“Maybe.” He wished Mason had kept his mouth shut.
“Don’t worry; I won’t tell her. I just don’t think you’re going about it in the right way, if it’s true. All this competition.” Regan shook her head. “Sarah gets that from every guy she meets. What she doesn’t get is respect.”
“I respect her.” And he’d told her that, too. From what he’d seen she was a hell of a woman besides being a hell of a soldier. He hadn’t pushed things too far, had he?
He thought about it, running through each competition in his mind. No, he hadn’t gone too far at all. She had to know he wouldn’t challenge her that way if he didn’t respect her capabilities.
He watched her laugh at something Mason had said. Tonight she looked every inch a woman in her wrap-around red dress, her curly hair framing her delicate face. He couldn’t wait to get her alone later.
“Then show it.” Regan led the way into the crowded great room where card tables had been set up and a buffet of snacks and treats lined up on the counter between the living area and kitchen. Dan thought about the contest tonight and what he’d win if his brownies somehow triumphed over hers. His groin tightened at the images that paraded through his mind.
Sure, he’d show Sarah respect. After he beat her at a few more competitions.
Chapter Eight
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“All I’m saying is that more women than men did the taste test. The results were biased.”
Sarah did her best not to laugh as she followed Dan over to the pool table that stood to one side in the Cruz’s large living room. “The results weren’t biased—you don’t put cornstarch in brownies. Everyone knows that.” They’d sat at the same poker table for the first round of games, but both of them had been knocked out by the more experienced Hold ’Em players at the table. Dan had challenged her to a game of pool while they waited, and she’d accepted. He might just get a surprise or two here, as well. She’d played a lot of pool growing up.
They had to wait for another couple to finish their game, however. Rose and Cab Johnson were already playing a rather cutthroat match. Cab Johnson was the local sheriff. Rose was an artist who also ran the local jewelry store.
“I believe that’s your pants,” Cab was saying to Rose as they walked up. He had just sunk the three ball in the corner pocket.
Rose glanced up, saw them and blushed furiously. She shot Cab a meaningful look. Sarah wondered what was going on between them.
When Cab turned around and saw them, he laughed. “Looks like we’re busted.”
“What are you doing?” Sarah asked curiously.
“Don’t you dare tell them,” Rose said to her husband.
“Mum’s the word.” He winked at Sarah and pretended to zip shut his mouth and throw away the key. She had to laugh along with him, more curious than ever. Rose and Cab finished their game quickly and walked away arm and arm.
“I think they just slipped upstairs to make out,” Dan said, craning his neck to see. “What are they, teenagers?”
“You don’t believe in making out?”
“Those two are married—aren’t they supposed to stand on opposite sides of the room and eye each other with disdain?”
“That’s your vision of marriage? Count me out.”
“Ah, so you think when you’re married you’ll want to slip away and make out with your husband?”
“I hope so.” She racked the balls and settled them on the table. She had just cued up to take her first shot when Dan slapped the side of the table. “Strip pool.”
“What?” She straightened up again.
“They were playing strip pool. He said, that was your pants, when he made the shot. They were playing strip pool without actually stripping. I wonder who won?”
“Both of them, don’t you think? At least they’ll both win later when they’re alone.” She bent down again to line up her shot.
“We could play strip pool,” he said, his voice low and suggestive.
His words ran through her like a lightning bolt. That could be fun.
A cheer went up from their old table and Sarah turned to see that the game was over and Ned Matheson, one of the local cowboys, had won.
“Everyone up for another round?” Ethan Cruz called out.
“Guess we’ll have to defer our game.” Dan came to lean against the pool table next to her. He touched her wrist. “How about we reconvene at midnight?”
“We don’t have a pool table at the Hall.” She didn’t think she’d managed to hide her disappointment.
He leaned forward, putting his mouth near her ear. “We’ll improvise.”