“If I kiss you, I probably won’t like it.”

Suz winked. “And then what motivation do I have to win the race? I’d just toss you back into the pond for Daisy.”

Cisco drew back, startled. “That wouldn’t be good.”

Suz nodded. “It could be horrible. You could be a wet kisser. Eww.”

“I really don’t think I am.” His ego took a small dent.

“You could be a licky kisser.”

“Pretty sure I’m just right, like Goldilock’s bed,” he said, his ego somewhere down around his boots and flailing like a leaf on the ground in the breeze.

“I don’t know,” Suz said thoughtfully. “Friends don’t let friends kiss friends.”

“I’m not that good of a friend.”

“You really want a kiss, don’t you?”

He perked up at these heartening words that seemed to portend a softening in her stance. “I sure do.”

“Hope you get someone to kiss you one day, then. See you around, Cisco.”

The Twins’

Rodeo Rider

Tina Leonard

www.millsandboon.co.uk

TINA LEONARD is a USA TODAY bestselling and award-winning author of more than fifty projects, including several popular mini-series. Known for bad-boy heroes and smart, adventurous heroines, her books have made the USA TODAY, Waldenbooks, Ingram and Nielsen BookScan bestseller lists. Born on a military base, Tina lived in many states before eventually marrying the boy who did her crayon printing for her in the first grade. You can visit her at tinaleonard.com, and follow her on Facebook and Twitter.

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Contents

Cover

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

Francisco Rodriguez Olivier Grant stared at the very petite, very darling woman dressing him down. Suz Hawthorne giving a man hell was an impressive sight despite her five foot two and a half inch size, due to the streaky blue-in-blond hair, strategically placed cheek studs, a tiny diamond stud in her nose and a miniscule silver loop in her right eyebrow. Though they were small and delicately designed, her tats spoke loudly of her rebel status—a fragile red rose on one wrist, and a beautiful, delicate Celtic cross on the other. When a man adored a woman like he adored Suz, being in her line of fire was enough to nail a man’s boots to the ground—and his boots were nailed down good.

“Here’s the deal, so pay attention.” Suz put her hands on her rounded, feminine hips, guiding his eyes farther down her oh-so-delicious body. Well, he just knew her body would feel delicious—if he could get his hands on it.

“I’m paying close attention.”

“All right. I can’t bring myself to call you Frog like everybody else does. I’ve never seen a man look less frog-like or toadly in my life. There’s nothing amphibious about you, beyond your ability to swim.”

He started to say, “I don’t care what you call me as long as you call me,” then realized that would sound desperate. Or something. “Thanks.”

“Good. I’m glad that’s settled.”

Suz’s brain was a wonder to contemplate, and right now, operating about two gears faster than his. Mainly because he was sidelined by what he belatedly recognized as surefire, 100 percent lust. “What’s settled?”

“Your name.”

He grinned at the sweet-’n’-sassy bombshell, who was disarming him completely. “You’re going to call me Francisco Rodriguez Olivier Grant every time you speak to me?”

“No. From now on, you’re just Cisco.”

He took that in.

“Perhaps your silence means you’re not crazy about that. But Frog just isn’t working for me.”

“Fine. I don’t care. Address me as Santa Claus if you want.” He got his swagger back and then some, kind of impressed that she wanted to call him Cisco. There were probably any number of legendary hanging, swinging badasses that had been called Cisco over time.

Not so many named Frog. He’d been named Frog courtesy of his SEAL brothers, because he could outswim just about every man around.

“Frog” was fine under certain conditions. But when a man wanted a woman thinking about him—and a dynamite package like Suz most particularly—it was probably better to be a Cisco.

“Now that we have that settled, you’re going to escort me to the upcoming Bridesmaids Creek swim.”

“The newly christened Cisco feels like he’s missing a bit of info. We just had a swim for Jade Harper and Ty Spurlock, which is why they’re married, according to the tenets of the fabled charm, right? As I recall, I swam that race pretty quickly.” And he was none too pleased, because the way the rumor mill worked in Bridesmaids Creek, the prize for winning the swim was the woman waiting on the banks at the finish line.

The woman at the finish line that day had been Daisy Donovan, and a more annoying wild woman he’d never had the bad luck to come across.

He wanted Suz. Not Daisy.

But supposedly the legend, charm, magic—whatever you wanted to call it—of Bridesmaids Creek had never, ever misfired. Daisy definitely thought she was his—and was convinced enough of that fact that lately he’d been considering taking himself to parts very far away from the small, family-centered town.

“Yes, your swim was impressive. But another one is scheduled. I’ve decided to challenge Daisy for you.”

This was news he could use. “Really?”

Suz nodded. “Yes.”

“Does the charm work that way?” He scarcely dared to hope.

“We don’t know. In your case, we’re calling it an evil spell. You might say we’re messing with our own potion here in BC.” Suz looked thoughtful. “It’s very experimental. Frankly, we don’t know what could happen if we sidestep the legend.”

“Well, I won’t be going off with Daisy,” he said cheerfully.

“Or you could fall head over heels in love with her. As I mentioned, we’ve never tinkered with our town mysteries before.”

He felt some hope. “So, you want to win me, huh?” He resisted the urge to stick out his chest, show off his pecs, showcase himself a little.

“Not really, but I drew short straw.” Suz got into her truck, completely unaware she’d just flattened his ego. “Ladies don’t swim the race. It’s the man’s job to win his female. Or so we’ve always assumed. It’s been this way dating back to the early days of Bridesmaids Creek.”

He gulped. “You mean I’ll be standing on the banks waiting for the winner to win me?”

“Exactly.”

That scared the hell out of him. Suz was diminutive, while Daisy was more...well, Daisy was mean and beautiful and hotheaded. Looked pretty athletic, too, as she raced up and down the main drag on her motorcycle.

“Can’t I just say I don’t believe in voodoo and ghosts and crap, and it’ll blow over?” The thought gave him hope. “I could just ignore it and it might go away. Or Daisy might find another guy.”

“She’s got her sights set right on you. And just so you know, we don’t do voodoo in BC. We have magic.” Suz started the engine. “I learned to swim in the sixth grade, and though I really haven’t done more than dog-paddle in years, it’s got to be like falling off a bike, right?”

Oh, boy. “Cisco” smiled, felt a bit pained and wondered how he’d come to land in a town that was, as his friend Ty said—that same Ty who’d convinced him to come to Bridesmaids Creek—a town full of carneys and soothsayers all selling the BC shtick.

Yet if he hadn’t come to BC to help the locals breathe new life into BC, he would have never met the amazing, gifted, full-lipped, daunting Suz Hawthorne. And that would’ve been a shame. Even if she didn’t seem to reciprocate his feelings, he was certain this radioactive doll had his name all over her. Reserved especially for him. “Do me a favor. Since I’m agreeing to escort you.”

“Name it.”

“Kiss me.” He leaned close to the window to give her prime access.

“Why would I want to do that?” Suz’s blue eyes widened.

“Because I have nice lips. Or so I’ve been told. Pucker up, dollface.”

“I don’t pucker for anyone who calls me ‘dollface,’ unless you want me to look like I bit into a grapefruit. Now that kind of pucker may be available to you.”

He laughed. “So much sass, so little honesty.”

She sniffed. “I’m trying to save you, cowboy, not romance you. Don’t confuse this.”

“No kiss? I really feel like I need to know if you’re the woman of my dreams, if you’re determined to win me. And a kiss tells all.”

