About the Author

New York Times bestseller VICKI LEWIS THOMPSON’s love affair with cowboys started with The Lone Ranger, continued through Maverick, and took a turn south of the border with Zorro. She views cowboys as the Western version of knights in shining armor—rugged men who value honor, honesty and hard work. Fortunately for her, she lives in the Arizona desert, where broad-shouldered, lean-hipped cowboys abound. Blessed with such an abundance of inspiration, she only hopes that she can do them justice. Visit her website at www.vickilewisthompson.com.

Cowboys Like Us
Vicki Lewis Thompson

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Dear Reader,

Writing romance novels is my dream job. And when you’re lucky enough to have a job like that, the years go by like greased lightning!

This is the sixth book in my SONS OF CHANCE series, and I’m grateful for all of you who visit the ranch through my stories. I love hearing from you! You can e-mail me through my website at www.vickilewisthompson.com. Please do!

And finally, thanks to all the readers who’ve helped make Blaze such a roaring success over the years. Here’s to hot heroes and happily- ever-afters!

Yours,

Vicki

To my grandmother, Nellie Sharpe,

a die-hard baseball fan. Your legacy jumped two

generations to live on in your great-granddaughter

Audrey, who eagerly awaits that first crack

of the bat every spring.

Prologue

August 8, 1963 from the diary of Eleanor Chance

NOW THAT JONATHAN’S seventeen and chasing after girls, I decided to find a hobby so I wouldn’t be forever worrying about him. This summer I became a Chicago Cubs baseball fan! I figured that both Jonathan and my dear husband, Archie, would share in this new passion and we’d have some family togetherness listening to the games on the radio here at the Last Chance Ranch.

So much for that idea. Turns out neither of them have the slightest interest in the sport, but I love it! I don’t care if my Cubbies don’t win very often. They’re historic, dating way back, and Wrigley Field is a piece of history, too. Besides, I like the team’s name. Bear cubs are the cutest things ever, and I should know. Here in Jackson Hole we have bears aplenty.

I suppose I could have picked football or basketball, but I don’t understand those rules as well. Baseball has always made sense to me. Hearing the crack of the bat sends a chill down my spine, especially in games like today! Ron Santo hit a home run in the bottom of the tenth to beat the L.A. Dodgers, which is amazing because the Cubs aren’t doing so hot, as usual, and the Dodgers are leading the National League.

When I announced this thrilling victory at dinner tonight, Jonathan and Archie both smiled and said that was nice, but I could tell they don’t give a flip. Too bad for them. They’re missing some great entertainment. I’ve sent away for a Cubs baseball cap. I’m going to wear it, too.

1

Present Day

LOGAN CARSWELL, FORMER catcher for the Chicago Cubs, had two surefire remedies for a troubled mind, and he couldn’t use either one. Booze was out because he’d taken pain meds for his knee so he could dance at Alex Keller’s wedding reception in Shoshone, Wyoming. As for the second method, he didn’t know any of the women in this tiny town well enough.

Eventually, in spite of the meds, his knee began to bother him. Retreating to one of the Spirits and Spurs’s well-worn bar stools, he swiveled to face the dance floor, where Alex was two-stepping with his bride, Tyler. Logan had known him ever since they were both kids living in the same Chicago neighborhood.

Alex had never had trouble getting girls, with his all-American blond good looks. Add to that his natural charisma behind a microphone, and he’d been able to pick and choose. Apparently he’d chosen Tyler, a dark-haired Italian beauty, or she’d chosen him.

Near as Logan could tell watching the happy couple on the dance floor, they were both quite pleased with the situation. Alex was obviously in love and seemed to have his life together at last. Logan should be so lucky. But he refused to allow his problems to cast a shadow over this celebration.

“Can I get you anything, Mr. Carswell?”

Logan swiveled back to the bar and concluded that luck hadn’t totally deserted him. Of the two bartenders working the wedding reception, he’d drawn the girl instead of the guy.

He’d noticed her earlier. She wore her sun-streaked brown hair in a no-nonsense ponytail and didn’t seem to go in for a lot of makeup. Her hazel eyes tilted up slightly at the corners, adding a touch of the exotic to her girl-next-door appeal.

From her enthusiasm and ready smile, he guessed she might be exactly his type—a born optimist. He could sure use a dose of optimism right now.

As he gazed at her, he realized she was looking right back with similar interest. He’d built a night of outstanding sex on less. But Shoshone was a folksy town, and one-night stands wouldn’t go unnoticed around here the way they would in Chicago.

Still, he could flirt with her a little without doing any harm. He tipped back the Stetson that Alex had insisted he buy, along with the requisite jeans, boots and yoked shirt. “I think this is the part where the teetotalling stranger orders a sarsaparilla.” He wished he could remember her name, but if someone had mentioned it, he’d forgotten.

She laughed. “Sorry. Don’t have that. But the root beer is excellent.”

“That’ll do.”

After placing a coaster decorated with a bucking bronco in front of him, she picked up a glass mug. Her nails were short and unpolished, her movements quick and efficient. “How do you like Shoshone so far?”

“Friendly place.”

“We think so.”

He grabbed the first conversational topic he could think of. “Is it true that this bar is haunted?”

“So they say. That’s why it’s called the Spirits and Spurs.” She filled the mug to the top, and foam oozed over the lip. “Personally, I’ve never seen a ghost in here, but some claim they have.”

Logan had never considered root beer foam erotic, but as it slid down the side of the mug, his balls tightened. Not much, but enough for him to register the sensation. Yes, a good romp in the hay with someone cute and personable like this bartender would be therapeutic, but he didn’t give himself much chance of having that any time soon.

She allowed the foam to settle before putting the mug on the coaster. “I’ve never talked to a major league ballplayer before.” She sounded fascinated by the prospect.

Oh, boy. If she had a fantasy image of him as some big celebrity, he needed to nip that in the bud. “I’m afraid you’re not talking to one now, either. I’m out of the game.”

She met his gaze with sympathy in her eyes. “I know. Alex mentioned it. He said if you were still playing, you wouldn’t have been able to come to the wedding.”

“Right.” He managed a smile. “At least some good came out of it.”

“Still, it can’t be easy. But kudos to you for putting on a brave face for the party.”

A knot loosened in his chest. Just kind words from a complete stranger, but they soothed him in a way he couldn’t explain. “No, it’s not.” He rarely admitted that to anyone, because nobody liked a guy who felt sorry for himself. But after tonight, he’d probably never see her again, so letting down his guard was easier.

“Josie said you were a starting catcher for the Cubs.”

That made him smile for real. This adorable bartender didn’t follow the game, or she would have known that fact without getting the info from Josie, Alex’s sister. Logan’s injury had come while defending the plate against a rather spectacular slide into home, and the news clip had been replayed a lot last year.

“Yes, I was a catcher,” he said. At least she wouldn’t be pestering him for gossip about the big-name players. Sure, his ego took a small hit because she wasn’t a fan, but all things considered, he counted it a good thing that she wasn’t.

