The Reluctant Rancher~Badlands (Contemporary Western Romantic Suspense) (4 page)

The baby let out a wail and Sara Beth bounced her gently in her arms.

“Now, don’t you go frettin’. Mama’s here. And, even if your daddy has left us, we’ll get by.”

It hadn’t been the first thought in her head when he hadn’t called for a week…but somewhere a little seed of doubt was growing. She knew her husband was not known for being the most mature of men. In fact, he sometimes made some downright dumb decisions, but she had never doubted that he loved her…until recently. Maybe the strain of being a new father had gotten to him. Maybe he decided he didn’t want to be married any more.
Well this is a helluva way of letting me know, Nick Jessup!

~*~

CHAPTER THREE

Jenna paid for her ticket at the door and made a beeline for the bar. She ordered a longneck and turned to look over the crowd. She saw a fine mix of all the usual suspects as well as some people she figured had come from other towns to hear the band. She thought she would just hang out at
the bar and not sit with anyone yet.
Keeping my options open
. She usually came with friends, but the friends would keep her busy dancing and if there was someone wonderful out there, he wouldn’t know she was single…totally unattached…available…

She turned back to the bar and sucked down a long swallow of beer. Her timing had been right. The band had taken the stage and they were doing sound checks, so the music should start soon. She wanted to see who took the floor with their dates and who were the single men just itching to dance with her.

She had pulled on her starched and ironed jeans and the boots she saved for special occasions, not stomping through cattle pens. She wore a knit top that showed off her slim curves and let her hair hang free. Somebody, somewhere ought to notice that she was a girl tonight.

“Hey Jenna!”

She turned to see Frank one of the hands who worked for Camryn Carmichael. Ryan now. She let out a huff of air. “Hey, yourself.”

He paid for a beer and leaned on the bar alongside her. “You’re
lookin’ mighty hot tonight.”

“Thanks.” She had to grin at his pronouncement. He was cute; maybe even handsome…a couple of years younger than
her, but cute nonetheless.

And he knew how to dress. Starched and pressed Wranglers.
Same for his shirt and he was wearing the right hat. Resistol straw for summer. His boots were polished, but looked broken in and comfortable. His Wranglers were just the right length where they stacked on top of his boots and didn’t look like he was wearing high waters.

Honestly!
Some of these so-called cowboys. All hat. No cattle.

The band started off the night with a two-step and Frank set his longneck on the bar. “Would you c
are to dance, Jenna?” he asked.

“I don’t mind if I do.” She grinned and put her hand in the one he offered to her. Frank swung her onto the dance floor and they made a circle, dancing all around the room. She got a chance to look over the crop of candidates and decided she had the pick of the litter. And he could dance…wasn’t stepping all over her or jerking her around.
Smooth as maple syrup
.

The next dance was a fast polka and Frank picked up the tempo, whirling her around in strong arms. She found herself grinning, having a great time in spite of herself. Even if Frank wasn’t the educated husband material she was looking for, he was there and he was attentive.
That’ll do
.

He walked her back to the bar when the song was over and retrieved his beer. He touched the brim of his hat and walked away.

Jenna felt a little miffed. She hadn’t figured that he would just leave. She saw him make a beeline to the table where Milita Rios was sitting with some friends. He pulled up a chair across from her and they appeared to be in rapt conversation.
Well, damn!

She turned back to her beer and jostled the tall man standing beside her. He spilled his shot of whatever he was drinking. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said and reached for a stack of napkins. She turned to the man and began mopping at his sleeve.

“Thanks a lot, Jenna. That’s a nice thing to do for a jackass.”

She gazed up into the smirking face of the biggest jackass in her entire frame of reference.
E.J. Kincaid
. Her napkin-wielding hand froze in mid-air. “Sorry,” she muttered and wadded the wet napkins into a ball. She lobbed it over the bar and into a trash can on the opposite wall.

“Three points.” E.J. toasted her with what was left of his drink and tossed it down. “You must have been a star of the
girls’ basketball team.”

She huffed out a disgruntled sound. “As a matter of fact, I was.” She looked him over.
Too freakin’ perfect
. “I don’t suppose you dirtied your lily-white hands to play sports, did you?”

He chortled and signaled the bartender for another drink. “As a matter of fact, I did.”

“Okay, I’ll bite. Did you go out for theater arts or floral design?”

“Soccer, rugby,
la crosse, field hockey, tennis, equestrian and, yes…I did play basketball.”

“Well, consider me impressed.” She didn’t tell him what she thought of all those fancy, private school so-called sports.
Soccer?
Hadn’t he heard of good old American football? “Let me pay for your drink, since I spilled it all over you.”

“That would be nice, but I can’t let you do that,” he said. “We jackasses always pay our own way.”

She sucked in a breath and took another sip of her beer.
He’s not going to let that one go anytime soon.

The bartender poured a shot of Patron in the empty glass and E.J. motion
ed for him to leave the bottle.

“I must say, Jenna. You look amazingly attractive tonight.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Amazingly?”

“I should say
, I have never seen you look as pretty as you do this evening.” He lifted the glass and let the tequila roll down his throat.

“You’re not feeling any pain, are you?”

He snorted. “You think I’d have to be drunk to compliment you?”

“Well, it sure doesn’t hurt.”

“Nooo,” he drawled out. “I always thought you were pretty. Just didn’t think you knew how to be a woman.”