“Oh, wow.” Suz looked incredulous. “You really let that line out of your mouth?”

“Slid out easily. Come on, cupcake.” He closed some distance between her face and his in case she changed her mind. Strike while the branding iron was hot was a very worthwhile strategy. It was in fact his favorite strategy.

“If I kiss you, I probably won’t like it. And then what motivation do I have to win the race? I’d just toss you back into the pond for Daisy.”

He drew back, startled. “That wouldn’t be good.”

Suz nodded. “It could be horrible. You could be a wet kisser. Eww.”

“I really don’t think I am.” His ego took a small dent.

“You could be a licky-kisser.”

“Pretty sure I’m just right, like Goldilock’s bed,” he said, his ego somewhere down around his boots and flailing like a leaf in the breeze.

“I don’t know,” Suz said thoughtfully. “Friends don’t let friends kiss friends.”

“I’m not that good of a friend.”

“You really want a kiss, don’t you?”

He perked up at these heartening words that seemed to portend a softening in her stance. “I sure do.”

“Hope you get someone to kiss you one day, then. See you around, Cisco. And don’t forget, one week until the swim!”

“Hey!” He stopped her from driving off. “How am I supposed to get you in shape in a week?”

Suz raised a brow. “In shape for what?”

“Winning me?”

She winked. “I’m off to The Wedding Diner to eat a piece of four-layer chocolate cake Jane Chatham promised to hold back for me. I guess you’ll have to cross today off your list for training.”

She drove away, her angelic smile doing nothing to ease his trauma. Suz wasn’t trying very hard, as far as he could tell. Somehow she’d gotten roped into this race—short straw indeed—and obviously had no plans to seriously go for the win.

Which meant his Daisy problem was still alive and well. Frog—no, Cisco, because that’s who Suz decreed he was, and he was fine with whatever she wanted—decided he was going to have to make sure that he was absolutely, 100 percent, the gold buckle of bachelors she just couldn’t live without winning.

* * *

CISCO WAS BUSILY plotting how to best tempt Suz into putting some real effort into winning him—as much effort as she’d put into going off for chocolate cake—when the familiar roar of Daisy Donovan’s motorcycle disrupted him. The siren brunette with long chocolate locks pulled up beside him and slipped off her helmet. Daisy was a heart attack on wheels and she knew it. The thing was, she had a very dark side, courtesy of her old man, Robert Donovan, who’d haunted this town for years trying to run it into the ground so he could take over the real estate.

Ty Spurlock had brought Cisco, Justin Morant, Squint Mathison and Sam Barr to town on a bride hunt, to help repopulate the town and fortify it against Robert’s manipulations. Justin had fallen first, for Mackenzie Hawthorne, becoming a father to her four darling quadruplet sweethearts. Then Ty had fallen into his own trap—and no one much saw him these days between his deployments and loving on Jade Harper Spurlock and their twin tiny dolls.

The real kicker was that their buddy Squint had a thing for Daisy. He was just positive her brand of wild child needed him for taming. For some reason, Daisy never looked his way. She preferred instead to cast her lure for a frog—well, a Cisco. He looked at the long-legged brunette with the sexy-devil smile cautiously.

“Hi, Daisy.”

“Hello, lover boy.”

He winced. “Nice January day, huh?”

Daisy laughed. “You’re cute when you’re nervous.”

“I’m not nervous.” He drew himself up. A navy SEAL did not get nervous over brunettes who ripped up the road on motorcycles and tried to tie you down.

Okay, maybe a little nervous. Just because of the tying down thing.

“If you’re not nervous, kiss me.”

She gave him a sultry look that singed his toes. He felt his boots smoking. “I’d better not. It’s probably bad luck to kiss before the big swim,” he said.

“If you don’t want to get lucky, fine by me.”

His throat dried out. He could practically feel sweat pouring out from underneath his hat, when it was a perfectly frigid twenty degrees Fahrenheit outside. “I’m late to meet Squint and Sam. See you, Daisy.”

“Hey.”

He stopped and, looking at her, his heart wadded into a knot. “Yes?”

“If you change your mind about getting lucky, I’ll be around.”

He tipped his hat, hurried off. Her motorcycle roared, and she headed in the opposite direction. Relief ran all over him as he went to find Sam and Squint.

His buddies were parked in Sheriff Dennis McAdams’s office, kicking back, having a good jaw with the sheriff. Sam and Dennis grinned hugely at him, while Squint glared.

“We saw you accosting Daisy out there,” Sam said. “Squint’s jealous.”

“Yeah, that’s what I was doing.” Cisco tossed himself into a chair. “Did you also see me chatting up Suz?”

“No, we didn’t see that.” Dennis looked pleased, lounging behind his wide wood desk that had seen many, many years of boot heels resting on it. “Well, we might have seen you trying to get very close to our Suz, but from here, it looked to us like she backed away in a hurry. A real, real hurry.”

The men laughed—except for Squint. “Hey, brother,” Cisco said, “if you want Daisy so badly, please take her off my hands. By all means.”

That would allow him to concentrate on Suz, which was his preeminent goal.

Squint frowned. “She seems to prefer Frog legs.”

Frog legs, nothing! He held up a hand. “Cisco is the name, boys.”

“Since when?” Dennis palmed through some papers. “I don’t have any paperwork here stating such.”

“Can’t a man change his name because a beautiful woman wants him to?” Cisco was pretty proud to brag on the fact that he alone had been newly anointed by one of the town’s most awesome, sexy bachelorettes.

“Daisy?” Squint glared some more. “Daisy wants you to go by Cisco? Because I’m going to have to tell her that there’s a reason we called you Frog. Frog legs, for sure. Thin and not much meat.”

“No, Suz calls me Cisco. And you’re still annoyed that I beat you last month in the Bridesmaids Creek swim.”

“I had a leg cramp!” Squint’s glare bounced right off Cisco.

“You’re a SEAL. You should be in better shape. Anyway, it doesn’t matter.” He thumped his chest. “You’re looking at the new and improved Cisco Grant. And Suz is swimming to win me next weekend.”

“Really?” Squint sat up. “Does Daisy know?”

Cisco frowned. “I didn’t ask. Guess I didn’t care.”

“Careful,” Squint said. “You misjudge Daisy’s fineness. She comes across evil and devilish, but I’m telling you, it’s true Texas hot sauce that lady’s peddling. And I aim to eat it up, if you’ll get out of my way.”

“You’re going to have to do better than that,” Dennis observed. “If you want to win Daisy, Squint, win her. Don’t get cramps when the race is hot. You must become the rope if you want to lasso her. Frankly, I don’t think you have it in you.” He shrugged. “Cisco Frog obviously does.”

“Cisco Frog!” Cisco glared, worried that pseudonym might stick. “Just Cisco is fine, thanks.”

“Well,” Sam said, having remained silent this whole time, “I can see that the tie is going to have to go to the runner.”

They stared at Sam. Cisco was a bit suspicious. Sam was known for being many things, being clever and underhanded chief among them. In other words, he liked to be in the middle of everything, and turn it inside out just to watch everybody whirl around in different directions thanks to him.

“What runner? We’re swimming,” Cisco pointed out. “Actually, the girls are swimming.”

“Yep.” Sam got up and stretched. “And I’ve entered as a prize.”

The men gawked at Sam.