He decided to extend the friendliness. “So how long have you been tending bar?”

“Not long. I was the restaurant waitress until recently, when Josie asked me to start easing into her job so I’ll be comfortable with it by the time her baby’s born and she has to take time off.”

“You seem comfortable with it now.”

“Only because she sent me to a crash course in bartending.”

Logan nodded. “I know all about those. When I was in the minors, I supplemented my income serving drinks.”

“Yikes. You probably know more about this than I do!”

“Nah. It’s been several years. Excuse me for not remembering, but what’s your name?”

“Caro. Caro Davis.”

“Karo like the syrup?”

“Caro like short for Carolyn. Josie started calling me that a while back, and I like it. I feel more like a Caro than a Carolyn, anyway.”

He thought the shorter name suited her. “Is Josie a good boss?” Logan remembered Josie as a pesky little kid who was constantly tagging after him and Alex. He had a hard time imagining her as a wife and mother-to-be, let alone the proud owner of a cowboy bar in Wyoming. She’d married Jack Chance, the oldest of the three Chance brothers, and seemed blissfully happy living at the Last Chance Ranch, located about ten miles outside town.

Caro grinned at him. “As if I’d tell you if she wasn’t. But she’s great. She managed to promote me to this position without upsetting Tracy, who’s a little young to take over Josie’s job, or Steve, who’s a new hire but knows bartending. Either of them could have resented me getting it. Josie handled it beautifully.”

“Hey, Caro.” The tall guy sharing bartending duties glanced her way. “Orders piling up down here.”

“Be right there, Steve.” She smiled at Logan. “Excuse me. Gotta do my job.”

“You bet.” He watched her walk away, ponytail bouncing. Damn, that smile of hers really cheered him up. He’d love to see more of it. He’d love to … no, he shouldn’t start imagining how her perky self would react in bed. He shouldn’t, but he did.

“Hey, Logan, don’t be hitting on my best employee.” Josie took the bar stool on his left and punched him playfully on the shoulder. She was more dressed up than he’d ever seen her, all blue satin and lace. Instead of braiding her hair in one strand down her back as she usually did, she’d created an upswept arrangement that made her look like a princess.

He winked at her. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Yeah, right. You were sizing her up just now, and don’t try to deny it.”

“Just having some innocent fun.” Thoughts weren’t deeds, right? “By the way, you look terrific, Josie. This Jack character must be treating you right.”

“Don’t try to change the subject.” But her gray eyes, so like Alex’s, sparkled with obvious pleasure at the compliment. “Caro has enough on her plate without having you swoop in and dazzle her with your big-city ways.”

“Big-city ways?” He pressed a hand to his heart. “You make me sound like an operator. I’m wounded.”

“You know what I’m talking about, Logan. A guy can’t live the life you have without picking up a boatload of polish and sophistication.”

“Now that’s more like it.” He winked at her. “Thanks for the compliment, Josie.”

“See, that sly wink is exactly what I’m talking about. And I can tell she’s impressed with you.”

“You think so?” His poor ego could take all the help it could get.

“Don’t mess with her, okay?”

“I had no such plans.” He’d already decided that getting cozy with a local girl would be a mistake. Now Josie was warning him off of this particular one, which was more than enough to cool his jets. He really wasn’t here to cause more problems. He already had enough to handle, like what the hell to do with the rest of his life.

But he couldn’t help being curious about the cute little bartender. “What did you mean when you said she has enough on her plate?”

“It wouldn’t be my place to tell you.”

“Man troubles?”

“No. Listen, take my word for it.” Josie patted his arm. “Caro’s become a close friend in addition to being an employee, so I can tell you with certainty that she doesn’t have time for romance right now, and she especially doesn’t have time for someone who will be gone in a couple of days.”

“Is that when my guest privileges expire?”

She flushed. “Uh … no! You can certainly stay as long as you want. I just thought, with Alex and Tyler leaving on their honeymoon tomorrow, that you’d … well, you’d want to go back to Chicago.”

She had no idea how much he dreaded going home. The season was in the middle of its usual August frenzy, with billboards and TV ads reminding him every ten seconds that some guys were playing ball and he was not. He was thrilled to get away from the unspoken message that he was a washed up has-been at the tender age of thirty-two.

“Well, yeah, I need to get back eventually,” he said. “But I’ve never spent time on a ranch, so I was thinking, as long as I’m out here, I’d like to play cowboy for a few days. Unless I’d be in the way.”

“Of course not. We’d love to have you. Are you thinking about riding?”

He wasn’t sure what he was thinking about, except that the Last Chance felt like a haven, and he could use one. “Riding would be great. I’ll need a little instruction, but—”

“What about your knee?”

“It’s my right knee that’s dicey, and I vaguely remember you mount from the left, so I should be fine.”

Josie smiled at him, understanding in her gray eyes. “You can stay as long as you want, Logan. Glad to have you.”

“I appreciate it.” More than she knew.

“But leave Caro alone.”

“You’ve got it.” And to emphasize his willingness to ignore the lovely bartender, he left his half-full root beer on the bar and held out his hand to Josie. “May I have this dance, Alex’s little sis?”

“Might as well. Can’t drink!”

“That’s right, you’re on the wagon for the next few months. I’ll bet you’re popular as a designated driver these days.”

“I am, at that.” As they arrived at the edge of the dance floor, she moved into his arms. “I must say, you picked up country dancing really fast for a guy raised in the city.”

Logan guided her expertly into the crowd of two-stepping couples. “Thanks. Guess it’s the athlete in me.”

“Guess so.” She twirled under his arm. “The Chance brothers are famous for their dancing. You’re not quite in their league, but given more practice, you could be.”

Logan grinned. “See? I have the boots, the jeans, the hat and the dance moves. I’m halfway to becoming a cowboy already.”

THE RUSH OF DRINK ORDERS finally slowed, but when Caro returned to check on Logan, he’d hit the dance floor with Josie. He’d left his unfinished root beer behind, though, which meant he might be back. She felt a little jolt of excitement as she remembered the way he’d looked at her with obvious interest.

And she’d looked right back. She had no business flirting with anyone right now, but those deep brown eyes temporarily made her forget her obligations. And that, she realized with a pang of guilt, was nice for a change. She just couldn’t let it get out of hand.

Her grandma Bonnie, who had raised her, joyfully and without complaint, deserved all Caro’s free time. Caro had been a baby when her parents divorced, and Bonnie had welcomed her daughter and granddaughter into her house. When Caro was twelve, her mother had died in a blizzard on her way home from work. Grandma Bonnie’s strength had seen Caro through those dark days and taught her that a person had to be resilient to survive life’s tragedies.

Her dad had started a new family by then, but Caro had never seriously considered living with him. She’d stayed with her grandma in the only home she’d ever known. Selling that beloved house so that she could afford assisted living in Jackson for the increasingly frail Bonnie had broken both their hearts.

Caro visited her grandmother every day in hopes she wouldn’t feel abandoned, but she obviously wasn’t happy with the move, necessary though it had been. For the first time since Caro had known her, Bonnie had lost her resilience and optimistic outlook. Caro had to be optimistic enough for both of them.