“
Wha-a-a?” She drew herself to her full height and stared up at him with her mouth open. “I’ll have you know I’m more woman than you could ever handle.”

“You’re probably right,” he grunted and finished off his drink. “Come on. Let’s dance. Then you can say you’ve danced with a jackass.”

He grabbed her hand and led her to the middle of the dance floor. Just as he twirled her into his arms the band finished the fast song they had been playing and changed to a slow one.

She found herself staring up into impossibly blue eyes and pressed against a chest as hard as concrete. She knew for a fact that this guy didn’t work at much of anything.
Maybe he got those pecs by lifting his hairdryer.

He pulled her closer and began moving to the music. He was easy to follow and led her around the dance floor without running into anyone. That was a plus. And when the next song started up, he slid right into a t
wo-step without any hesitation.

Okay, he can dance…and he’s got a great body, I’ll give him that. And he’s gorgeous to look at, but he’s still an arrogant jackass.

When the song was over, he tucked her hand in the crook of his arm and escorted her back to the bar. “Do you want to sit down?” he asked.

“Yeah, I guess so.” She wondered what the regulars were thinking of her dancing with Eldon Kincaid’s fancy-pants son, but when she looked around, no one was p
aying any particular attention.

“Bartender, another glass.”
E.J. motioned to the bartender who brought him a second shot glass. He picked up the bottle and both glasses and directed her to a table on the far side of the dance floor.

She nodded and led the way, conscious of every head that turned her way.
Well, now they’re checking us out. Great!

E.J. set the bottle down and pulled out a chair for her and then seated himself.
At least his manners are impeccable. Maybe if he just doesn’t talk
.

He filled bo
th glasses and offered her one.

Oh, what the heck!
She picked up the glass and clinked it against his before throwing the fiery liquid down her throat. She sucked in a breath of air and it seemed that her entire gullet and esophagus were enflamed.

After the next round of dancing, E.J. refilled her glass and it didn’t see
m quite so scorching this time.

She was surprised that he could actually carry on an intelligent conversation. At least he could make her laugh. Well, she was on her home turf. All her friends were here, although they seemed to be keeping their distance.
Probably intimidated by the big, rich E.J. Kincaid. But, she wasn’t afraid of him. What could happen?

~*~

Her head throbbed and her stomach roiled. She cautiously opened her eyes and discovered that she was naked and she was not alone. The big muscled arms of E.J. Kincaid were wrapped around her. She was curled in the curve of his body and there seemed to be a tree trunk growing between his legs and pressing against her back side.

I’m spooning with a jackass!
A jackass with an erection. What did I do?
She couldn’t remember anything that happened last night. She didn’t remember leaving the Eagle’s Hall. She didn’t remember how she had been divested of her clothes.

A soft moan escaped her throat and E.J. stirred, pulled her closer and kissed her shoulder.
Kissed it like he might have been kissing it all night long.

“Morning, Beautiful.”
His voice rumbled deep in his chest and seemed to wrap around her. Seemed to envelop her in affection and intimacy.

What have I done?

“Are you feeling okay? You were really putting it away last night.”

“I was?” she croaked.

He kissed her shoulder again, chortling softly. “You were a wild woman.”

She let out a sound that was something between a moan and a whimper. “Let me up. Where’s the bathroom?”

“Sure, honey.” He slid his hands over her body, giving her breast a loving caress. “The bathroom is straight through there.” He pointed her in the right direction.

She sat up on the side of the bed. Her feet tangled in the various items of clothing that she must have shed and thrown on the floor. Her gag reflex was working overtime as she gathered her clothes and then fled i
n the direction he had pointed.

She glanced back at E.J. and found him grinning at her naked behind. He blew her a kiss as she ducked inside and secured the door.

~*~

E.J. burst into silent laughter as soon as Jenna closed and locked the bathroom door. He stifled the sound in his pillow. He wished he had a camera
handy to record Jenna’s expression.

He had to admit that the sight of her lovely derriere would remain with him for a while, alongside the images in his head
of her lying naked in his bed.

Once
she had gotten out of her boots and jeans, she looked like any other woman he might find in the center of a girlie magazine. All soft curves and smooth skin. He swallowed hard, remembering how she had felt clutched against him; how she had slept in his arms…He snorted…How she would die of embarrassment if any of her rustic friends found out she had spent the night with a Kincaid.

Their evening together had progressed from her snarky comments and not-so-subtle put-downs, to her giggling and slurring her words.
He had taken her keys and poured her into his vehicle, intending to take her to her own home, but the idea of having her wake up in the arms of a jackass was too good to pass up.

When he had carried her to his room, he sat her on the bed and knelt down to help remove her boots. That done, she had started disrobing immediately, stripping out of her jeans and shirt before falling
back spread-eagle onto his bed.

He wasn’t sure what her intentions were, but he was willing to play any game she had in mind. By the time he had his clothes off, her bra and panties had hit the floor. He had to adjust his earlier opinion of Jenna Lewis. She definitely looked like a woman and a more bea
utiful woman he had never seen.

It had taken all of his resolve to turn off the lights and gather her in his arms, and even more to lay awake, holdin
g her while she slept.

It had
all been worth it to see the horrified expression on her face in the morning.

Of course, she would never know that he had done the somewhat chivalrous thing and not had his way with her. He thought that he would carry that secret to his grave. E.J. Kincaid did not have to get a woman drunk to seduce her. The women he had bedded in the past were all willing participants and he intended
to keep it that way.