This Kiss (Made In Montana Book 12) (9 page)

She pulled it back. “I’ll wait in the truck.”

“Come on...” Wasn’t this just great? They were gonna end up arguing. So be it, but they weren’t leaving tonight. “Matt and Rachel are barbecuing.”

“I heard,” she said, staying a step ahead of him.

“There won’t be a lot of people, mostly the riders who are staying here in their trailers.” He watched her squeeze between the fence post and the wall. No way he’d fit so he just moved the whole damn temporary fence. “Did you hear me?”

“Yes, I heard you, and you already know what I have to say to that.”

“My agent called,” he said, and that stopped her. “He’s in the middle of something with a football client. We’re talking later.”

“Did you not tell him how important this is?”

“I will.”

She shook her head. Then without so much as a glance, she walked in the direction of the truck, leaving him to face a dozen squealing kids and a pack of buckle bunnies.

9

S
OPHIE
WAS
IN
TROUBLE
. She slumped down in the truck’s passenger seat, grateful for the tinted windows, and checked her texts. Two from Lola, one from Mandy and a voice mail from her mom. Since she could set a clock by her mom’s Saturday phone calls, she’d listen to the message later.

But Lola was getting impatient, and Sophie could hardly blame her.

She thumped her head back on the leather headrest. It was far too comfortable to knock any real sense into her thick skull.

God, she was being stupid. Not just stupid. She’d risen to the level of too-stupid-to-live. When had she become the kind of ridiculous airhead she and Mandy liked to make fun of in bars?

Well, payback was a bitch. She was allowing Ethan to make a complete fool out of her. He probably knew she’d gotten all giddy inside when he’d announced she was his girlfriend. He was only using her to buy time and to keep the buckle bunnies at bay.

And yet, a part of her refused to believe that he’d be so heartless. Something other than ego was driving him to go after that second championship. Maybe that something was more important than her ending up as collateral damage.

She really hadn’t expected to like Ethan. He was nothing like the self-centered man she’d imagined. But he was being naive. Clearly he hadn’t explained the gravity of his situation to his agent. If he had, Brian wouldn’t be shelving the problem for later.

Sitting up straighter, she adjusted the rearview mirror, hoping she could see how the fan schmoozing was going. She recognized a young saddle bronc rider dividing his attention between a blonde and signing a kid’s T-shirt. The crowd had thinned, but her view was still limited. She couldn’t see Ethan and assumed he was around the corner of the building.

A volunteer picked up trash while two more were closing down the hot dog concession. Hopefully the fans would clear out soon. The sun had gone down, and so had the temperature. She should probably offer to help. But there was a call she should make first.

Ethan needed a lawyer. And Craig Langley was an excellent defense attorney. Every deputy and assistant DA she knew couldn’t stand the man, which spoke to his success at getting his clients off. The reason she didn’t care for him was more personal. For months he’d been asking her out with the same dogged persistence he used to wear down prosecutors. But he was too smooth in his thousand-dollar suits and not at all her type.

She stared at her phone, well aware that if she asked Craig for help, she’d owe him. Just the thought of having dinner with him gave her the creeps. And if any of the deputies found out, she’d be the laughingstock of the whole county.

“Damn you, Ethan.” She sucked in a breath and checked old incoming calls. Yep, there was his number.

Craig answered on the second ring. “Sophie?”

“Hey.” She forced a smile, hoping it helped make her sound less as though she’d rather be eating worms. “Got a minute?”

“Well, now, honey, for you I’ve got all night.”

“I need a favor,” she said on an exhale, and then summed up the problem, leaving out names for now.

“Hmm, you know I always have a full caseload...” he drawled.

She held back a sigh. Fine. She’d figured he would milk the situation. “I know you’re busy, Craig,” she said shamelessly using that husky tone men liked. “That’s why I hated to even ask, but it’s a time-sensitive matter. And frankly there’s no one I could trust more with this little problem.”

“You were absolutely right to call me. How about we meet for dinner to discuss the details?”

“I’d love that. I really would, except I’m out of town at the moment. In Montana, actually.”

“Montana? When will you be back?”

“Monday, I hope.”

“All right, that’s the day after tomorrow. How about I make dinner reservations at La Maison? Would you like that?”

Cringing, Sophie shoved a hand through her hair. “See, this little problem my friend has, it really can’t wait that long,” she said, then tensed at his silence. “But dinner at La Maison sounds—”

She hadn’t realized Ethan had opened the driver’s door until she saw him standing there.

