Krista McGillicutty stepped off the plane and said a silent prayer of thanks. For two hours, her stomach had been in her throat while the twin-engine plane fought through the clouds over western Wyoming.
Her sister owed her, big time. Stephanie had begged Krista to go on a "vacation" at the Lazy Z Ranch, a dude ranch that specialized in "cattle drives reminiscent of the 1880's." It had taken some intense begging on Krista's part to get her editor at The Seattle Herald to go for it, but in the end, Mr. Anal-Retentive had agreed to pay for the entire trip. . .just as long as she wrote a 'riveting piece' for the newspaper.
Krista winced as she twisted her ankle.
"I hope you brought some other shoes," a masculine voice said from off to her right.
Krista turned to find an attractive man leaning against an old SUV
with the words, Lazy Z Ranch emblazoned on the side. Her gaze shifted from the
decal back to the man with his muscular arms crossed over his equally impressive
chest. Excitement rippled along her spine as she assessed his tall, at least six foot three, built like a brick-shithouse body. He had a strong chin, straight nose, the highest cheekbones she'd ever seen on a man, and amazing forest green eyes. Longish, dark hair curled past the collar of his red and black flannel. Nice, broad shoulders gave way to narrow hips, and long, muscular legs.
Her blood quickened, reminding her of her two years of celibacy.
The cowboy watched her intently, the side of his mouth lifting, as though amused. God, could she be more obvious? Remembering that he'd asked her a question about shoes, she replied, "As a matter of fact, I bought some hikers before the trip."
A dark brow lifted, along with the side of his lip. "You did break them in, right?"
Krista's face grew hot under his stare. "Not exactly."
His lips quirked.
"Has my sister arrived yet?"
"This is it," he said, motioning to the people who had flown in with her on the nail-biting flight, a twenty-something couple, newlyweds who already had their suitcases, waiting for instruction. Next to them, a retired college professor and his wife, a chubby woman who laughed incessantly, reminding Krista of her mother. Then Sam, a man in his mid-thirties who managed a video store and still lived at home. The trip was a gift from his parents -- no doubt a bit of a shove for him to do a bit of soul-searching and move on with his life and out of theirs.
Krista's cell phone rang, startling her out of her musings. "Krista McGillicutty." She swore she saw the cowboy smirk. She abruptly turned her back on him.
"Krista?"
"Steph, where are you?" A long, silent pause followed her question, and Krista's heart sank to her toes. "I repeat, where are you?"
"Promise you won't be mad?"
Krista breathed through her nose and released the breath through her mouth.
"Oh no, you're doing your relaxation breathing. Krista, Ronald wants to work things out, and he thinks that me leaving for three weeks is a bad idea. He said it makes for an uncertain future for us."
"And? Do I need to remind you that Ronald is the same man you found in your bed with your best friend a mere four weeks ago. The same four weeks ago we planned this trip. The very trip that I had to con my boss into because I had to be there for my sister." Despite her effort to remain calm, her voice grew higher with every syllable.
An audible gasp sounded in the vicinity of the dude ranch group. Frankly, Krista didn't care who heard. She had rescheduled her entire life to support her sister, and now her sister who needed her so desperately was not going to show up! She'd kill her.
"That's why I'm here, Steph. You said you needed this break, and I pulled more tricks than a magician to get my boss to go for it. You know how anal he is."
"Kris, I know that Ronald made a mistake. He knows that, and he's talking about marriage --"
"Apparently not a big enough mistake if you're willing to take him back, and what is this about marriage? Come on, Steph, you deserve better than a cheating bastard as a husband." Krista's heart was pounding out of her chest and sweat began to roll off her forehead. She could not believe her sister had bailed on her.
The SUV fired up and Krista looked from the crowd filing in, to the small plane that was taking off. She glanced at the secluded parking lot with a sinking feeling. There were no other planes in sight, or any other vehicles.
"I have to go."
"Kris --"
Krista flipped her phone shut, then turned it off altogether.
"So, I take it that was bad news."
It was the handsome cowboy, and he was walking toward her in long strides. God, even the way he walked was sexy.