“You can’t do that. It’s my turn! The ladies want to win me. Well, Daisy does. I’m pretty sure Suz is operating out of pity, but I’m not picky,” Cisco said.

“Sheesh,” Dennis said. “Have some pride, Frog.”

Cisco sighed. “Okay. Sam, you can take my place.”

The sheriff’s office went silent for a moment.

“Did you give up that easily when you were a SEAL?” Dennis demanded. “Just throw in the towel at the first sign of difficulty?”

“No.” Cisco looked around the cramped, dark room. A small lamp sat on Dennis’s desk. The jail was down the hall, but it was empty now. Dennis’s wife, Shirley, had put some potpourri on his desk under the lamp to make it a more “homey” place, she’d said, and it did smell sweet in here. He breathed deeply, trying to clear his head. “You’re right. I don’t have any pride where Suz is concerned. My brain twirls like a pinwheel when she’s around. And she won’t kiss me. Says I might be a sloppy kisser.”

His best friends thought that was a real thigh-slapper. They roared with laughter. He shrugged, undeterred.

“I’ve been thinking,” Cisco said when the snickers and guffaws died down, “maybe I don’t really belong in BC.”

They booed that raucously.

“You belong with us,” Sam said. “You, me, Squint, we’re a team. We were a team in Afghanistan and other places that sometimes felt like hellholes, and sometimes felt real good. But we’re a team, and we stick together.”

Cisco shook his head now that the words had traveled from his brain to his mouth and hit the atmosphere. “I’m pretty sure the BC rigmarole and fiddle-faddle is beyond me. I’m not cut out for these small-town shenanigans.”

“That’s right.” Squint nodded. “Because you’re from a small town in Virginia that grows her boys strapping and proud. No high jinks in those small towns, either.”

“It’s hard to explain.” It wasn’t too hard to explain—it had to do with what his friends had observed about Suz: she just wasn’t into him.

And he was totally into her.

If Daisy won the race, he was a gigged Frog. Two times won and for sure the Bridesmaids Creek charm would kick in. “I don’t think Suz is all that motivated to get in shape to win. She was heading off to eat some four-layer cake.”

The men didn’t laugh like he’d expected.

“Look,” Squint said, “Dennis is right. We’re going to have to bait your trap better. We’ll help you.”

“I said nothing like that,” Dennis said. “Suz is hometown-grown. She’s stubborn and independent, and no one’s going to make her do anything she doesn’t want to do.”

“Which is why,” Cisco said after a long, deliberate examination one more time of his options, “I’ve decided to head back to the rodeo circuit.”

“Yeah, right.” Sam laughed. “And leave sweet Suz to me?”

“You?” Cisco’s gaze jerked to Sam. “Since when has Suz been sweet to you?”

Sam grinned. “I didn’t say she had been. I’m saying that you and me setting up a side race—or side bet, whichever you prefer—would make things very interesting.”

“Side race?” Cisco was all ears to this.

“Sure. Let’s see which one of us can win Suz’s heart before the big race. Before you throw in the towel and go get killed by a bull.” Sam smiled, glancing around at his brothers before leaning forward to shake Cisco’s hand. “May the best man win. Which will be me—and I won’t even have to change my name to do it, Cisco, my friend.”

Chapter Two

Sam was a trickster beyond compare, which was no shock to Cisco. He knew his buddy too well to fall completely for what seemed to be, at first glance, a spirited race between friends. Sam was without doubt trying to encourage him, rally the forces. This was no different than any of the tactics Sam had used in Afghanistan when rallying was needed. He was known for his good humor and slightly wild—okay, zanily wild—approach to life. Stateside, Sam flirted with all the ladies, usually long enough to make certain whatever buddy of his was in the line of fire walked right into said fire.

The problem was, though Cisco wouldn’t mention it aloud, Suz might have eyes for Handsome Sam, as the brothers-in-arms called him. She certainly didn’t seem all that warm to the newly nicknamed Cisco.

Heck, she hadn’t even liked his official nom de plume, which he’d been called by his serving brothers.

She’d said he might be a slobbery kisser. And followed that up with eww.

There was no point in taking a bet when a man could see that he was on the upside of the teeter-totter. You never knew when your teeter-tottering companion might decide to be funny and hop off, thereby leaving you with a crash landing.

“I don’t know. Let’s head over to The Wedding Diner and see what’s cooking.” Cisco got up to his friends’ hoots.

“Come on, Cisco,” Squint said, “take the bet.”

“Yeah, I’m not so sure,” Cisco hedged. “Suz said she drew short straw. And I think she’s pretty proud of her dog paddle, but hasn’t got the stroke part of swimming down yet.”

The sheriff wiped tears of laughter from his eyes. “We haven’t had so much fun in this town for years. I’m really glad Ty talked you boys into coming to BC.” He let out a few more guffaws at Cisco’s expense.

“If you’re so hot for Daisy,” Cisco said to Squint, “do something, I beg you.”

“Nope.” Squint shrugged. “I like to keep my lasso loose. She’ll figure it out eventually, and when she’s gotten nice and tired from running after the wrong Prince Charming, she’ll be more than happy to let me catch her.”

“I’ve never seen your lasso do anything but droop,” Cisco said, sticking the knife in just a little. “I’d like to hear a winning plan.”

“You don’t exactly sound like you’re a cornucopia of options,” Squint said.

“Which is why I’m off to eat cake. Nothing bucks a man up and clarifies his thinking like four-layer chocolate cake.” Cisco slapped his Stetson down on his head and hurried out of the jail to catch up to Suz, not caring that his buddies seemed to find his prompt exit uproarious.

They just didn’t understand the lengths to which he would go to avoid the sexy siren call of Daisy Donovan.

* * *

SUZ SAT IN the booth at The Wedding Diner, sipping hot honeyed tea in a delicate flowered china cup, waiting for Cisco to show up, as she hoped he would.

It had been thirty minutes, and he was nowhere to be seen. Quite possibly, the man either couldn’t take a hint, or he didn’t understand that the proceedings next weekend were quite serious. She was trying to save him from Daisy’s clutches, and this was going to require some skill.

First of all, she didn’t like frigid water. She didn’t fancy swimming in January, though the guys—Squint and Sam, both SEALs—had kitted her out with proper gear so toasty they swore she wouldn’t notice the cold.

All she had to do, they claimed, was hop in Bridesmaids Creek and swim like a water moccasin. And Frog—Cisco—would be rescued.

She hadn’t wanted to admit that swimming wasn’t her forte. Less than her forte. She actually couldn’t swim at all.

“You can do it,” Jane Chatham, the owner of the diner said. “You can stay afloat, right?”

“I’m pretty proud of my ability to bob like an apple.” Suz put her teacup down, glancing at the door. She wondered when Cisco was finally going to come charging in. You’d think the temptation of four-layer cake would have brought him running, but no. The man was a very, very difficult card to play.

“You shouldn’t need much to beat Daisy,” Cosette Lafleur said. Cosette owned the shop a few doors down, called Madame Matchmaker’s Premiere Matchmaking Services. Cosette was BC’s resident lucky charm when it came to pairing people up. Only one match so far had backfired on Madame: Suz’s sister Mackenzie’s first marriage.