Lately Caro had done nothing but work and visit her grandma. No wonder she’d been bewitched by a heated glance. Besides, she’d been predisposed to find this ex-baseball player intriguing.

Alex had warned everyone to tread carefully around Logan, whose wicked knee injury had ended his career and the dream he’d cherished from the age of seven. He’d made it to the big leagues and then to the Cubs, the team he’d always wanted to play for. Now he was done.

Caro had never been able to resist a person in need of comfort, a trait she’d picked up from her grandma. Besides, Logan was gorgeous, the kind of gorgeous that made her think of hot nights on cool sheets. Good thing he’d be gone soon. Once Alex and Tyler left on their honeymoon, Logan would have no reason to stay.

She filled several orders while Logan whirled around the dance floor with Josie, but somehow, about the time he returned to his root beer, she happened to be standing at that end of the bar. She hadn’t meant to.

Oh, shoot, yes she had. He was the most exotic man to come her way in quite a while. Mostly she dealt with cowboys. Logan might be wearing the outfit and dancing the two-step like a pro, but he was no cowboy.

Instead, he was a professional athlete from the big city. She didn’t know much about baseball, but she knew Logan was hot.

He settled onto his stool and heaved a sigh. “That’s challenging.”

“But you do it well.” The action of those tight buns on the dance floor had created a serious distraction from her bartending duties.

“Close enough for jazz.” He took a long swallow of his root beer.

“What does that mean?”

He glanced up. “What?”

“Close enough for jazz. I’ve never heard that before.”

“Sorry. It’s something jazz musicians say, meaning that there’s a lot of improv going on when they perform.”

She felt a little bit like a hick, but she was fascinated, nevertheless. Besides, if she kept this conversation going, she’d have an excuse to gaze into those brown eyes. “Chicago’s known for its jazz, I guess.”

“It is. I don’t suppose that’s the kind of music you …”

“Not normally, but I’m always ready to learn something new.” No, that statement wasn’t strong enough. She hungered for something new, something different. She’d lived in Shoshone all her life. Travel had been a luxury she hadn’t been able to afford beyond an occasional trip to Yellowstone.

But this man, who’d jetted around the country for years, represented adventure beyond her wildest dreams. She found that irresistible.

Picking up a bar rag, she began wiping up imaginary spills. “Shoshone must seem small to you after spending so much time in big cities.”

“Actually, it’s a nice break. I can see why Alex is so crazy about the place. The Grand Tetons are amazing.”

“I agree. They are. But I’m sure the Chicago skyline is amazing, too, especially at night.”

“It is,” he said with a decided lack of enthusiasm.

Damn. She felt like an idiot. Of course he wouldn’t want to talk about the wonders of Chicago and be reminded of losing the job he loved. “The Tetons are great, though. Wonderful for hiking. You should—” She groaned as she realized she’d made a mess of this discussion. “But you have a bad knee. You know what? I should just shut up.”

He laughed. “It’s okay. I forget about my knee all the time, until I stay on it too long and it lets me know.”

“Can you ride? Because you could take a horse up into the mountains, if it wouldn’t be too strenuous.” She’d bet he would look terrific mounted on a horse. Yum.

“I’ll have to brush up on my riding skills, but I’ve been thinking about that. Do you ride?”

“I know how, but lately I haven’t had the time.” She refused to allow herself to be resentful of her grandma, but still, a trail ride with Logan would have been fun.

“Caro.” Steve, looking pale, appeared at her elbow. His short buzz cut was dark with sweat. The room was warm, but not that warm. “I hate to do this to you, but my stomach’s going wonky. Feels like food poisoning. I must have eaten something bad earlier today. In any case, I gotta go home.”

She put her hand to her own tummy, which had immediately rolled in sympathy. “That’s terrible. Don’t worry about the bar. Just go home and get better.”

“Thanks. I can take your shift tomorrow if you want.”

“Only if you’re well enough. Get out of here, cowboy.” She sucked in a deep breath as Steve opened the hinged bar top and headed toward the back door. She’d counted on him to get her through this first big event, but she could manage, especially if the party started to wind down soon.

But Murphy’s Law was working against her. The minute Steve left, the band took a break and wedding guests swarmed the bar in search of drinks. Fighting down panic, she squared her shoulders and grabbed an order pad. No way could she keep all those drinks in her head.

“You handle the beer and wine. I’ll mix the drinks.”

She looked up from the order pad and discovered Logan had joined her behind the bar and was already reaching for a couple of martini glasses.

“No, you shouldn’t.” She put a hand on his shoulder—his very warm, very muscled shoulder. Instantly, that heat spread through her body. Whew. “You’re a guest. I’m sure Josie could—”

“She’s the sister of the groom. She shouldn’t have to work tonight. Besides, I want to.” He set the glasses on the counter and gave her a quick glance before picking up a bottle of vodka. “It feels great to be useful for a change.”

She couldn’t argue with that reasoning. Didn’t really want to, actually. If helping her would make him feel better about his lot in life, even for an hour or so, then she couldn’t deny him that. And she’d get the benefit of working side by side with the hottest guy in Shoshone.

“Okay, then,” she said. “But only until it slows down.”

“Right.” He picked up a martini shaker, flipped it high in the air and caught it behind his back.

Someone in the crowd whistled.

Logan winked at Caro. “You know, I’d forgotten how much I used to love this job.”

Oh, baby. He was positively delicious, and Caro was the lucky girl who got to co-bartend with him for an hour or so. She would never wish ill on anyone, but in that moment, she was really glad that Steve had ended up with food poisoning.

2

BEFORE JUMPING IN TO help Caro, Logan had spent a couple seconds weighing the pros and cons. Josie had asked him to stay away from Caro, but then again, Josie hadn’t anticipated Steve getting sick. Logan had seen the panic in Caro’s eyes when the band had stopped playing and the surge toward the bar had commenced.

Finally, deciding Josie shouldn’t have to worry about working tonight, and surely she’d rather have happy customers than obsess about Caro and Logan working together, he’d swung into action. He couldn’t pretend it was a selfless act. He’d told Caro the absolute truth—doing something useful felt fantastic.

And yeah, the idea of being Caro’s heroic savior for an hour or so was very appealing. The looks she gave him generated a sexual buzz he hadn’t felt in quite a while, and he was enjoying the hell out of that.

He promised himself that once the rush subsided, he’d retreat to the other side of the bar. Somehow, the rush never let up. Part of that could be his fault, because he hadn’t been able to resist showing off a little. Besides juggling the martini shaker, he’d built a few flaming drinks, which caused folks to order more so they could watch the process.

And damn, he was having a good time. He was also impressing the girl. He’d caught her staring a few times, although she didn’t allow herself to be distracted from her work. For two people who’d never bartended together before, they managed with a minimum of bumping into each other.

That was a good thing, because whenever he accidentally brushed up against her, he registered exactly how soft and curvy she was. That message went straight to his groin.

