pulled down a main street, and he pointed her to a nice-looking motel that he knew was clean and safe by reputation. They got out, and he turned to look at the horizon.
“Might be too late to get help now. I guess I’ll wait until tomorrow. Thanks for the ride.”
“You’re welcome. I hope your bike’s okay up there.”
“It’ll be fine. It’s far enough off the road, and if it gets stolen, well, it’s insured. I never cared for it much—touchy beast, seems like something breaks every time I take it out.” He shrugged, knowing he should be ending this conversation, but was dragging it out. Maybe the more he talked, the less he had to think about what was waiting for him back at the Slanted-W, the name of their family ranch.
She shoved her hands in the pockets of well-worn jeans that fit very snugly, he noticed when she got out of the car, and smiled as she looked out past the cactus gardens that surrounded the motel.
“Well then, bye. I guess I’ll go check in.”
As she turned and walked to the door, he couldn’t quite ignore the way her nicely shaped backside fit into those jeans, and found himself calling out again.
“Hey, Lauren.”
She turned, holding her hand up to shield her eyes from the sun.
“Since we’re both stuck here, how about catching dinner? Least I can do to thank you for the ride.”
She paused for a moment, considering, and he realized he was holding his breath.
“Thanks, but I’m really tired. I think I’m just going to turn in.”
When she turned back to the door, he couldn’t deny the bite of her rejection. This just wasn’t his day.
2
“IS HE CUTE?”
Lauren grimaced. “Cute doesn’t really cover it. Salivatingly hot, or, please-rip-my-clothes-off handsome might be a little closer to the mark. And he’s got that whole gruff, young Clint Eastwood thing going for him.”
“Wow. God, I love Clint in the old Rawhide episodes. I just got them all on DVD, just for him,” Becky sighed. “So why’d you turn him down?”
“I don’t know him. He’s just a cowboy or something.”
“Lauren, there’s no such thing as just a cowboy.”
“You’ve known a lot of cowboys I take it?”
“A few.”
She could hear the satisfaction in Becky’s voice even over the cell phone crackle. Becky was one of the most intelligent women she’d met, but Lauren wasn’t sure Becky knew the definition of monogamous. Lauren envied Becky’s lifestyle, not to mention the confidence and excitement that came with it. Seven years in a bad marriage had left Lauren severely lacking in that department. It was exactly why she was standing alone in a motel room instead of having dinner with a sexy guy who’d asked her out. Her old, fearful self just wouldn’t back down.
“I picked him up on the side of the road, and that’s not exactly a safe way to meet someone.”
“Is there a safe way to meet anyone? Nothing’s ever that cut and dried, I’m afraid. I met one of the creepiest men I’ve ever known in church.”
“You go to church?” Lauren teased.
“It was for my niece’s baptism, and don’t deflect. Your cowboy doesn’t sound like a drifter or a bum, from what you said.”
“No,” Lauren said, out of excuses. “I didn’t get that impression either.”
“So what happened to no wimps allowed?”
“There’s a difference between wimpy and stupid.”
“They sound like the same thing in this case.”
“Hey!”
“Hey back. People hook up like this all the time, Lauren. Airplanes, parties, bars. The one-night stand is an American classic, and if done right, with the right guy, it can be something that will make you smile at the memory when you’re eighty.”
Becky was right. Lauren knew she was right.
That’s why she’d called her, to get some much needed courage. Somewhere in this motel, her supersexy cowboy was sitting alone in his room. She wanted to be daring, sexy and spontaneous, but she was wimping out; she’d known Becky wouldn’t let her get away with it.
“Lauren, it’s one night. An adventure, remember? Go take your cowboy for a ride.”
Taking a deep breath, Lauren dug through her large suitcase and pried back the layers of her jeans and T-shirts to retrieve what she was looking for. Finding the package she slowly drew away the tissue, and took in the layers of luxurious black satin.
“I guess this could be as good a time as any to try out the dress,” she said with a sigh, holding the shiny fabric in her fingers. The cut of the strapless dress was deceptively simple. She’d bought it on a no-holds-barred shopping trip with Becky the day her divorce had been finalized; it had cost a fortune. She’d never worn it except in the dressing room.
She knew the silky material clung to every curve, not to mention showing off a few she hadn’t been aware of. Reaching inside her case, she found a thong, sheer strapless bra and garters with hose. She’d thought it was a waste of space in her sparse luggage, but she couldn’t bear to leave them behind.
“That dress was made just for a situation like this. He won’t stand a chance.”
“I guess I’m afraid of what might happen—what if he thinks I’m a tease, or a downright slut? What if I go down there dressed like this and can’t go through with it? What if—”
“Stop what-iffing. Breathe.”
“Becky, I was married for so long, I just don’t know.” Her doubts rang in her mind like a five-alarm fire, and she dropped the dress, watching it collapse into an onyx pool on the bed.
“Lauren, honey, Wes took seven years of your life—don’t let him keep getting in your way. You thought you were playing it safe with him, and look what you ended up with. Believe me, you need to do this. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to—it’s dinner, right? Go to a public place and make sure you have an easy exit route, but do it. And if the best happens, enjoy it. Young Clint Eastwoods aren’t easily come by these days. Enjoy yours.”
Lauren was so tempted, but was she brave enough?
“Listen, hon, gotta client calling in on the other line, gotta go. Have fun. Don’t forget the condoms…”
Condoms? “Becky, I don’t have…”
She stopped, pushing the tissue the dress had been wrapped in aside, and discovered a blue rectangular box with a black ribbon wrapped around it. Spiral specialties that studies confirmed intensified