Suz was hopeful—determined—that Cosette’s wand wouldn’t clog up now that Suz actually had a cowboy she wanted in her sights. Cisco, Sam and Squint had drifted to the rodeo circuit after they’d departed the navy, staying together in a tight-knit brotherhood, none of them anxious to return to their own hometowns. Handsome, bad-boy drifters, Ty Spurlock claimed when he brought them to Bridesmaids Creek. Drifters who just needed an anchor—and there were plenty of cute-as-a-button anchors in BC.

Trust Ty to see it that way, drop the load of testosterone on BC and take off for the navy himself after he married spirited redhead Jade Harper.

“I can beat Daisy on any field of battle but water.”

“When you were in the Peace Corps all those years,” Jane asked, “you didn’t have to swim?”

Suz shook her head. “I taught English, I taught math, I helped in the infirmary. I didn’t swim. I did, however, assist when there were bites from slithery things.” She shivered. “I’m actually not too fond of waterways, if I have to be immersed in them.”

“Why didn’t you mention this when straws were being drawn?” Cosette demanded. “There were other women who would have gladly gotten the short straw.”

“You know very well why.” Suz wondered if maybe she should order the cake now. It seemed Cisco wasn’t going to show up to join her, which was too bad, because he’d stunned her with that bit about wanting to kiss her. Of course she wasn’t going to kiss him!

When he saw her swimming like a demented turtle, he was going to know she wasn’t the woman who was destined to be his.

“Why?” Jane demanded, and Suz took a deep breath.

“Both you and Madame Matchmaker know that the Bridesmaids Creek swim has never failed. Neither has the Best Man’s Fork run. Except for Mackenzie,” she said hurriedly, “and really, I blame that more on my sister’s hammerheaded ex than the charms of BC.” Or Cosette’s matchmaking. Although according to Ty, the whole bad match was his fault.

There were always a few twists and turns in their small town that prided itself on its haunted house, good food and friendly, busybody ways.

“Oh, you’re worried about the charm.” Cosette nodded wisely, her pink-tinted gray hair shining under the lights of the diner. “You took the straw because you don’t want anyone else to have Cisco.”

“Maybe it’s just a superstition,” Suz said. “Maybe we bring this legend on ourselves because we want it so much. When there’s a ratio of, what, ten women to every man here? Someone made up a cute gag that claimed that whoever won those swims and races got the man of their dreams at the end. The thing is,” Suz said, worried, “we’ve never had a woman doing the actual competing. It’s all wrong. Maybe the legend doesn’t work in reverse.”

The two women stared at her.

“We don’t know,” Jane said. “It’s never been done.”

“Well,” Cosette said brightly, “never mind. That’s why we have a matchmaker in town.”

Suz wished she felt better with Cosette on the case, but there was that teeny matter of the misfire on Mackenzie’s first marriage. “Thank you. The thing is, with Daisy determined to win Cisco’s heart, I would have done better in a bake-off. Daisy can’t cook. And I can’t swim.”

“Yes, perhaps this didn’t get set up properly. But Cisco won Daisy fair and square last month,” Cosette reminded them. “He swam the race, he came in first place. The competition was fierce that day, and Squid—”

“Squint,” Jane and Suz said, trying to be helpful because on occasion Cosette’s native French hit a bump or two.

“Squint had his shot. But he came in dead last.” Cosette shook her head. “There’ll be no wedding for him in Bridesmaids Creek.”

And Squint was the only bachelor who saw Daisy as something she wasn’t. The handsome SEAL thought Daisy was a misunderstood bad girl, with a hidden heart of gold.

Although there was as much of a chance that Squint just had the hots for Daisy. Either way, he’d pulled up with a leg cramp, beaten even by Daisy’s gang of five bad boys. “Someone needs to save Squint from the legend.”

“Could be,” Madame Cosette said cheerfully. “But magic isn’t really tweakable. What we have here in BC is magic.”

“Ty says we’re just a town of carneys selling our small-town shtick.”

“Is that the word he uses?” Jane wondered.

“When he’s being polite. Other times, he goes for a little more flavor in his comments. However, since his marriage to Jade—after the legend worked on his behalf—he’s more inclined to lay off the flavoring.” Suz breathed a sigh of relief when Cisco appeared in the doorway, backed up by the sheriff, Squint and Sam. She perked up so he’d see her.

It was like he had radar—Suz was sure of it. He came right to their table, doffing his tan Stetson respectfully.

“Ladies,” Cisco said.

Cosette squished over next to Jane, both their ample forms filling the booth, so that Cisco would have no choice but to slide in with Suz. Which he did, not appearing to notice their friends’ obvious ploy to get them together.

His mind seemed elsewhere, which wasn’t good, as far as Suz was concerned.

“What about us?” Sheriff McAdams asked, clearly hoping for an invite to scoot himself and his buddies into the booth, too.

The booth would have accommodated them, but Cosette absently flopped a hand toward an empty one. “That spot’s open.”

The three men went off, looking comically disappointed. Suz slid a glance at Cisco, checking out his big, handsome, very sexy self.

“Have you had your chocolate cake?” Cisco asked.

She shook her head. Cosette and Jane pushed out of the booth. “I’ll get it,” Jane said.

“I’ll help. Tea or water?” Cosette asked Cisco.

“Milk and coffee, please.” He turned to Suz, and Suz’s heart seemed to melt inside her.

“Can we talk about the race next weekend?”

She nodded. “Talk away.”

“You don’t seem all that enthusiastic.”

“I’m not.” Suz concentrated on the scent of man and woodsy cologne, and the realization that he seemed to have no intention of taking up the space across the tabletop where Cosette and Jane had left a vacant seat. “I told you, I don’t really swim.”

He grinned at her, slow and easy, lighting a fire in her body where it hadn’t been lit before. “I’ve taken that into consideration, and I have a plan.”

“You do?” Suz stared at his mouth, completely oblivious to Jane plunking down their cake and Cosette spilling a little coffee. You couldn’t expect the matchmaker not to be a little nervous, Suz decided when she looked up and realized Cosette was mopping up coffee faster than you could say, “Cleanup in booth one.”

She went back to considering Cisco’s rugged face.

He smiled at her again, completely ruining her ability to remember that Daisy, the mean, mean girl of Bridesmaids Creek, who’d written the book on mean after her father had scribed the first chapter, had won Cisco just a few short weeks ago. No, all she could think of was why she’d never before realized that Francisco Rodriguez Olivier Grant had such a sexy, steamy set of lips.

She’d been so reaching when she’d told him she didn’t want to kiss him. Keeping distance was her specialty; she’d done it all her life. The truth was, she was pretty certain and would bet the farm—that being the Hanging H where she and her sister had grown up and currently lived—that this man knew exactly what to do with his mouth in very special, woman-pleasing ways.

He smiled at her. “I’m going to teach you. And when I get done with you, Suz Hawthorne, you’re going to be able to swim like a mermaid.”

Chapter Three

Holding Suz Hawthorne, even in the cold, cold water of Bridesmaids Creek, was every bit as mind-bending as Cisco had imagined in his dreams, and then some. She was soft and cute and dainty, and there was a part of his body that stayed warm no matter what, just from the contact. He held her plank-style so she could rotate her arms, which she did in paddleboat-wheel fashion.

Staring at her butt in the wet suit wasn’t going to make the definitely warm area—a lesser gentleman might even term that area of his body as hard, but thanks to the wet suit it was a concealed difficulty—any less warm. She was like a slippery seal with curves, wriggling in his hands, but she was making a good-faith effort to learn what he was trying to teach. And she hadn’t complained about the water temperature once.