She also smelled of lemons, which might be her perfume or might be the lemons she’d been cutting before he took over the cocktail part of the bar duties. Whatever the reason, the scent fit her personality, which was fresh, bright, and sexy as hell.

Once in a while his knee gave him a twinge, but then he’d take his weight off his right leg and be okay again. He was grateful for that, because the party showed no signs of letting up, even after Alex and Tyler left in a shower of birdseed. One o’clock came and went. Most bars closed then, but this one was owned by the sister of the groom, and she didn’t seem ready to kick people out.

Caro slipped past him holding two brimming mugs of beer. “I’m worried about your knee,” she said.

“Don’t be.” He garnished a cosmo. “I’m fine.”

“I’m not sure I believe you.”

“Working back here is a hell of a lot easier than dancing.” He delivered the cosmo and came back with a couple dirty glasses. “Besides, I’m enjoying the company.” He probably shouldn’t have said that, but it wasn’t as if he planned to ask her out.

“Me, too.” She sent him a dazzling smile.

That made him feel good, probably too good. He wondered what she had going on in her life that kept her from dating. She seemed like someone who was worth getting to know, on many levels, but they were too busy for him to ask any questions.

Around two, the crowd finally began to thin, and Josie came to sit at the bar.

“Can I get you something?” Logan asked.

“No, thanks, but I owe you a huge debt for filling in tonight. I hope you haven’t stressed your knee.”

“I’m fine.”

“I’d forgotten you used to tend bar, but Alex reminded me after he saw you back here flipping martini shakers around.”

“I had fun.” Working in close proximity with Caro had been ninety percent of that fun, but he’d keep that fact to himself.

“I could tell. Anyway, we’re all about to head back to the ranch, and most everyone else is ready to call it a night, too. Or technically, I guess we have to call it a morning.”

Logan took stock of the remaining dirty glasses, popcorn baskets and crumpled napkins lining the bar and grouped on the tables. “It was some party, Josie.”

“It was. Alex and Tyler deserved a blowout, so I’m glad we did it up right. When you’re ready, I’ll give you a ride back, along with my slightly toasted husband.”

Logan gestured around the room. “Do we need to take care of the final cleanup?”

“We probably should, at that.” Josie straightened her shoulders. “You’re right. I don’t want to leave this for the morning crew.”

“Or you can let Caro and me handle it.” He made the suggestion casually, but there was nothing casual about his intentions. He wanted to be alone with the lovely Caro Davis.

“I can do it, Logan,” Caro said immediately. “No worries. Go home and rest your knee.”

“My knee’s fine.” Logan started gathering glasses. “I want to stay and help get this cleaned up. It won’t take long.”

Jack Chance wandered over and hooked an arm around Josie. “Ready to take off?”

“Not quite,” Josie said. “I really need to—”

“No, you don’t,” Caro said. “Go home, Josie.”

“I hate to leave you with this.” She surveyed the room. “It’s too bad that Steve—”

“Well, he isn’t here,” Logan said, “and I’d really like to help out. Besides, maybe one of the fabled ghosts will show up.”

“It could happen.” Josie looked perfectly serious. “I’ve often seen them after a bash like this.”

“Ghosts or no ghosts,” Jack said, “I need to get my pregnant wife home. I have a suggestion. Let Logan stay and help, and then he can crash at Grandma Judy’s.”

Josie turned to him. “I’m not sure about that, Jack. Do you think your grandmother will—”

“She’ll love the idea. She’s always complaining that nobody uses her guest room. Let me borrow your pen, Caro.” He picked up a napkin from a stack on the bar and sketched a quick map for Logan. “Here’s where she lives. When we drop her off we’ll make sure she leaves a key under the mat. The guest room is down the hall to your right.”

Josie took one last look at the debris left by the wedding guests and sighed. “Okay. There’s probably some fatal flaw in that plan, but I’m too tired to think of anything better, and I do hate to leave Caro alone with this huge mess.”

“And the ghosts.” Logan tucked the napkin with the map into his pocket, and did his best to sound nonchalant when he felt anything but. He wondered if Caro was anticipating some alone time as much as he was.

“And the ghosts,” Josie said with a smile.

“Thanks, Logan.” Jack stuck out his hand and the two men shook. “I’ll drive in tomorrow morning and pick you up.”

“Sounds good.”

“Josie said you’d like to stay on for a few more days and do some riding.”

“I’d like that, but I’m a little rusty.”

“Anybody with your athletic ability shouldn’t have any trouble.” Jack touched the brim of his hat with two fingers. “See you tomorrow.”

“That was very gallant of you,” Caro said as the last of the wedding guests disappeared out the front door. “You must be exhausted.”

He turned to her. “No more so than you, I’ll bet.” He took note of the wisps of hair that had escaped her ponytail and now curled around the nape of her neck. Any lipstick she might have applied earlier in the evening was gone. She looked infinitely kissable.

Her hazel eyes were bright, as if she might be feeling some of the same excitement he was. “Yes, but I’m paid to do this. You’re not.”

“You want to know something really sad? Getting paid isn’t an issue for me anymore. I’ve invested a good chunk of the money I earned while playing with the Cubs, and unless I start buying yachts and staying in hotels that charge several grand a night, I won’t ever have to work again.” That was all true, but he might have said it to impress her. Hell, sure he had.

It obviously did, because her eyes widened. “But that’s not sad, that’s wonderful.”

Her honest reaction demanded honesty in return. “You would think so, wouldn’t you? But in reality, it’s kind of depressing. I have no reason to go out and hustle anymore.”

“You could do all sorts of volunteer things, take charge of some cause or other, travel—”

“I could, and I probably will look into a charitable cause, but I’m not much of an administrator. That doesn’t get me excited. Helping people, yeah, I’d like that. But the thought of being the one in charge gives me hives.” He hadn’t meant to discuss this, but talking to someone who had no vested interest in his future seemed to loosen his tongue.

“What a fascinating problem to have, deciding what to do with money and free time.” She walked over to the wall and put her hand on a bank of switches.

“I suppose it sounds lame to call that a problem.”

“Not if you’re used to being busy. Get ready. Bright lights.”

He blinked. In the glare from the overhead lights the mess looked even worse. “This would be more fun with the lights off.”

She glanced over her shoulder, a definite invitation in her eyes. “That’s true of a lot of things.”

He met her gaze. He knew that look, and instantly his cock responded. Okay then. “Oh, I don’t know. Sometimes I like to see what I’m doing.”

She turned back to him with a seductive smile. “Is that when you’re not very sure of yourself?”

“On the contrary.” Lust was quickly obliterating the memory of any warnings Josie had given him. “The more confident I am, the more light I want on the subject.” He paused. “How about you?”

She swallowed, and her cheeks grew pink. “Personally, I like to retain a little mystery.”

“That can be exciting, too.” He’d instinctively drifted closer. If he kissed her now, they wouldn’t get any cleaning done.

As if realizing the same thing, Caro cleared her throat and glanced away. “It’s getting late.” Pulling a plastic bin from under the counter, she lifted the hinged lid of the bar. “I’ll clear if you’ll wipe up after me.”

