him. Billy was four years younger and eagerly chasing the buckle Jesse had won just last year. “I particularly liked that little twist you did when you flew into the air.” He grinned. “Right before you busted your tail.”
Jesse glared. “I’m not in the mood.”
“I wouldn’t be either if I’d just ate it in front of everyone and the horse they rode in on.”
But Jesse wasn’t concerned about everyone. Just a certain buttoned-up city official with incredible blue eyes.
He barely resisted the urge to steal one last look at her. Not that he hadn’t seen her over the years when he’d happened into town—across a crowded main street, through the dingy windows of the local feed store. It was just that those times had been few and far between because Jesse hated Lost Gun as much as the town hated him, and so he’d kept his distance.
But this was different.
She’d been right in front of him. Close enough to touch. To feel. He could still smell her—the warm, luscious scent of vanilla cupcakes topped with a mountain of frosting.
Sweet.
Decadent.
Enough to make him want to cross the dusty arena separating them, pull her into his arms and see if she tasted half as good as he remembered.
Want.
Yep, he still wanted her, all right. The thing was, he didn’t want to want her, because she sure as hell didn’t want him.
He’d thought so at one time. She’d smiled and flirted and rubbed up against him, and he’d foolishly thought she was into him. He’d been a hormone-driven eighteen-year-old back then and he’d fallen hard and fast.
He was a grown-ass man now and a damn sight more experienced. Enough to know that Gracie Stone was nothing special in the big scheme of things. There were dozens of women out there, and Jesse indulged in more than his fair share. And while they all tasted as sweet as could be at first, the sweetness always faded. The sex soon lost its edge. And then Jesse cut ties and moved on to the next.
“...can’t remember the last time you bit the bullet like that,” Billy went on. “What the hell happened? Did someone slap you with a ten-pound bag of stupid?”
Okay, maybe Gracie was a little special. She’d been the only woman in his past to break things off with him first, before he’d had a chance to lose interest.
He would have, he reminded himself.
Guaran-damn-teed.
From the corner of his eye, he watched her disappear around the holding pens. The air rushed back into his lungs, but his muscles didn’t ease.
He was still uptight. Hot. Bothered.
Stupid.
He stiffened and focused on untying the gloves from his hands.
“Alls I can say is thanks, bro,” Billy went on. “I bet a wad of cash on your ride just now. My truck payment, as a matter of fact.”
Jesse arched an eyebrow. “And you’re thanking me for losing your shirt?”
Billy clapped him on the shoulder and sent an ache through his bruised body. “I didn’t bet on you, bro. I bet against you.” He winked. “Saw that little gal come round the corner and I knew things were going to get mighty interesting.”
Forget stupid. He was pissed.
“She came to warn me,” Jesse bit out, his mouth tight. “They’re shooting a ‘Where Are They Now?’ special next week,” he told his brother. “A follow-up to Famous Texas Outlaws.”
Billy’s grin faltered for a split second. “You okay with that?”
Jesse shrugged. “I can handle my fair share of reporters. You know that.”
“True enough.” Billy nodded before sliding him a sideways glance. “But if you want a little peace and quiet, you can always send them my way.” He winked and his grin was back. “I like getting my picture taken.”
Billy had been fourteen at the time and excited about being in the limelight. He hadn’t been the least bit unnerved by the endless questions about their father’s death six years prior, because he’d been too young to really comprehend the gravity of what Silas Chisholm had done. Too young to remember the police and the accusations and the desperate search to recover the money that their father had stolen. Rather, he’d seen the media circus as a welcome distraction from an otherwise shitty life.
“Gracie wants me to lie low,” Jesse added. “She thinks it’ll help the town.”
“And here I thought she came all the way out here because she wanted a piece of PBR’s reigning champion.”
If only.
Jesse stuffed his gloves into his pocket and fought the longing that coiled inside of him.
Gracie Stone was off-limits.
She’d broken his heart and while it was all water under the bridge now, he had no intention of paddling upstream ever again.
Then again, it wasn’t his heart that had stirred the moment he’d come face-to-face with her again. Despite the years that had passed, the chemistry was still as strong as ever.
Stronger, in fact.
And damned if that realization didn’t bother him even more than the fact that he’d just landed on his ass in front of an arena full of cowboys. Since Tater Tot had been the ornery bull responsible, he’d just become that much more valuable to the two buyers now waiting inside Jesse’s office in a nearby building.
So maybe Gracie’s visit wasn’t a complete bust after all.
“I’ve got papers to sign.” He motioned to the glass-walled office that overlooked the corral. “Get your gear and get in the chute if you want a turn on Tater Tot before they pack him up and ship him out. And you’d better make it quick because we’ve got a tuxedo fitting in a half hour and the clock’s ticking.”
“Sure thing, bro.” A grin cut loose from ear to ear. “After that piss-poor display, somebody’s gotta show you how it’s done.”
3
IT TOOK EVERY ounce of willpower Gracie had to bypass the one and only bakery in Lost Gun and head for the town square.
Sure, she eased up on the gas pedal and powered down her window to take in the delicious scent of fresh-baked goodies as she rolled past Sarah’s Sweets, but still. She didn’t slam on the brakes and make a beeline for the overflowing counter inside. No red velvet cupcakes or buttercream-frosted sugar cookies for this girl. And no—repeat no—Double-Fudge Fantasy Brownies rich in trans fat and high in cholesterol.
Which explained why her hands still trembled and her stomach fluttered when she walked into City Hall.
“How’s my favorite mayor-elect?” asked the thirtysomething bleached