Which was the thing he’d always admired about Suz—she was tough. In a delicate sort of way. If she were a man, she would have been a great SEAL candidate.

“You’re doing fine. But that’s enough for today.” Cisco helped Suz from the water to the bank, ostensibly guiding her so she wouldn’t slip and fall back in, but really so he could keep his hands on her a little longer under the respectable guise of swim coach.

“So what do you think?” Suz faced him as she toweled off. It looked like she might want to shiver a little, but wasn’t going to give in to it.

Secretly, he was dismayed by the fact that Suz really couldn’t swim. “At this short-straw party that was held in my honor, did you happen to mention to anyone that you couldn’t swim very well?”

Suz shook out her hair. “No. I didn’t think I’d be short straw. I’ve always been pretty lucky.”

So she didn’t think swimming for him was necessarily a good thing. Cisco was about to move on to his next salient question, namely: Was there anything else she could think of to be done to avoid the Curse, as he now thought of Bridesmaids Creek’s very potent charms, when the nightmare of his nightmares roared up on her shiny motorcycle.

Daisy hopped off, shed her helmet and glared. “What’s going on?”

“Cisco’s giving me a swimming lesson.” Suz fluffed her hair, spraying a few final water droplets. “What’s going on with you?”

Daisy’s glare could have cut fog. “You’re cheating.”

This didn’t sound good. Cisco decided he’d best intervene, but before he could say anything, Daisy got back on her bike. “I’m filing a formal complaint with the Bridesmaids Creek committee. You know very well that you’re not supposed to be doing anything to influence the prize, Suz Hawthorne.”

Suz stiffened up like a fierce chicken. “How am I influencing the prize? Cisco’s giving me a lesson. There’s nothing else going on.”

Daisy’s gaze slid to him. “You’re not being impartial.”

“Guilty as charged.” There was no point in denying it. “Look, Daisy, I know there’s this enchantment, or airy-fairy nonsense, that appears to be pretty baked here in this town, but I don’t care how many curses you put on me, I’m just not going to be into you.” He swallowed, hating to hurt her feelings but realizing that bluntness was needed before the threat of committees got thrown around some more. He didn’t know what strength a BC committee had, but there was already enough bad blood in the town as it was. “I don’t care how many times you win me, I’m not the guy for you. I’m sorry.”

Daisy shook her head. “That’s the beauty of the charms here. Sometimes we don’t know what’s right under our noses.”

He looked over Suz’s seal-slick figure, eyeing her curves and her streaked hair. “I know what’s under my nose. I don’t need any race or contest or matchmaker to tell me.”

Daisy frowned. “I’m going to file a complaint. Once again, the Hawthornes have conspired to work things to their advantage. Suz, you’ve tampered with the race, and that’s just not done in BC. Our legends are sacrosanct.”

Suz shrugged. “File away. I don’t care. It was just a swimming lesson.”

“Just because you’ve always been the hometown princess doesn’t mean you can break the rules.” Daisy zoomed off.

“Hell, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize we were bending any contest rules.” Cisco shook his head. “I don’t want to be the damn prize. I only swam the first race because her dad was putting up a huge purse, and my buddies and I decided to win it and give it to charity. And we looked forward to putting a major thumping on Daisy’s gang.” He shook his head. “Didn’t foresee Squint, of all people, cramping up and crab-crawling into last place.”

Suz walked to his truck. “So don’t be the prize, if it bugs you so much. It’s just a moneymaker for our town. People like to come out and see the event, the same folks who frequent our haunted house at the Hanging H. Families who like family events they can go to with their kids.”

“It’s a big deal, huh?” A little guilt seeped into him.

She shrugged and got into his truck. “I told you, it’s a fund-raiser, a community-building event, and we enjoy tooting our own horn here. With Robert Donovan trying to tear this town down, we encourage family-friendly events, hoping to tempt people to settle here.”

He started the truck, noting that the guilt was rising inside him. “But it’s so silly.”

She smiled, brushed her wet hair straight back from her forehead in a slick tail. He had an even better look at her face sans jewelry and hair, and realized Suz wasn’t just pretty, she had a fine-boned beauty to her that was stunning. “It seems silly to you. You’re not from here. I might think things in your town are silly, too. Or at least unusual.”

“Yeah. Probably.” He drove down the road toward the Hanging H to drop her back home. Then he’d trudge over to the bunkhouse, where his buddies would be waiting to rib him. “What would happen if I fell for someone else?” he asked, his voice deliberately casual, his heart banging like mad. “Even though Daisy won me—which is kind of a bogus win, because I was really swimming lights-out to win her dad’s dough to donate to charity, and to beat her gang, which was awesome—” he took a deep breath “—but I wasn’t trying to win her.”

“So you’re saying that the legend might not work because you had ulterior motives?” Suz looked at him.

“I’m just asking.” He went back to his original question. “So, theoretically speaking, what would happen if I fell for, say, you? Wouldn’t that negate the charm?”

“It’s never happened. We’ve always operated within the bounds of what’s worked all these years. Never tried to circumvent the system.” She studied him. “You really don’t like Daisy, do you?”

“No,” he said, pretty desperately. “I’m not a superstitious guy, but you folks are giving me the heebie-jeebies with all this charm stuff. I don’t believe it, but there may be something in the water, because I never dreamed I’d see Ty Spurlock settle down. Ever.”

“Yeah, that was a shocker.” Suz shrugged, put on some shiny, clear lip gloss. “So don’t be part of the swim.”

“It’s that easy?”

She turned to him, surprised. “Of course! No one’s forcing you to participate in our town functions.”

Town dysfunctions. He wondered if he was being a dud over what was arguably probably just a fun day in January, something to break up the monotony of an otherwise cold, dreary month.

How he wished Suz was the prize. For her, he was pretty certain he could set new swimming records. “I know you can beat her. I’m not worried.”

Suz’s delicate heart-shaped lips separated. “You’re not?”

Cisco took a deep breath. “Nope.”

“Because you sounded like you were a second ago.”

“I feel pretty good with my champion,” he said, smiling at Suz. “And we’ve got a few more days to teach you. You’ve got this.”

Suz smiled. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” He pulled into the Hanging H’s long drive. “It’s going to be fun. And I saw on the weather report it’s going to be an unseasonably warm day Saturday. Everything’s in your corner.”

She brightened. “Thanks for believing in me.”

“Never doubted you.”

He got out of the truck, and she hopped out, too. She waved goodbye, and went into her house. Cisco took a deep, fortifying breath, and slunk into the bunkhouse to face the teasing he knew he would receive.

Squint and Sam lounged on the leather sofas, drinking what looked like hot cocoa and eating bonbons, Cisco thought with disgust. “Are those chocolate drops you fellows are dropping into your maws?”

“Mmm.” Squint grinned. “They’re called cake balls, but they’re really more chocolate or vanilla frosting than a piece of cake. Here.” Squint tossed him one, which Cisco caught, popping it into his mouth after studying it.

It was sweet, but he’d rather go to Suz for his sugar intake. “Don’t you fellows have anything to do? Besides sit around in the lap of luxury?”

“Actually, we’re waiting on you for the swim report.” Sam grinned. “We’ve already heard from Daisy.”

“Great.” Cisco pondered the beer in the fridge, decided to hit the whiskey instead.

“Self-medicating?” Sam asked, and his buddies guffawed.

“Do I need to?” Cisco came out with three glasses and a full bottle. “Anybody joining me this cold evening?”