He followed her out through the opening and got a grip on the bin. “I’ll clear and you wipe up. You’re the brains of this operation. I’m just the muscle.”

Her laugh had a breathless quality that told him she was very aware of the sparks flying between them. She let him have the bin. “If that makes you happy, knock yourself out. I’ll get a damp towel. Just know that I can balance a full tray of drinks on one hand, so I’m no wimpy girl.”

“So you’re the brains and the muscle.” He loaded glasses, popcorn baskets and used napkins into the bin while she followed behind and wiped off the tables. “How am I supposed to impress a girl who has everything?”

“Those flaming drinks were pretty darned impressive. I know you don’t need a job, but I’ll bet Josie would love to hire you. Oh, wait. You might take my job, and unlike you, I need the money, so forget that idea.”

She’d just handed him a golden opportunity to ask why Josie had said she was off-limits. He cleared the last table and headed back toward the bar. “So how come you don’t have time to go riding these days?”

“My grandmother’s in assisted living, and whenever I’m not working, I visit her.”

“You mean, every day?” Logan thought of his two grandmothers, plus two grandfathers, all living back in Chicago. His folks and his younger brother, Jeff, lived there, too. He saw his grandparents maybe six or seven times a year. He didn’t see any of his relatives daily.

“Yes, I go every day. But I’m sure you don’t want to hear about this.”

“Yes, I do. Come back into the kitchen while I stack the dishwasher, and tell me about it.”

“It’s not all that interesting. You go on. I’ll start putting up the chairs.”

He rested the bin against the counter. “Why don’t you want to tell me?”

“Because it’s boring.” She picked up a chair and turned it upside down on a table, and followed that with another chair, and another.

“I don’t think so.”

“I do.” She stacked chairs in rapid succession. “I love my grandmother more than anyone in the world, but there are times when worrying about her is a real buzzkill.” She paused, her hand on the back of a chair. Then she turned to him with a stricken expression. “Did I just say that? I must be a horrible person to say something like that.”

He smiled gently. “Not a horrible person. Just a person who needs to get out more. And I don’t mean to the assisted living facility.”

She shook her head. “I can’t. She knows my schedule, and she expects me to come whenever I’m not working. I need to be there for her. I want to be there for her.”

“That’s pretty intense. Can’t you back off from that a little bit?”

“Eventually I hope to, once she’s back to her usual sunny self. These first few months have been rough on her. I had to move her out of her house and sell it to pay for this place, because she needs constant medical supervision. It was the only answer.”

Josie might be annoyed, but Logan thought of his next move as a good deed. “Didn’t Steve say he’d take your next shift?”

“He did, but he might not feel up to it.”

“Then again, he might. When is it?”

“Three to eleven, but he looked pretty sick to me.”

“If it’s food poisoning, he could be over it by tomorrow. And if he can take your shift, then you could go riding with me at the Last Chance. Your grandmother would never know.” He would explain to Josie that her best employee was about to blow a gasket if she didn’t get some recreation into her routine. Surely Josie would understand.

Caro hesitated. “I have to admit that sounds nice.”

“Of course it does. Taking a trail ride was your suggestion in the first place.”

“Josie and Jack have told me anytime I want to come out and ride, I’m more than welcome.”

“There you go.” His excitement grew as he imagined spending hours with her out on the trail. No doubt he’d end up saddle sore, but it would be worth it to watch her soaking up the sunshine and fresh air. And maybe a long trail ride could turn into a private little … But he didn’t want to get ahead of himself.

“Now I’m really hoping Steve recovers.”

“Me, too.” Logan was prepared to find another replacement if Steve was still on the disabled list. He’d plead Caro’s case to Josie and see what could be done. “Now let’s finish cleaning so you can go home and get some sleep.” He tossed that last part out on purpose, to see if she had any plan to linger around … with him.

“Okay.” She started stacking chairs on tables again. “Fortunately, I don’t have to go far. Josie’s renting me her old apartment upstairs.”

That info flashed in neon lights in his hormone-soaked brain. So her bedroom was right over their heads. “That’s convenient.” He picked up the bin full of glasses and headed into the kitchen.

As he loaded the commercial dishwasher, he fought with his conscience. He’d pictured some time alone, maybe a few kisses, some fondling. But her bedroom was right upstairs.

He probably shouldn’t go there, even if he could work it so nobody ever had to know but the two of them. Then again, she might have mentioned it on purpose, hoping he’d take the hint. She might not have time for a relationship, but was there anything wrong with some good old-fashioned sex?

He sighed. Josie had specifically requested that he put on the brakes, and he was considering flooring it. She was obviously protective of Caro, and Logan admired that. But should Josie be the one to decide what happened between Caro and him? Or should she be allowed to choose for herself?

So much hinged on Caro’s attitude. After spending several hours working with her, he saw her as upbeat and levelheaded, not the sort of woman who would expect one fun night together meant wedding bells.

He started the dishwasher and walked back out into the bar, where Caro wielded a push broom with gusto. The rapid motion made her breasts quiver under her red checked Western shirt. From her complete concentration, someone might conclude that the fate of the world rested on getting every last bit of debris off the floor.

Logan had always admired hustle, but he knew she must be tired. “I’d be glad to finish that up if there’s something else you need to do to close the place down.”

“Not really.” She kept sweeping, her gaze focused intently on the job, her fingers clenched around the broom handle. “As you noticed, it was an open bar tonight, which was Josie and Jack’s gift to the happy couple, so I don’t have to tally any receipts.”

“Want me to take out the trash?”

She shook her head and kept working. “It’s better to put it out in the morning. Once in a while we have bears come through at night.” She looked up. “We’re basically done, Logan. Thanks so much. You can head on over to Judy’s place if you want.” She put her head down and continued to sweep as if her life depended on it.

“Trying to get rid of me?”

She stopped in midsweep and gazed at him. “No, but I’ll bet you’re exhausted.”

“Funniest thing, but I’m not particularly sleepy.”

“Oh.” She started sweeping again, but her motions were slower. “Then if you don’t mind getting the small broom and that long-handled dustpan, I’d appreciate it.”

“I can do that.” He found them over in a corner and began gathering up the piles she’d made and dumping everything into a plastic-lined trash can.

“Logan, do you have a girlfriend?”

He almost choked on his answer. “No.” He could think of only one reason for that question. He cleared his throat so he could elaborate as he continued to scoop up trash. “I was dating someone, but it turned out she wasn’t crazy about going out with an ex-baseball player.”

“Ouch.”

He glanced over at Caro. “Actually, it was one of the good things about leaving the game. She had a chance to show her true colors.” He paused. “Do you have a boyfriend?” From Josie’s comments, he was fairly sure she didn’t, but he might as well make certain.

She leaned on the broom. “I used to. Curtis got tired of me not being available because of my grandma. We broke up about six months ago.” She took a deep breath. “Quite obviously, I’m not girlfriend material at the moment. There’s no room in my life for a man.”

