Cowboy Crazy

chapter 12



The next morning, Sarah stared into the bakery case at Casper’s only Starbucks as if the fate of the universe depended on the choice between Very Berry Coffee Cake and a banana nut muffin. But she wasn’t thinking about breakfast; she was thinking about Lane. The evening at the rodeo had stirred up memories and misgivings and way more hormones than she could handle. She’d slept uneasily, waking to realize she’d dreamed of him.

He’d gotten bucked off again in her dream, and she’d crawled under the fence and run to him while the noise of the crowd roared in her ears and the clowns lured the bull away. Bloody white bones stuck out of his chest, and she’d knelt in the arena, hurrying to force the broken ends together while the bull pawed the dirt. The bones kept snapping apart in her hands and she woke with her mouth dry as dust, her arms aching as if she’d worked out all night.

The dream and the night that inspired it proved she’d made a mistake by getting personal with a cowboy. With Lane, there was too much risk. Too much feeling. Too much everything. She was her normal, rational self until he touched her, or looked at her in that intense way that made her feel like their souls had met and mated in some previous life.

She couldn’t erase what had happened, but she needed to forget it. She’d avoid Lane and make a solemn vow to keep herself on track. From now on, she would keep friendships and business relationships separate.

“Never again,” she muttered to herself, making a quick and very vague sign of the cross.

“Warding off temptation?” She turned to see Eric standing behind her, holding a steaming venti cup that gave off the sweet, milky scent of a latte. Damn. It was like seeing the Devil’s brother beside you when you’d just sworn off sin.

But Eric didn’t have the effect on her that Lane did. She wondered why. He was just her type—classy and sophisticated. Why did her heart beat so fast for the yahoo brother? If she was going to screw up her life, why couldn’t she choose a guy who fit into the future she had planned?

“How did it go with my brother last night?”

She moved up a spot in line as a guy in a denim jacket finished giving his order and moved to the pickup counter. “Well, let’s see. He got bucked off his bull and we spent most of the night in the medical unit.” She caught a flash of concern in Eric’s eyes and hurried to say, “But he’s okay.”

“Did you change his mind?” His posture stiffened slightly. “Or did he change yours? Please don’t tell me he made you long for the romance of cowboy life?”

It wasn’t the cowboy life Lane had made her long for; it was the cowboy himself. But that was the last thing she wanted Eric to discover. The rivalry between the two brothers was probably a holdover from adolescence, but it was obviously still strong. Shifting her loyalties to Lane wouldn’t just make her less effective on the job; her boss would see it as a betrayal.

All the more reason to step away from the cowboy.

She shrugged one shoulder in what she hoped was a casual gesture. “As far as I can tell, there is no romance in the cowboy life.” She faked absorption in the menu, as if she hadn’t already memorized the coffee shop’s offerings. “Basically, the whole thing just proved what I already knew. That cowboy culture he’s so set on is a dying concept, and the people clinging to it aren’t exactly enriching the community. Bringing in oil workers would probably improve things. But I doubt anything can convince Lane of that.”

Eric took another sip of his latte and pulled his wallet out of his back pocket. Flipping it open, he fished out a gold Starbucks card and turned it in his long, slender fingers like a street-corner magician. The metallic surface of the card caught the sunlight streaming in the window behind them and arced glints of light off the wall behind the bake case. Everything about the man was accomplished and graceful. The fact that she was attracted to the cowboy brother and not the executive just proved she hadn’t left her old self behind as effectively as she’d thought.

“So let me buy you a coffee. And maybe a doughnut?”

“No, thanks.”

“Oh, that’s right, you just swore off those.” He shot her a sharp glance. “Or were you swearing off something else?”

The card in his fingers caught the light and flashed in her eyes. She felt like she was under interrogation, but Eric was just making conversation.

Wasn’t he?

“No, I was just warding off the coffee cake.”

“Good. I was afraid Lane had inspired you to swear off the Carrigan brothers, and I wanted you to go to the Petroleum Club with me tonight.”

“The Petroleum Club?” Sarah could feel another unkept vow winging away to join the ones that had fluttered off the night before. The club was a massive cedar-sided building on the edge of town, a complicated structure with elaborate gables jutting from the roof and subtle lighting fanning over the walls. Membership fees were astronomical, and nonmembers rarely passed through its intricately carved doors. The food was rumored to be incredible, the atmosphere posh beyond belief. Sarah was dying to go there.

And maybe spending time with Eric would help exorcise whatever evil impulse was urging her toward Lane.

“You know you want to go,” Eric said. “And I need a date. It’s a benefit dinner.” He flashed her a knowing smile. “The chef there is incredible, and their wine list is a mile long. I know you appreciate good wine.”

Sarah did like good wine. Unfortunately, she usually liked bad wine too—especially the super-sweet pink stuff. Learning to tell the difference was part of her scheme to infiltrate the upper classes.

“It might look bad,” she said reluctantly. “Other employees might get the wrong idea.”

“It won’t be just you and me,” he said. “I bought a whole table, so I actually have three seats to fill.”

She turned to see Gloria standing behind the pastry case, staring expectantly at her, then flicking her gaze to Eric. Her roommate scanned Eric’s expensive haircut, then licked her lips at the cut of his Armani suit.

“Well, hello,” she said in a Mae West purr.

“Hi, Gloria. Eric, this is my—friend. Gloria. Gloria, this is Eric Carrigan. He’s…”

“Oh, I know who he is.” Gloria’s dimples deepened as she gave her blond locks a peppy Meg Ryan toss. “It’s just wonderful to meet you. I so appreciate all you do for this town. I mean, half our customers are Carrigan employees. If it wasn’t for you, we’d all be drinking our coffee at Dunkin’ Donuts.” She giggled and Sarah winced at her slightly maniacal pitch. Gloria had a tendency to try too hard with men. “I mean, I like the finer things in life. Don’t you?” She cocked her head and pressed her arms to her sides, turning slightly from side to side in a gesture that appeared little-girl bashful but actually emphasized her own “finer things.” Both of them.

“Maybe you’d like to go with us tonight too,” Eric said, obviously charmed by Gloria’s puppylike friendliness.

Sarah could feel her two lives colliding again, but she was helpless to stop it. Gloria never saw a party she couldn’t liven up with a little table-dancing, and she’d never met a man she wouldn’t try to seduce—especially if he happened to have a tight butt and a loose wallet.

“A bunch of my golf buddies are going to be there.” Eric named a couple of higher-ups from other energy companies. “All men, though. We could use some female company.”

Gloria was practically drooling on the counter at the prospect of man hunting at the Petro Club. “I’d be happy to come,” she said primly. “Thank you so very much!” She tilted her chin down, angling it toward the swell of her breasts, and fluttered her lashes up at Eric.

“Great.” Eric grinned. “My friends are going to love you.”

“I sure hope so.” Gloria tapped Sarah’s regular order into the register and beamed. “I’ll do my very best to make that happen.”