“Sure. We’ll toast your doom,” Sam said.

“Hey! That’s my girl you’re talking about,” Squint said. “Daisy is not doom. She’s a radioactively hot baby.” He smacked his lips after taking a shot. “I wish I was the prize so she could win me.”

“Take my place.” Cisco shrugged. “Everybody wins.”

“Oh, ye of little faith.” Sam looked pleased. “Don’t you think Suz can steal Daisy’s crown? Daisy was in here, madder than a hornet. She seems to think you’re giving Suz tips—SEAL tips—on how to win.”

“Suz can’t steal Daisy’s crown yet.” Cisco raised his glass to his buddies, took another shot. “But I have faith.”

His friends grinned at him. “You’re being dishonest,” Sam said. “Your eyelid always jumps when you’re deviating from the truth.”

“Otherwise known as lying like a rug.” Squint held out his glass for a refill. “It’s okay. We get it. But just know my girl was awfully PO’d. She’s going to make some noise about your gaming the holy BC system. And I don’t know what happens then.”

“All hell breaks loose. Who cares?” Cisco shrugged. “There were no tips given. Since Suz can’t swim, it’s not like I can give her a SEAL tip, although I appreciate Daisy’s faith in our navy.”

Sam and Squint looked startled. “Can’t swim?” Squint repeated, sounding dumbfounded.

“Not a stroke.” Cisco eyed his glass, appreciating the amber liquid. It was smooth, as smooth as the slick wet suit that looked as if it had been spray-painted on Suz, much to his appreciative gaze. “It’s okay. She’s got the race in the bag. I’ll be saved, and then you can press your case on the unsuspecting Daisy.” He stared down Squint. “If Daisy’s ‘your girl,’ as you call her, why hasn’t she figured that out?”

Squint shrugged. “It seems her gaze is caught on your ugly mug.”

Cisco laughed. “You are a rather homely dog.”

“Thank you.” Squint leaned back in the sofa. “You want me to help you teach Suz how to swim? I really need her to win this race, for the obvious reason.”

“You?” Sam laughed along with Cisco. “Leg Cramp Man? Mr. Last Place?”

Squint looked devastated. “Never happened before.”

“You’ll redeem yourself one day.” A bright, shiny idea illuminated Cisco’s brain. “Have you told Daisy how you feel?”

“No, dude, that’s not smooth.” Squint didn’t look optimistic.

“It’s because he came in last place in the swim last month,” Sam said, filling in the missing pieces Squint didn’t want to admit. “We overheard Daisy telling someone that she would never date a man who came in last place, behind her gang. That man, of course, was our buddy.”

Squint’s face mapped misery like a human Etch A Sketch. “It was a muscle spasm! People get them!”

Cisco looked at the ceiling, wondering how to salvage the dilemma they found themselves in. “We’ll figure it out. All for one, and one for all, the way it’s always been.” He looked at his friend speculatively. “You believe in all this hocus-pocus around here?”

“Ty swears by it. He’s the one who would know,” Squint said. “He’s born and bred BC.”

“You?” Cisco asked Sam.

“Hell, I don’t care.” Sam grinned. “I’m always going to do whatever I want, and no charm’s going to change that.”

“The selfish bachelor.” Cisco nodded. “But not as selfish as you,” he said, looking at Squint. “If you have such a hot thing going for Daisy, why don’t you just tell her? It could change everything for all of us. Take me out of the boiling pot.”

“But frogs belong in boiling pots,” said Squint, clearly unbothered by his best friend’s dilemma. “I can’t tip my hand. I’ll just wait, as I’ve said, until she’s done chasing after what she doesn’t want. Women do that, you know. It’s all part of the dance.” He relaxed into the sofa cushions, a look of contentment on his face. “I do wish you wouldn’t get my girl all stirred up, though. Makes me sad to see her unhappy.”

Cisco scoffed. “Let’s get on with the planning of this escapade. It’s time for teamwork.”

“What escapade?” Sam asked.

“Like last time, when we all swam the race together to achieve a unified goal. Teamwork. That’s what we’re good at.”

His good buddies looked blank as new sheets of paper.

“No plan here,” Sam said. “I’ve even changed my mind about participating in the race. No reason to since Daisy’s going to win. So, just call me No Plan Sam.”

“I’ve got nothing,” Squint agreed.

Suz blew in on a gust of cold air, warming Cisco. She looked fresh and invigorated from their lesson: hair dry and spiky, foxy smile on her face, roses in her cheeks to match the pink scarf around her neck. He was definitely warm for this woman, in all the right places.

“I brought pumpkin chocolate chip muffins,” Suz said, and the men cheered.

“Just the thing to go with whiskey.” Ever the dog, Sam hopped up to help himself first to what Cisco considered his spoils.

“My work, my prize,” Cisco said, snatching the cute basket with the blue-and-white patterned napkin away from Sam. “Sit down and stay a second,” he said to Suz, guiding her to a seat far away from Sam and Squint.

“Yes, do.” Sam gazed at Suz, waiting his turn at the basket, which Cisco now passed around grudgingly. “We’ve been hearing about your lesson this morning.”

Suz glanced with some annoyance at Cisco, which he felt was ill-deserved. “That should be a private topic.”

“Yeah, well,” Squint said, pawing the basket with his big hand. “Daisy came by to throw a hissy about Cisco cheating. She’s filing a complaint, or squawking to someone.”

Suz frowned. “Let her complain. We did nothing wrong.”

Cisco perked at the sound of “we” on Suz’s sweet lips, very much liking the “we’re in this together” medley. “Besides which, I have a plan to completely neutralize our town tattletale.”

“Watch it,” Squint reminded him, “again, that’s my girl we’re talking about.”

“Precisely. And I have a thunderbolt of inspiration about your girl,” Cisco said. “Squint, Mr. Leg Cramp Extraordinaire, is going to take my place on Saturday.”

The room went dead silent as everyone stared at him.

“To what end?” Squint demanded.

“If Daisy needs to win someone, then it should be you. That will undo the curse—”

“Charm!” everyone reminded him.

“And Squint will then be the object of this matchmaker-created charm.”

“How do you know that’s how we got the charm?” Suz asked. “It’s top secret. Only a few people know.”

Cisco looked at Suz. “What’s top secret?”

“Never mind,” Suz said. “Continue with your idea.”

“His explosion of brain cells is top secret,” Sam said.

“His deviation from the norm,” Squint said. “I don’t like how you’re trying to cheat my lady out of her win.” He wagged a finger at Cisco. “I know when you’re trying to think up an outside-the-box strategy, watched you do it many times in Afghanistan. And this feels like that.”

“It always worked, didn’t it?” His friends nodded. Cisco took great pride in his ability to strategize when things look bleak—and right now, they were bleak. “Daisy will win Squint, because he, not I, will be at the finish line. The charm will ricochet on to Squint, and he will get the woman of his dreams, and I’ll be free. Happy ending for all,” he said cheerily, settling back with a pumpkin chocolate chip muffin clutched in one hand and his whiskey in the other. “Let the applause begin.”

Suz hopped to her feet, not applauding. “You don’t think I can win.”

Cisco hesitated. “Now, I didn’t say that—”

“Yeah, you did,” Sam said. “Pretty much you did.”

“It’s implied,” Squint said, “and it’s a bit sad, if you ask me.”