“That sounds great,” she said in a rush, and saw Ethan frown. “But I need to go right now.”

“We don’t have to eat at La Maison,” Craig said, sounding confused. “I know this little bistro—”

“I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Sophie?”

She hung up on him. “All done?” she asked Ethan.

He frowned. “Am I interrupting?”

“Nope. Let’s go.”

He slid behind the wheel and closed the door. “Did you have to cancel a date?”

“No.” She noticed he didn’t have his keys out.

“The food’s good at La Maison.”

“You’ve been there?”

“A few times.”

“Don’t they require a jacket and tie?”

Ethan cocked an eyebrow. “I happen to have both.”

“Huh. I can’t picture you in a tie,” she said, and failed to see why he seemed to find that objectionable. “Come on, why aren’t we moving?”

“Because I’m not ready to move.” He turned most of his body toward her. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

“No.” He had some nerve. So why did she want so badly to help him stay out of jail? Might as well change her forehead tattoo from
denial
to
stupid
.

“Well, somebody sure wants to impress you.”

She glared at him. “And if he does?”

“Nothing.” Ethan took his hat off and tossed it into the backseat. “I’m sorry I screwed up your date. If you want to go to La Maison, I’ll take you there myself.”

Sophie snorted a laugh. Good to know it wasn’t just her who was acting like a ridiculous child.

“What?”

“You like the food at La Maison? How about I bring you a takeout while you’re sitting in jail?”

It was Ethan’s turn to glare. “You’re picking a fight so we don’t go to the barbecue.”

“You’re unbelievable,” she said. “You really are.” She laid her head back and rubbed her eyes, careful not to streak her mascara. Out of her peripheral vision she saw him take out his phone.

“Arnie? Tell me something good.” Ethan stared out the windshield while he listened. His mouth tightened. “Arnie.” He drawled the name into a warning, then waited, listening, the muscle in his jaw working double time. “You dumb fuck, you slept with her, didn’t you?”

Sophie lifted her head and stared outright.

He dropped the phone into his lap and hit the steering wheel with the heel of his hand.

Cursed.

Hit the wheel again.

“Tell me,” she said, the tension in her chest beginning to hurt.

“Wendy isn’t going to admit she lied. She can’t change her story now.”

“But her husband...”

“Fullerton already knows. His ranch foreman doesn’t like Wendy, so he told the old man he saw me leaving around midnight. That’s why she made up a story about turning me down at the bar and me following her home.”

“But as far as Fullerton knows, you could’ve just been giving her a ride home or dropping something off...”

Ethan smiled.

“It’s possible,” Sophie said, annoyed that he thought she was the one being naive. “So, why did Arnie sleep with her? And anyway, doesn’t that just prove she’s a serial cheater?”

“She played him. Wendy found the perfect way to keep the dumb ass from telling her husband the truth. Claiming I’d ripped her off was overkill. She must’ve regretted it as soon as she realized she’d have to get rid of the jewelry and deal with an insurance investigation. So when Arnie showed up in front of a bunch of witnesses she jumped at the chance to tell everyone he’d brought the jewelry back to get her to drop the charges. He made it real easy for her to keep her jewelry and stick to the lie.”

“That’s crazy.”

“Crazy or not, I don’t need that kind of publicity dogging me at the finals.”

“Yeah, but who’d believe you would do something like that?”

“Probably no one but her husband, if only to keep the marriage intact and save face.”

“Men and their damn egos.” She saw his eyebrows go up. “Yes, I’m talking about you, too.” She huffed out a breath. Something had been bothering her... “What’s a suicide wrap?”

His eyes narrowed. “Where did you hear that?”

“Some guys sitting next to me on the bleachers.”

Shaking his head, he sighed. “We wrap the hand we use to hold on to the leather strap. Weaving the rope between the ring finger and pinkie makes it harder for the bull to pull it out of your hand,” he said. “It also makes it harder for a rider to let go.”

“And he can get hung up on a thrashing bull.”

“Yes, sometimes that happens.”

She tried to control a shudder. “Did you use one of those wraps today?”

“No.”

“Do you ever?”

“Yes,” he said, his gaze steady. “But I’m not reckless, Sophie.”

“Uh, do you even know what the word
suicide
means?”

“Sorry we can’t all be as smart as you,” he said, his expression stony. “That doesn’t mean I’m stupid.”

Sophie briefly closed her eyes. “I’m sorry. I know I’m snide sometimes—of course I wasn’t saying you’re stupid.” This was another reason kids had picked on her. She just didn’t know when to keep her mouth shut. “If anyone’s stupid, it’s me. I’m supposed to be taking you back, not trying to find a way to— You don’t even care what happens. Why should I?”