Logan nodded, as if they were discussing the weather. “I understand completely.”

“But …”

“Yes?” Dear God, he hoped this conversation was leading where he thought it was.

She opened her mouth, and then closed it again. When she finally spoke, the words came out in a rush. “Would you be interested in coming up for a nightcap?” Her cheeks were pink but her gaze was steady.

His heart thudded in anticipation, but he wanted to be sure this was what she really wanted. “You must be tired.”

Her hazel eyes grew dark and her breathing quickened. “Not that tired.”

Dear God, she wanted him in her bed. Only a fool would pass up a chance like this, and Logan was no fool. “Then yes. Yes, I would love a nightcap.”

3

CARO COULDN’T QUITE believe she’d just invited Logan Carswell, big league baseball star, up to her apartment. Even more unbelievable, he’d accepted. Eagerly. She’d acted on pure instinct, and apparently her instincts were on target. They wanted each other.

The old nightcap routine was as transparent as ever. He had to know as well as she did why they were going up there. And unless Logan walked around with condoms in his wallet, he needed to make a trip into the Spirits and Spurs men’s room. After Curtis had dumped her, she’d taken the remaining condoms out of the medicine cabinet and cut them up with a pair of scissors as part of some silly ritual to proclaim her new celibacy.

Once Logan left town, whenever that turned out to be, she’d be celibate again, at least until her grandmother regained her former spirit. But opportunity had pounded on the door in the person of Logan Carswell, wounded athlete. Caro was more than ready to give up her mental chastity belt and embrace that opportunity to have a little fun.

Logan dumped one final dustpan’s worth in the trash. “Is that it?”

“Yes.” Her heart raced. “I’ll put the brooms away in the kitchen if you’ll …” She found herself unable to finish the sentence. Inviting him up to her place on the flimsy pretext of a nightcap was one thing. Telling him to patronize the vending machine in the men’s room was a whole new level of chutzpah.

“If I’ll what?” He met her gaze. “Oh.” Understanding registered in his brown eyes. “Guess I’ll just duck into the bathroom for a minute.”

“Okay.” Her cheeks felt warm with embarrassment as she grabbed both brooms and the long-handled dustpan. She fumbled and dropped the push broom. The handle banged against the floor.

Before she could retrieve it, Logan reached for it in one fluid motion and held it toward her. “Here you go.”

“Thanks. I’ll be right back.” What a doofus she must seem to a guy with his sophistication. Here she was, dropping brooms and sending him after condoms. She wondered if the women in Chicago always had supplies on hand before they impulsively asked someone up for a nightcap. Probably.

Well, she was a small-town girl from Shoshone. Besides, she’d been pissed at Curtis, and cutting up the condoms had seemed justified at the time. She’d wanted to destroy something, and that had been the best target for her anger.

Logan hadn’t returned by the time she walked back into the bar. Her hands trembled slightly as she pulled her keys out of her pocket and locked the back door. Then she doused all the lights except for the soft ones that Josie left on for security purposes, although crime was unlikely in Shoshone.

The dim light helped calm her a little, but if Logan didn’t come out soon, she was seriously going to lose her nerve. She’d almost made up her mind to cancel the plan when she heard the door to the men’s room open. Then she heard it swing shut again.

She gulped. It was put up or shut up time.

He walked toward her. “Seen any ghosts yet?”

“Nope.” She wondered how many condoms he’d bought and if that was what had taken him so long, but she wasn’t about to ask.

“What kind of ghosts are they supposed to be?”

“Cowboy ghosts, of course.” She could barely hear herself speak over the thundering of her heart in her ears. “Have you heard of the old song ‘Ghost Riders in the Sky’?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“They call these guys ‘ghost drinkers in the bar.’”

He laughed. “I like that. I almost wish one would show up, but not enough to hang around waiting.”

So he wanted to get on with it. Gulp. “Like I said, I’ve never seen one myself.” Her chest felt as if somebody had tightened a cinch around it. She’d never done anything like this before. Usually she got to know someone over a period of weeks or months before she progressed to this step.

But if she wanted Logan, and she did, then she had to woman up and direct him to her apartment. “We’ll have to g-go outside,” she said. “The s-stairs to my apartment are on the outside of the building.” Damn. She never stuttered.

“Caro.” He laid a gentle hand on her arm.

“What?” She whirled to face him, nearly stabbing him in the chest with her keys.

He rubbed her arm. “You don’t have to go through with this if it makes you nervous.”

“But I want to.” And now that he’d touched her—on purpose, and not accidentally while they’d been working together—she really wanted to. Nervous though she might be, she yearned for him in a way that was shocking in its intensity.

His voice dropped to a soft murmur. “You’re sure?”

Her answer came from some deeply buried part of herself, one that she’d never allowed to surface. “Kiss me and you’ll find out how sure I am.”

“Good idea.” His grip tightened on her arm and he guided her forward while he cupped the back of her head with his other hand, fingers spread.

She stopped breathing, stopped thinking, stopped noticing anything but his mouth as he drew her closer. He had a beautiful mouth, sculpted enough to be masculine, full enough to be sensual. She closed her eyes and trembled in anticipation.

“I’ve wanted to do this all night.” His breath was warm on her lips. He brushed her mouth with his. “You’re shaking.”

“I know.”

His lips stroked over hers again. “It’ll be okay.”

“I know.”

Then he settled in, and it was more than okay.

His kiss was velvet and sleek, rich and luxurious, slow and sweet. He savored her mouth as if tasting expensive brandy served in a crystal goblet. She had never felt so cherished.

Her keys clattered to the floor as she took his head in her hands. She wanted more. She wanted everything. Angling her mouth over his, she invited him deeper. He accepted the invitation with a firm thrust of his tongue.

Yes. She whimpered and he pulled her in close, sliding his arm around her waist and pressing her against his very hard, very aroused body as he continued to kiss the living daylights out of her.

Dear heaven, he really was a professional athlete, with all the toned muscles that job required. She’d known that intellectually, but experiencing it physically was more exciting than she’d imagined. She stroked his supple back, his broad shoulders, his tight buns.

With a groan he lifted his head and gazed down at her in the dusky light. His voice was hoarse. “You’ve convinced me. Let’s go.”

She struggled to breathe.

Releasing her, he scooped up her keys as if fielding a baseball, and put them in her hand. “If we don’t get out of here right now, we’ll never make it up there.”

“Then let’s go.” She moved toward the front door on unsteady legs. As she opened it, she thought she heard soft laughter coming from somewhere behind her. She turned. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing.”

“Didn’t you laugh just now?”

“No. I thought it was the door hinge.”

She paused, playing the sound over again in her head. “Guess so.” It hadn’t been a door hinge, but she wasn’t going to go ghost-hunting tonight. She had more important things on her mind.

SMALL-TOWN GIRLS PACKED a sensual punch, Logan concluded as he fought to stay cool while climbing the narrow set of stairs behind Caro. Her hot little body sang a siren’s song with every creak of the steps. He swore steam was coming off her denim-clad fanny.