He wasn’t about to bring up Suz’s lack of swimming prowess, but wasn’t it obvious he was trying to save her from embarrassment? And holy hell, he didn’t want anywhere near this top-secret whatchamagig charm thing, just in case it did work. He was not winding up at an altar with Daisy Donovan, thus losing the woman of his dreams, and taking Squint’s, which would mean losing a good buddy.

This called for clear digestion of cold, hard facts. “Suz, beautiful, you really don’t swim. It’s more of a dog paddle that goes sort of circular. It keeps you from drowning, but that’s its main utilitarian function.”

His buddies drew in sharp breaths, gave him the no-no-no slashing signs to signal him to silence himself before it was too late.

It was too late.

Suz went to the door. “Fine. We’ll do it your way. Squint, be at the finish line. Be sure you have a warm blanket waiting for me, and get your pucker ready.”

She went out as cold gushed in the door, slamming it behind her.

“Smooth,” Sam observed.

“Oh, boy,” Squint said, “you’ve stepped in a big ol’ pile of steamy trouble you are never getting off your boot.”

Cisco ate his muffin in silence, dreading Saturday even more, now that his sweet ’n’ petite dollface had mentioned puckering to Squint. She’d talked about a pucker once to him, saying kissing him would force her to pucker like she’d bit into a grapefruit.

But she hadn’t said that to Squint. In fact, she’d sounded like the pucker she had waiting for him was going to be served up with a smile.

Chapter Four

In the end, Suz won the race handily, due to Daisy coming up with a leg cramp in the last fifty yards—a Squint-styled leg cramp, Cisco presumed, realizing now that the fix had been in, thanks to his dumb bright idea. With a couple hundred people posted along the banks of Bridesmaids Creek with hot cocoa, pompons and enthusiastic yells for both wet-suit-wearing women, Daisy must have calculated enough effort to put in a great show, then pulled up—because she didn’t want Squint.

She wanted Cisco.

Surprised by how many folks turned out for this event—both in-towners and out-of-towners, Cisco realized BC had their charmed ways, which made them money and made them special. It didn’t matter whether the charms were real or not, but what did matter was Suz giving Squint the kiss Cisco wanted.

Realizing he was now double-cursed—double-charmed, call it how you saw it—Cisco knew he had one option left to him. So he packed up his stuff, turned his notice in to Justin Morant, Suz’s sister Mackenzie’s husband, tossed his duffel into his truck and headed to the rodeo circuit.

Just plain ol’ Frog now. “I apparently am the frog that got put back in the pond,” he said, turning on some country-western tunes to commiserate with him as he sang his way into New Mexico. He’d start off in Santa Fe, work his way into shape.

Thought about Suz’s swimming skills a lot on the way, and how happy she’d looked rising out of the water, victorious. The blue-haired sylph had put a lot of effort into refining her stroke over the week, and a little shame crept into him that he’d doubted her.

That was not hero material. No wonder she’d not even glanced his way at the finish line.

So tonight was his first ride. Frog got his number pinned on, went to shoot the breeze with the fellows. It wasn’t going to be easy to establish the kind of friendships he had with his team back in BC. But when you were a renegade persona non grata, you bucked up and moved along.

“How you doing, buddy?” Someone clapped him on the back, but Frog didn’t see who it was as they went by. He waited for his name to be called, rode a respectable ride, but without a decent enough number to make it into the next round he pushed on to the next rodeo.

Two weeks later, the blue-haired angel of his dreams appeared beside the chute in Arizona where his bull was about to be loaded. “Suz!”

She nodded. “Yes. You big chicken-hearted weasel.”

“I suppose I deserve that.”

“You do deserve that.” She glared at him. “After you ride, I want to talk to you, buster.”

Gladly was what he wanted to say. His eyes ate her up. “Okay. I’ll be out in eight,” he said, posturing a little.

She scoffed and went to the grandstand. He grinned. “Things are looking up, ol’ buddy,” he told the bull being loaded. “Look out for me. My name is all over you.”

The bull thought little of his comments, and tossed him in under two seconds—well, maybe two seconds, but the guys later said it was doubtful—and stomped him a little just to make his point. Frog writhed in the gritty arena, helped out quick by a couple of bullfighters.

Suz met him, her eyes huge. “Are you all right?”

“Except for a missing gizzard or two, I should be fine. Maybe my stomach muscles are papier-mâché, but they should strengthen back up eventually. A year from now,” he said, falling with a groan into the chair the bullfighters steered him to. A rodeo doctor ran over, checking him out, proclaiming he just needed rest and TLC and maybe some kisses for his ouchies.

Nobody laughed. Even Frog knew it had been a near thing.

“Come on, you big baby.” Suz helped him to his feet. “Where’s your room?”

“I sleep in my truck,” he said, feeling pain radiate from the roof of his mouth to the soles of his feet.

“Well, we’re getting a room.”

“I like the sound of that,” he said, meaning he could use a lengthy lie-down in a real bed to try to get his innards back to 3-D shape and regular form rather than smashed flat as peanut butter.

“Settle down, cowboy. I’m going to nurse you back to health, and that’s it.”

“Thank you,” he managed to gasp out as she folded him into a human accordion into his own truck and drove to find a hotel. “What are you doing here?”

“I told you. I came to bless you out for being such a faithless knucklehead. I’m not surprised at all to see you in this shape. You’re clearly a man who doesn’t learn easily.”

“This may be true.” He caught a whiff of perfume and something else sweet, like sexy woman, something he hadn’t smelled in his truck in a long time. “That’s the only reason you’re here? You could have blessed me out by cell phone.”

“Not near as satisfying as in person.” She stopped outside a cozy B and B and looked at him. “Looks like doilies for drapes. Can you handle this much toile and chintz?”

“All I do is toil and whatever else you said.” He felt like he was time traveling out of his head a bit. “Good luck finding a room.”

“Be right back.”

He sighed when she left because the intoxicating scent went with her. God, he was glad to see her. Shocked as all get-out, but glad.

And that’s when it hit him like a bundle of thunderbolts sent from above: he had a thing for Suz Hawthorne. And not just any old thing—he was head over heels for her. Irretrievably and irrevocably. From the stiffy in his jeans to the grin on his face when she was around, he was in love with that little fireball.

She tore open his door, jumping him clean out of his stupefied reverie. “She has one room. For the record, we’re married.”

“Hot damn.” She helped him out of the truck, a slow, painful effort on his behalf. “I knew you’d get me one way or another. That swim must have worked, after all.”

“Just keep walking to bungalow number three, and if you could turn the motor off your mouth, it would be ever so nice.”

“That BC shtick knew you were meant to be mine,” he said, groaning torturously when she helped him to the bed. He climbed in ungracefully. “I’m sorry, but I’m not going to be able to provide you with any marital bliss at the moment.”

She laughed, and it kind of flattened his ego again.

“I’m going out to get us some food. Lie there and don’t do anything else stupid.”

Suz flashed out the door. Frog tossed his hat away. “Stupid?” he asked. “Anything else stupid?”

What had she meant by that? He couldn’t remember doing anything stupid. She hadn’t put the remote by him, and he was too sore to reach the cell phone in his back pocket, so he lay there like a suffering succotash until he awakened, realizing she was back in his room, and he smelled the delicious fragrance of home-cooked food.

“You shouldn’t have, beautiful,” he said.

“Shouldn’t have what?”