He caught her waving hands and held them both in one of his. “I care,” he said, and looked directly into her eyes. “I thought Arnie would come through. Brian will, but probably not in time to avoid court, so we’ll head to Wyoming tomorrow.”

“In the morning?” she asked hopefully.

“No. After my ride.”

“That’s cutting it close.”

He shrugged. “I got here in twelve hours with one stop. What about you?”

“The same.”

“I’ll talk to Matt about switching the schedule. We should be able to leave by midafternoon. Stop at a motel halfway and get a few hours’ sleep.” Ethan leaned over the console to brush a kiss across her lips. “How’s that?”

She nodded, happy she could call Lola and not have to lie. Happy she was sitting here in Ethan’s truck, feeling his warm breath on her face. “You might still need an attorney.”

“I guess it’ll depend on how far Wendy pushes her story.”

“I bet she wants this to go away as much as you do.”

“Sure hope so.” He cupped the side of her face and studied her lips, his mouth curving in a slow smile.

“Wait. Let me say this before we get crazy and I forget.”

A low chuckle rumbled in his throat. “Make it quick.”

“Uh-huh.” She touched his jaw, intrigued by the stubble that hadn’t been there this morning. The rasp against her fingertips was oddly arousing. Imagining how amazing it would feel pressed to her breasts had her holding her breath.

“Last chance,” he said, sliding his fingers into her hair.

Whatever she’d been about to say was already in the wind. She hoped it wasn’t important. It didn’t matter. She was more interested in what Ethan was doing to her scalp. His touch was sheer heaven. The soothing massage turned into a slight tug. She realized she’d closed her eyes.

Apparently he wanted them open. Watching her face, he held her still as he lowered his mouth. Their lips barely touched and lightning shot through her. His tongue didn’t politely wait for an invitation. He demanded entrance, coaxing and teasing his way inside, stoking the fire that had ignited low in her belly.

She clutched his arm, digging her fingers into hard muscle, and met each stroke of his tongue. The console was in their way. She wished they could push it to the floor. Or what if they climbed into the backseat?

A light came on somewhere behind him, closer to the house. She didn’t care. Her existence had narrowed to the urgency of Ethan’s touch, his greedy mouth, the feel of his warm hard body and the longing about to burst out of her chest. Her young girlish fantasies hadn’t prepared her for this, not for Ethan in the flesh.

He moved his shoulder to block the light from hitting her face. But he kept kissing her, touching her jaw, the side of her chin, testing how their mouths fit together from different angles. He traced her ear with his thumb, then followed the curve of her neck, and dipped his fingers under the neckline of her top. He thrust his tongue deeper into her mouth and still she couldn’t get enough of him. Finally, gasping for air, they pulled apart.

Trying to catch her breath, she looked around. When had it gotten so dark? Where was everyone? Low-voltage security lights from the stable and barns provided a soft glow. A couple of ranch hands stood outside the well-lit bunkhouse. Lots of activity happening where the fifth-wheelers and motor coaches were parked. But it was the porch light from the house that had shone in her face. No one was close enough to see them, though.

The fog had lifted from her brain and she looked at Ethan, who was staring at her.

She smiled at him.

He smiled back.

A wave of distant laughter came from the direction of the house.

“The barbecue,” they said at the same time.

“Bet they won’t miss us,” Ethan said, reaching for her again.

Who cared if they did? she thought, and bumped his nose in her haste to get to his mouth. He murmured an “Ouch” and she started giggling.

“I barely touched you, Mr. Big-Tough-Bull-Rider.”

“I never said I was tough. I get a paper cut and I cry like a baby.” He ran a palm down her arm, then worked his thumb underneath the sleeve, stretching the fabric as far as it would go so he could probe her muscles. “You’re the one who feels pretty tough. Work out much?”

She knew the question was rhetorical. “Every chance I get,” she said anyway, and punctuated it with a quick teasing kiss.

“Remind me not to mess with you.”

“I tried to warn—” She gasped at the feel of his hand sliding under her shirt.

“Nice abs.” He smiled against her mouth, then brushed his tongue over hers. His hand skimmed her right breast, proving the bra an ineffective barrier.

Her nipples tightened immediately. He dipped his fingers inside the satin cup and grazed the puckered flesh. His touch sparked a surge of liquid heat that spread throughout her body, seeking release. Seeking more...