Although he hadn’t indulged himself with a woman recently, in the past he’d been involved with sophisticates who dressed in expensive lingerie, women who were into sex toys and flavored body paint. Not a single one had turned him on the way Caro had with her blushing request for vending-machine condoms.

When she’d invited him to kiss her, he’d gone up in flames. Where had she learned to talk like that? When she paired her down-home cuteness with sex-kitten suggestions, she became an irresistible combo of sweetness and sin that made him wild for her.

He’d bought three condoms, and those had been hard-won. Despite a few whacks with his fist, the machine hadn’t wanted to cooperate. He’d finally decided three would do. He still wanted to end the night in Grandma Judy’s guest room, for appearance’s sake.

Now he wondered if three would be enough, after all. He might not be able to force himself to leave before dawn, and he was a real fan of sex in the morning.

Caro reached the landing and seemed to have lost her jitters, because she opened the door without fumbling. He took the last two steps in one leap and followed her inside, his heart hammering and his johnson aching.

She hit a switch beside the door and a floor lamp in one corner illuminated a small living room on the right and a tiny kitchen on the left. Both were spotless, with cozy touches like gingham curtains at the kitchen window and colorful throw pillows on the leather sofa.

As he clicked the lock on the front door, she turned to him. “I could offer—”

“Just you.” He tossed his hat like a Frisbee toward the sofa. He didn’t look to see if it had landed as he pulled her into his arms. “Offer yourself, and I’ll be a happy man.”

“I can do that.” Sliding out of his arms, she backed toward the hallway. “Follow me.”

“You’ve got it.”

“First, the shirts.” She took hold of her lapels and pulled. Snaps popped like cap guns, and the cotton bra covering her pert breasts didn’t fool him in the least. She might not be wearing something obviously sexy, but he saw the fire in her hazel eyes. She was a volcano ready to erupt.

He was so busy looking at what her open shirt revealed that he didn’t follow orders.

“Your shirt, Logan.”

He sure as hell didn’t want to hold up the program. He wrenched open his shirt, shrugged out of it and tossed it to the floor as he continued down the hall.

At the doorway to her bedroom, she reached for another switch, and lamps on twin nightstands winked on. “You said you liked light.”

“I do.” He gestured toward her bra. “Are you going to take that off, or shall I?”

She backed into the room with a soft smile. “I will.” She reached behind her back to unhook it. “You’ve had a long night.”

“Wouldn’t trade it for the world.” He started to unbuckle his belt, but his hands stilled as she slipped off her bra. She might prefer cotton, but breasts as full and perfect as hers deserved designer silk. Her wine-colored nipples puckered under his gaze.

His fingers flexed and he took a step closer. “I want—”

“And you’ll have.” She backed to the other side of the small room, putting the bed between them. “But I can take off my clothes faster than you can.” She waved at him. “Continue with what you were doing.”

He had to laugh. She was the most logical little sexy thing he’d ever come across. He had to admit she was right, especially when it came to dealing with belts and boots.

He tried to be quick about it, he really did. He managed to pull off his boots, but after that, she became a major distraction. When she leaned down to take hers off, her breasts quivered enticingly.

Then she began to wiggle out of her jeans, causing more breast shimmy. The soft denim caught on the elastic of her panties and they came off along with the jeans. She stood naked before him, and that required his undivided attention.

As she pulled the scrunchie from her ponytail and shook her hair free, she glanced over and caught him staring. “You’re still mostly dressed.”

He swallowed. “And you’re not.” He’d suspected she’d be fine to look at, but hadn’t realized she’d look this fine. Maybe country living made a woman’s skin glow like that. Or maybe—and this was an ego-boosting thought—she was flushed with desire for him.

In any case, she was radiant, as if someone had buffed her body until it gleamed with rosy good health. He stood mesmerized, his glance traveling over the wonders he longed to touch, to taste, to lose himself in. No body piercings for this woman. No Brazilian wax, either. A neat triangle of light brown curls awaited him.

She cleared her throat, which snapped him out of his daze long enough to get rid of his jeans and his knit boxers. He had to work both of them over an erection that felt bigger than the Hancock Building. He was gratified when she sucked in a breath. Nice to be noticed.

She’d stood still while he looked, so he afforded her the same privilege. This was the first time—and maybe the last time—they would see each other without clothes. They should make it count.

He wished he was in better physical shape, but his knee had kept him from the full workouts he was used to. Her breathing picked up as she studied him, though, and he kind of thought she liked what she saw. Her gaze lingered on the purple scar where he’d had knee surgery.

Surgery hadn’t put him back in the game, but at least he could walk without hobbling. In fact, he could dance for short stretches, a fact he’d proven tonight. He’d told himself to be grateful for that much.

“Looks painful,” she said.

“It is, and I’m not talking about my knee.”

Her mouth tilted in a smile. “Cute.”

“I prefer the term impressive.”

She laughed and flung back the covers, which included a colorful patchwork quilt. “Are you fishing for compliments, Carswell?”

“Yes.”

“Then let me just say that UPS would likely slap a surcharge on that package of yours.” She climbed into bed and stretched out, facing him. “Gonna deliver it?”

“Yeah.” He was really starting to like her, and that could be a problem. He might want to remind himself, beginning now, that this was only temporary. “Special delivery, overnight male.”

4

CARO WAS PROUD OF HERSELF for keeping the tone light. She’d never had a one-night stand, and this was shaping up to be her first try at it. If so, she wanted to make sure the mood was carefree and playful, not intense and sordid.

So far, so good. Logan was following her lead, and as he climbed into her bed, she told herself not to mentally record this moment and think it was significant, because it wasn’t. Yes, his body was incredible. He was the most muscular guy she’d ever seen naked, not counting marble statues or issues of Playgirl.

He was so ripped that she felt a little intimidated, as if she were about to take a ride on a monster roller coaster and wasn’t sure if she’d chicken out before it began. Could she keep up with all that energy and power? She was willing to try.

Her body was more than willing. From her first glimpse of his spectacular endowments, moisture had collected between her thighs and her womb had contracted. Natural instinct had taken over, demanding that she join with him in the most basic way.

So she’d take this wild ride, but she’d better not get used to having a hard body in her bed. She’d look into his sexy eyes, which reminded her of dark chocolate, but wouldn’t set that shade of brown as her new standard. His mouth not only looked sensual, she knew from experience that it felt even better. Still, she couldn’t get attached to his kisses, either.

What was about to happen between them was an unexpected gift, a moment stolen from each of their regularly scheduled lives.

Then he looked into her eyes, and she was caught by surprise at the warmth and caring in his gaze. When he touched her, all her promises to stay objective shattered. He could have grabbed her. With all their banter, he would have been justified in rolling her onto her back and having his way with her.

Instead, he skimmed the tips of his fingers over her cheek with such tenderness that her throat tightened.

“I want you so much I can barely stand it,” he said. “But before this gets hot and heavy, and I can guarantee it will, I wanted to say … thank you.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Shouldn’t I be thanking you? I’m sure you can get girls by snapping your fingers. I’m the one who’s in a sexual wasteland.”

