she decided to turn on her computer and do a Google search for the Last Chance Ranch. Now that she’d met all three Chance brothers, she was curious about the place. She vaguely remembered that they sold horses, so they should have a website.

Wow, did they ever have a website! The images were spectacular, and she quickly realized why. Dominique Chance, Nick’s wife and one of the skiers this morning, was a professional photographer. Elle had seen her work in the windows of a gallery in Jackson. Naturally Dominique would make sure the ranch and its paint horses were shown off to good advantage.

Elle lost herself in exploring the site, all the while picturing Trey there. She read the history of the place—how Archibald Chance had won it in a poker game during the Great Depression of the 1930s. The centerpiece of the ranch, a mammoth two-story log house with wings extending at an angle on each side, looked like something out of a movie.

During the summer months, the ranch house opened its doors to disadvantaged boys, eight per season. They lived and worked on the ranch from the middle of June to the middle of August. An application form was available on the site.

Elle found it significant that the charitable program was as prominent on the home page as the paints that were the ranch’s bread and butter. She didn’t know much about horses, but she could appreciate the beauty of the ones in the photos. One arresting image showed Jack Chance dressed all in black and mounted on a black-and-white stallion named Bandit.

No doubt about it, there was something very sexy about a square-jawed cowboy sitting on a powerful horse. She mentally substituted Trey for Jack in the picture. Yum. She could picture him racing across a grassy meadow, leaning over the horse’s neck, his body in tune with the fluid motion of the horse.

She wouldn’t ever see that, of course. She’d be in Argentina during the months that Trey could conceivably be riding the range doing his cowboy thing. They’d be thousands of miles apart, their short fling forgotten.

Maybe he’d find a cowgirl at that bar Jared had mentioned in the little town of Shoshone, near the ranch. She couldn’t remember the name of the bar, so she typed
Shoshone
into Google and found it. The Spirits and Spurs was owned by Jack’s wife, Josie, who’d also been on the bunny slope today. The bar, more than a hundred years old, got its name from the ghosts who haunted the place—miners and cowhands who’d bought drinks there for generations.

Even though she kept reminding herself that she would never set foot in the bar, she was intrigued. It also provided live music every night during the summer, another feature she wouldn’t be able to enjoy. Trey probably played there, at least once in a while. She was sure that whenever he performed, he would attract the attention of both local girls and tourists passing through.

Did that knowledge bother her and make her jealous? Hell, yes. She had absolutely no right to be jealous of whoever caught his fancy, but the thought of Trey getting jiggy with another woman was decidedly unpleasant.

She’d have to work on that reaction. She couldn’t very well plan to have a casual fling with the man and then expect him to be celibate for the rest of his life because he’d be spoiled for anyone else. Unfortunately, she was a little worried that she might be spoiled for anyone else after the incredible sex they’d had and promised to have again.

As if thinking about that activity prompted it, her cell phone pinged with an incoming text. She grabbed her phone eagerly.
Winding down. Should be about 10 min. Will text when on my way.

Heat swirled through her. She thought she’d been calmly waiting for this text, but apparently not. The phone shook in her hand as she tried to reply with a simple
OK, see you soon
.
She took a deep breath and managed to punch the right letters.

Now what? She had the sudden urge to take a quick shower. And shave her legs. She accomplished that in record time. As she dried off and lotioned up, she thought about what to wear. Nothing too revealing and sexy. Although that would be fun, she’d be walking the halls, where she might meet people.

But she certainly didn’t have to put on underwear. Finally, she settled on jade-green yoga pants and a matching sweatshirt. Easy on, easy off. She got hot again thinking about that. She had some slip-on running shoes without backs. Those would do for her feet.

She put on a little makeup because, once again, she’d be walking the halls and could run into people who might wonder why she looked ready for bed. Ah, she was
so
ready for bed. Brushing her hair, she left it loose.

Her phone pinged again, and adrenaline rushed through her system a second time. She picked it up.
On my way
.

Heart racing, she texted him back.
Me too.
Pocketing her room key and her phone, in case she needed to set an alarm, she turned off all the lights and left her room. She didn’t want someone to see a light in her window at three in the morning and ask her about it.

As she took the stairs to the first floor and walked through the double doors into the guest portion of the hallway, she saw a cluster of guys talking and laughing near one of the suites. They behaved in the jovial way of men who were slightly drunk. She thought she recognized the Chance brothers, who were with an older man she hadn’t met.

They’d probably all attended the bachelor party. She hadn’t thought about it until now, but Trey might be under the influence, too. Liquor usually flowed freely at such events. Could be an interesting evening.

The four men in the hallway were busy joking with one another. Although she’d have to walk past them, they might be too involved to notice her. She could only hope.

As she drew closer, she confirmed that the three younger men were the Chance brothers. The older guy had a handmade card stuck in his hatband that said Groom. Must be Emmett Sterling.

“Give me one good reason why I can’t sleep with my fiancée tonight,” he said in a voice that carried down the hall. Yes, he was definitely tipsy.

Nick Chance stuck one finger in the air and belted out, “Tradition!”

“It ain’t mine,” Emmett said with a grin. “So back off, boys. I’m goin’ in.”

“I’d advise against it.” Gabe put a restraining hand on his shoulder. “You’ve slipped your little love note under the door, so we need to get goin’. I’m sure she told you about this program, buddy. She’s a thorough lady, and she would’ve mentioned it.”

“Yeah, but she was only joshin’.”

Gabe glanced over at Nick. “You think she was kidding, bro?”