"It looks like my sister isn't going to make it." She tried to ignore her intense attraction to this man, who at even close range was downright breathtaking -- and he smelled awesome, like pure, unadulterated masculinity rolled into one oozing ball of sex appeal.
"I'm sorry to hear that." He smiled reassuringly. "I know it's disappointing, but we have a small, tight-knit group, some of whom are waiting for us at the ranch. I'm sure you won't be without companionship. Plus, darlin', there's a lot to do on a cattle drive, so you'll have plenty to keep you busy."
Darlin? She couldn't deny that little endearment felt good. Darn good. Krista nodded, appreciating his help, yet still furious with Stephanie.
"We need to get moving. We're expected back at the ranch by nightfall."
Krista's first inclination was to fly back to Seattle and tell her boss that the cattle drive had been called off. "Is there any way I could get my money back?"
The cowboy shook his head. "Sorry, we have a waiting list. I'm afraid your sister has lost her money. If you choose to leave, then you would give up your money as well. The only way out of it is if you're ill." His gaze left hers to travel down her body, then up again. Something about the slow, intense gaze made her pulse quicken and heat race to her groin. His attention settled just above her breasts, and when he reached out, she nearly jumped back. To her surprise, he lifted the Celtic cross necklace hanging at her neck.
"I have one that's similar." His fingers grazed the sensitive skin of her chest -- so close to the swell of her breasts. The hair on her arms stood on end.
"My grandfather sent it to me from Dublin."
"Does he live there?"
She nodded. "Yeah."
He smiled softly. He was the most gorgeous thing she had ever seen in her life. Suddenly the last thing she wanted to do was leave.
"Well, let's get a move on." He let go of the cross, his fingers hot against her skin before he reached for her brand new top-of-the-line suitcases. She'd been cursing the bulky luggage from the minute she'd had to lug them around Sea-Tac, but the cowboy made them look as light as pillows as he lifted both and swung them into the back of the SUV, his muscles bunching beneath the flannel shirt.
Krista took one glance at the full SUV and said, "I don't think there's enough room in there."
"Sure there is. It has a bench seat. You can sit in the middle."
Within moments, Krista found herself sandwiched in between the professor's wife and the cowboy. She had to straddle the stick shift, a most uncomfortable position, particularly when the cowboy's hand rested on said stick shift. Every time he downshifted, he came into direct contact with her inner thigh. Even if the truck stayed in that gear for miles, his hand remained where it was. He had nice hands -- long-fingered, strong. No doubt they would feel wonderful on her body. Her blood warmed her veins. How long had it been since a man had touched her there? She remembered the night too well. The night her fiancé called off their wedding, right after sleeping with her. She had sworn off intimate relationships from that moment on.
"So, what city you from?" he asked, his voice a nice baritone that brought her quickly out of her musings.
She swallowed past the lump in her throat. "Seattle."
He nodded. "Nice city."
"Yes, it is. How did you know I lived in the city?"
There was that smirk again. "The high heels with your brand new jeans and leather jacket. Dead give away every time. You know the old saying, you can take the girl out of the city, but you can't take the city out of the girl."
Krista was not about to apologize for being a city girl. She'd been in Seattle since she'd graduated from Grady, a small Oregon town, population, thirteen hundred. That had been eleven years ago, and there wasn't a day that went by when she regretted having left. She loved Grady. It held her roots and family, but from the age of fourteen she'd wanted more than what the small town could offer.
Unfortunately, her parents had wanted Krista to stay in Grady, marry the football star, who now worked at his father's appliance store, and live the rest of her days visiting her parents every Sunday after church.
But on a Monday morning she left Grady and hadn't returned.
Shaking away the painful memory, Krista's gaze shifted to the cowboy's jean encased thigh. He certainly knew how to wear a pair of Levi's. Not too tight, not too loose. "What about you, cowboy? Where you from?"
He laughed under his breath. "Born and raised right here in Wyoming. I've always lived on the Lazy Z. It's where I'll die."
Well, so much for a love connection. There wasn't a chance in hell he'd consider moving to Seattle, and she was sure as hell not going to leave the bright lights of the city for a town where every neighbor was at least five miles away. Been there, done that. But what about consensual sex? Who needed an emotional connection when they could enjoy the act itself? A fling. No commitments, and no one got hurt. . . .