He smiled. “I’ve been in a wasteland of my own making, bogged down in self-pity. This …” He paused to sweep his hand over the bed. “This feels as if you just tossed me a lifeline.”

“I’d say ‘anytime,’ but we both know that’s not possible.”

He cupped her face with one hand. “So let’s make the most of right now.” But his kiss was slow and easy, as if they had all the time in the world. Leisurely, he combed his fingers through her hair and nibbled his way from her mouth to the curve of her neck. “You smell like lemons.”

“Homemade lemon juice hair spray.” She shivered as he ran his tongue along her collarbone.

“Love it.” His virile body was inches from hers, yet his mouth and fingertips were the only contact points between them.

Tension wound tight within her. She tamped it down, fighting for the kind of control he seemed to have. In an attempt to mirror his restraint, she slid her fingers across his lightly furred chest. She’d meant to keep her caress as soft as his, but oh, the muscles on this man!

She flattened her palm against the most magnificent pecs she’d ever touched. Her breath caught as she absorbed the heat and power, and imagined his body poised over hers.

The ache that had been building ever since he’d first kissed her threatened to overwhelm her good manners. She was fast approaching the point where she was liable to move her hand lower, latch on to the object of her desire and demand that he use it immediately. That would not be classy.

“Logan?” She heard the desperate note in her voice and couldn’t do anything about it.

“Uh-huh.”

“Um, do you know where your condoms are?”

“Yes.” He sounded amused.

“I don’t mean to rush you, but …”

He chuckled softly, his breath warm against her shoulder. “Caro, I didn’t want to rush you. I’m not a small guy, and I didn’t want to hurt you because you weren’t ready.”

“I’m beyond ready, Logan. Rushing sounds like a wonderful idea.”

He raised his head, his dark eyes sparkling with lust and laughter. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Thank you.” She curled her hands into fists and squirmed with impatience as he rolled to the far side of the bed, snatched up his jeans and rummaged in the pocket. The sound of ripping foil was music to her ears.

When he came back, he was ready for action. “No more foreplay, then?”

She shook her head and held out her arms. “Main event, please.”

“God, Caro.” He moved over her, his breathing ragged. “You are some kind of woman.” Bracing himself on one arm, he reached between her thighs. “But I still need to make sure you’re—”

“Logan.” She squeezed her eyes shut and arched off the bed as his probing fingers nearly made her come. She’d never wanted a man so much that she was dizzy with anticipation.

He groaned softly. “You weren’t kidding.”

“No.” She opened her eyes and met his gaze as she cupped his firm bottom. “Now.”

“With pleasure.” He thrust forward and gasped. “God, that feels good.”

Good didn’t begin to cover what she was feeling. Pressing her fingers into the muscles of his backside, she closed her eyes again. The rightness of this connection stunned her. She’d imagined that sex with Logan would be nice, but she hadn’t counted on this … perfection.

He leaned down and brushed his mouth against hers. “You okay?”

“Fabulous,” she murmured.

“You’re so still.”

She looked up at him. “I’m just …” Overjoyed? Ecstatic? No, she couldn’t say that.

“Don’t worry. I’ll go slow. Let you get used to me.” He eased back and slid forward in a gentle motion.

That was all it took. She gasped as the first spasm hit.

His eyes widened. “Caro? Are you …?”

“Yes … yessss.” A powerful orgasm arced through her, leaving her shuddering and breathless.

His voice was low and intense. “Okay, then.” His buttocks flexed beneath her fingers as he began a steady rhythm that urged her quivering body to tighten once again. He gazed down at her, his dark eyes gleaming with purpose. “I think you’re used to me.”

“Uh-huh.” Her breath caught as he shifted his angle to penetrate even deeper.

He paused and gulped for air. “Still okay?”

“Mmm.” She wrapped her legs around him, opening herself in complete surrender. “Don’t …”

He frowned in obvious concern. “Don’t?”

“Don’t stop.” She smiled up at him.

“Caro, you’re …” He dragged in more air. “Amazing.”

Logan’s movements took on new authority as his forceful thrusts propelled them forward. Gradually he increased the pace, urging both of them toward the brink.

Caro abandoned herself to his rhythm as they rocked faster, and faster still, and then … heat flooded through her, brilliant, golden and intense. Through the haze of her climax she heard him cry out, and he surged forward. She absorbed his orgasmic shudders with a laugh of pure delight.

This had been an outstanding idea.

LOGAN FELT THE RIPPLE of laughter caress his happy penis. He’d never had any woman laugh at the end of sex with him, but was beginning to understand that Caro was unique. Once he had enough breath in his lungs to form a sentence, he nuzzled her ear. “Do you usually laugh after sex?”

She laughed again. “No.”

“Should I be honored or insulted?”

“Honored, for sure. I couldn’t help it. I’m so happy.”

He raised his head and peered down at her. Sure enough, she looked content. Her eyes sparkled and her skin was flushed with obvious pleasure. He’d like to claim credit for that, but he had a hunch Caro was pretty easy to please. Still, she had said she didn’t usually laugh.

“So what brought on this happy laughter?”

She stroked his back. “Well, because I’ve never invited a man I just met into my bed, I wasn’t absolutely sure it would work out well. But it did, didn’t it?”

“That’s an understatement.” He loved the way she touched him—not too light and not too heavy. Not everyone was good at that.

“See? We took a chance on each other and had a terrific time. We even managed a mutual climax, and that doesn’t always happen, especially the first time with someone.”

“That’s true.” She was adorable—and that tug at his heart should serve as a warning to be careful. But he wouldn’t have much luck distancing himself while he was this close to her sweet, sunny self. He’d work on the distancing thing later, maybe on the plane ride home.

In the meantime, he planned to soak up as much of this therapy as he could, and give her some in return. “I’d have to say that was the best first-time sex I’ve ever had.”

“Me, too. Hands down. Which is a good thing, because we needed to get it right the first time, all things considered.”

“Yeah, not much time to practice.” But he was willing to work in whatever practice they could. She ought to have some input on that plan, though. “Especially if you want to get some sleep before morning comes.”

She switched from stroking his back to fondling his chest. “Are you sleepy?”

He wondered if she’d ever studied massage. Her touch was magic. “I asked you first.”

“All right, then I’ll be honest. I want to come at least once more before morning does. That is, if you have another condom available.”

He grinned. “I have two more.”

“Excellent.”

“I would have bought more than that, but the machine wasn’t very cooperative.”

“It probably needs maintenance. I’ll bet nobody would report it to Josie or me. A guy might tell Steve, but it’s not like some cowboy would come up to me and say the condom machine is malfunctioning. It’s kind of a prob—”

He cut her off with a quick kiss. “Let’s not worry about it. I have two more, and if you’ll direct me to your bathroom …”

“Across the hall.”

He eased away from her and left the bed. “Be right back.” The moment he put his weight on his right leg, pain sliced through his knee. Without meaning to, he sucked in a breath.

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