Nick shook his head. “Not when I talked to her. She wanted to be
A-L-O-N-E
tonight.”

“Oh, she just thinks she does. I’ll convince her different,” Emmett said.

Head down to hide a smile, Elle walked faster. Maybe she could scoot past while they were arguing this delicate point.

“Emmett, this is why Pam got you a different room for tonight.” Jack sounded reasonable and patient. “She wouldn’t do that if she didn’t mean it.”

“But I still got a key for
this
one, and I know how to use it. I’ll surprise her. She loves surprises.”

Unable to help herself, Elle snuck a peek at the action. Emmett fished a card key from his pocket and started for the door. Feisty guy.

“Hang on, there, cowboy.” Nick caught his arm.

“Sorry, Emmett.” Jack plucked the key from his hand. “If we let you go through that door, our ass is grass. We promised Pam. The elevator’s right down this way.” With a glance at Nick, he took Emmett’s other arm. “What d’ya say we mosey in that direction, just for fun?”

“Fun means moseying through that door. Bunch of spoilsports.” But Emmett allowed himself to be turned.

That put all four of them on a collision course with Elle. She’d been too busy eavesdropping and hadn’t moved fast enough. She smiled brightly, pretending that she had not been listening in on their exchange. “Hi there, gentlemen! Did you have a good time at the bachelor party?”

“We surely did.” Jack turned to Emmett. “Emmett Sterling, our esteemed groom, I’d like you to meet our equally esteemed ski instructor, Elle Masterson.”

“Nice to meet you, ma’am.” Emmett touched the brim of his hat. “Thought about getting out there on the bunny slope, but Pam and I decided I might break something, which would mess up our honeymoon.”

“I understand.”

“Say, what’s this I hear about you being the young lady who pulled Trey Wheeler out of a snowdrift last spring?”

Hearing Trey’s name mentioned when she was on her way to have sex with the guy made her blush. “Fortunately I came along right after he flipped his Jeep.”

Emmett nodded. “I’m mighty glad you did. He’s a good hand and plays that guitar of his real nice, too. Kept us plenty entertained tonight.”

“I’m glad.” Dear God, how she wished that her blush would fade, but Trey was a subject guaranteed to put pink in her cheeks.

“I assume you’re free tomorrow afternoon and evening,” Emmett said, “since we’re your only responsibility and we sure as hell won’t be out skiing then.”

Carl had given her the day off, which wouldn’t help her at all when it came to Trey, who would be at the wedding. “I thought I’d do a little skiing on my own,” she said.

“Ah, you can do that anytime.” Emmett waved a dismissive hand. “Come to the wedding and watch me get hitched. Ceremony’s at two, but you’d best get there early and grab a good seat.”

“Thank you so much, but I don’t want to intrude.” That much was true, but she wouldn’t mind getting to hear Trey and Watkins perform.

“Emmett wouldn’t ask if he didn’t mean it,” Jack said. “It’s a great idea. We’re all grateful for what you did for Trey. You’d be most welcome.”

“Absolutely,” Nick added. “You have to come. I’m sure Pam would want you there, too.”

Gabe grinned at her. “It’ll be the wedding of the century. You don’t want to miss that, do you?”

She laughed. “Not when you put it that way. Thank you. I’ll be there.”

“Good. That’s settled.” Emmett looked pleased. “Now, before you go, I have an important question to ask. Normally I wouldn’t discuss this in public, but I’ve had a few drinks, so my tongue’s loosened up a bit. And you’re a woman.”

“Yes, I am. Excellent observation.”

“A mighty pretty woman, at that. Anyway, as a woman, what do you think of keeping a man and his fiancée apart the night before they get hitched?”

Elle glanced at Jack, whose eyebrows rose expressively. She understood his silent request that she help the cause, not hinder it.

As it happened, she was glad to. “I think it’s sweet,” she said, earning her a big smile from Jack. “Old-fashioned, maybe, but sweet. It gives you a chance to miss each other a little, and that will make the wedding night even better.”

“Hmm.” Emmett stroked his mustache. “Hadn’t thought of that. Might be true. Guess I’m okay with it.”

“If that’s settled, we’d best be off,” Nick said. “Big day tomorrow.”

“Yep.” Elle was more than ready to be on her way, too.

The men all said their good-nights and touched the brims of their hats in farewell.

“Thanks again for the invitation,” Elle said.

“We’ll be expecting you.” Jack met her gaze. “Have a good night, Elle.”

“Thanks.” She’d probably imagined a gleam of mischief in Jack’s dark eyes. As she continued down the hall, she told herself he didn’t know where she was going. Yeah, right. Why else would she be roaming the halls at one in the morning if not to pay a call on the cowboy in room 124—the very cowboy they’d just been discussing?

* * *

A
FTER
E
LLE
’
S
EAGERNESS
that morning, Trey halfway expected her to beat him to the room. Instead, he had time to straighten the covers on the bed and retrieve a couple of condoms from his duffel bag. He’d bought more in one of the resort shops devoted to toiletries and over-the-counter medicine.

When she still hadn’t arrived, he sat on the bed and took off his boots. Then he stripped his belt from its loops and laid that on the dresser. After that, he had to stop himself from taking off everything else. Not cool. She might have caught him wearing only a towel this morning, but his showing up at the door like that again would lack class.

Yet he was too agitated to sit still. Laughing to himself, he thought of his original plan to have an in-depth conversation with Elle before getting naked. Good thing he’d shelved that idea. But he hadn’t given up on the concept of getting to know her better, and vice versa.