“Cooked for me.” He sniffed the air again without opening his eyes. “Smells like the Hanging H in here. I’ve missed that place.”

“That’s nice. Try to get some of this soup down your fast-talking gullet.”

Well, that didn’t sound very nice. Frog started to question her comment, realized the soup was quite tasty. “Why are you really here?”

“I told you. I want a baby.”

Alarm bells sounded in his head. He sat up, pushed the soup away. “Wait. I don’t remember any conversation about a baby.”

She laughed. “Just seeing how out of it you really are.”

“I’m not that out of it.” In fact, not only was he in pain right now, he was good and rattled. “Wait a minute, you’re not here on a baby-making mission, are you? Because that’s what Jade did to Ty, you know, and before he knew it, he was...”

She looked at him and his words trailed off. “He was what?”

“Well, married. First he was a father, of course, which he was the last one to know about, and then he was married.” Now that he thought about it, that string of events actually had a nice ring to it. “Hey! I didn’t like you kissing Squint! It looked a little enthusiastic to me, especially for a girl who’d just swum a race and should have been lacking oxygen.”

She gave him a look he would distinctly term as disbelieving. “Don’t be an ape. I don’t ask who you kiss.”

“I haven’t kissed anyone! Not since Ty dragged us all to BC for brides.” He frowned. “Now that I think about that, that’s unnatural. Kiss me.”

“I don’t think so. Eat.”

“You kissed Squint.” He didn’t want to eat. What he wanted was Suz’s mouth, and she didn’t seem too inclined to share those sexy lips of hers. “That doesn’t seem right. You would have kissed me, if I’d been at the finish line.” He experienced some serious regret that he’d had such little faith in his blue-streaked bombshell. “And you didn’t seem too pained about kissing him, either.”

“It was like kissing a big old gummy bear. Soft, and kind of sweet.” She dug a brownie out of the bag for him. “You weren’t at the finish line, so you forfeited.”

This didn’t sound promising. “So why are you really here?” Maybe she’d pursue the baby angle again. That at least sounded like it might culminate in some kissing.

“Because the committee has decided that a third race is going to have to be run.”

“What?” Frog put down his brownie. “Why?”

“Because you cheated the magic, and Daisy’s raising the roof. Says you didn’t operate under good faith and then ran off like a scared dog.” Suz looked at him and shook her head. “As much as I like to disagree with Daisy about anything and everything, she has a right to her grievance.”

“I don’t get it.” What was the deal with this town and their competitive streak?

“Daisy did win you fair and square the first time. I challenged for you, but you cheated the magic, so the committee has decided that the tie must be broken.”

“How?” He was agog by the fact that Suz would have come this far to tell him all this, which let him know the situation was serious. “What if I don’t want to come back?” This was going to start the whole you-didn’t-believe-I-could-win thing with Suz, too, and that was trouble he didn’t want between them right now. After all, he was in a comfy bed, and she was sitting on it, and romance could happen if a man was patient, right?

“If you don’t come back, I’m afraid Squint will never get Daisy.”

“Daisy doesn’t want Squint. He’s not the catch he thinks he is,” Frog groused. “I appear to be said catch.”

“And we can’t figure out why.” Suz shook her head, shooting his confidence chock-full of holes. “You certainly haven’t proven yourself on the field of battle.”

His jaw dropped. “I most certainly did!”

“BC’s field of battle,” she said. “Our battles are different.”

“I’ll say.” He was entirely disgruntled now. “Jeez, a guy makes a little mistake, and he pays. Let the wrong woman decide he’s sex candy, and he’s toast.”

“Cisco,” Suz said, and he perked up, realizing that he was Cisco again and not the hapless Frog, “it really hurt my feelings that you didn’t believe I’d win the race.”

There was the crux of the matter. He’d been a real heel, and he knew it. “I’m sorry about that, Suz. I really am. I was trying to make life easier for everyone.”

“We’re not about easy in BC. We’re about the magic.”

“I just don’t believe much in airy-fairy stuff.”

“It’s because you don’t let yourself feel it.”

“I don’t know. I got dragged to those Twilight movies. I’m telling you, I laughed at all that supposed angst. I think I’m a straight-line kind of guy, no deviating.”

“It’s probably a SEAL thing,” Suz said.

“No, Squint’s superstitious as hell. And Sam, whoa. He won’t even pet a black cat.” He bit into the brownie, which was very good, but not as good as Suz’s mouth would be, he was quite certain. “I wore a saint medal in Afghanistan that Squint gave me. Saint Michael.” He pulled it out of his shirt to show her. “I think it saved my life.”

She smiled. “Why don’t you get some rest?”

He glanced around the blue-and-white room. Suz was right: there were a few delicate doilies in the smallish room, but it was a comfortable place. The bed comforter was soft and puffy, the sheets clean and soft. The bed itself was large, but not too large that he couldn’t envision himself eventually wrapping himself around Suz’s cute, sexy little bod. There was an en suite bath, and two lamps with stained glass on either side of the bed. “I’m glad you’re here,” he said, more gruffly than he intended.

“I’m glad I’m here, too.” She got up, pulled a blanket from the large closet and an extra pillow from the shelf, tossed them onto the floor. “Get some rest. You’re going to feel the pain by morning.”

He set the brownie down, put the sack of food on the nightstand. “What are you doing?”

“I’ve been driving all day to find you. I’m going to sleep. Good night.” She snuggled down into her pallet, which did look quite comfy, but which wasn’t his bed.

“Get in bed. I promise I won’t touch you.” He wouldn’t like keeping that promise, but he couldn’t bear the thought of her sleeping on the floor.

“I’m fine. I was in the Peace Corps. This is heaven compared to some of the places I’ve slept. Will you turn off the lamp when you’re ready?”

Cisco leaned back against the pillow. This was not good. She belonged up here with him, in his arms.

But as she’d so gently pointed out, he hadn’t proved himself on the field of BC battle. In fact, it sounded like the town thought he had some ground to make up, some refurbishing of his reputation.

Which he had a feeling meant he was getting none of Suz until he performed said miracle. “Hey, Suz,” he said, leaning back over the bed to stare down at her.

She was tucked nicely into her nest of covers. She looked up at him. “Yes?”

“What kind of race are they wanting to run this time? And when is it?”

“It’s in a week. Next Saturday.”

He hesitated. There was a plum-size goiter on his ankle from where he’d gotten a little extra stomp from the bull, not to mention his general soreness and the fact that he felt like a gingerbread man, pretty one-dimensional. “You want me to swim in a week?”

Suz yawned, a delicate yawn that had him arrested by the sight of perfect teeth and a pink tongue, and a mouth he wished would kiss him. “Actually, the committee thinks the tie will go to the runner.”

“You mean it’s a Best Man’s Fork run?” This was even worse. In water, where he had the most skills and would at least be buoyant, maybe his body would hold up.

“Yes.” She smiled at him. “You should rest up. You’re going to need the restorative powers of sleep.”

He stared down into those gorgeous eyes, sunk in desire for her. “I’m going to be running with one leg tied behind my back, so to speak.”

“Now you know how I felt. I expect you’ll rise to the occasion. Good night, Cisco.” Suz rolled over, nestling down, and Cisco turned off the lamp.

He was beginning to wonder if all of Bridesmaids Creek was conspiring against him ever getting the girl. There was certainly nothing magical about their particular brand of matchmaking where he was concerned.

And he wasn’t quite sure how to turn the tide his way.

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