“You check in at The Boarding House yet?” Matt asked under his breath.
“An hour ago.”
“It’s not too late. You can stay out at the Lone Wolf. We’ve got a big house, trailer hookups. The inn’s overbooked, so the owner won’t have any trouble renting out your room. And my wife’s dying to meet you.”
“Hey, that’s right. You’re a married man now. Sorry I missed your wedding.”
“No problem. I warned Rachel there’d be conflicts no matter which weekend she chose.”
Ethan smiled as he passed the Safe Haven flyer he’d just signed to a middle-aged woman wearing a promotional Professional Bull Riders T-shirt from the 2010 finals, the year he wanted wiped from his memory forever. To be kept from the finals because of an injury was one thing, but to make it that far and then get hurt in the third round? Talk about fate landing a sucker punch.
This year nothing was going to keep him from the finals. Or from winning another gold buckle.
Nothing. Period.
SOPHIE SURE WISHED she’d known he was here in Blackfoot Falls for a rodeo before she’d left Wyoming. The event was a fund-raiser, so of course it wasn’t listed on the PBR tour. The whole town, which wasn’t saying much, since it was so small they had no traffic lights, was busting at the seams with rodeo fans. There was only one inn, a dude ranch twenty minutes away and a number of impromptu bed-and-breakfasts scattered around the area, all of which were booked. So was the large trailer park over thirty minutes away, not that a vacancy there would do her any good.
Somehow she had to get him alone. No clue how she was going to do it with so many fans clamoring for his attention. Those crazy people would string her up if they knew she planned to drag their favorite bull rider back to Wyoming.
The buckle bunnies worried her the most. Turning completely around so that her back was against the bar, she sipped her tonic water and watched the women practically line up, just waiting their turns to hit on Ethan.
She didn’t care one bit. If he had enough stamina to screw every last one of them, then God bless him. She was twenty-six, not a silly teenager anymore, and he no longer haunted her dreams. Though if he took one of those eager young ladies back to his room for the night, Sophie could have a problem.
It might mean she’d have to wait till morning to bag him. That left her a very narrow window before the rodeo started at noon.
Maybe she’d have to seduce him herself.
The thought sent a bolt of heat zinging through her body. A hurried sip of tonic water barely made it down her throat. He was still hot as hell. She’d be fooling herself if she couldn’t admit that much. Tall and lean with the perfect proportion of muscle, and those dreamy blue eyes... Good Lord.
Bumping into him when she first entered the bar had thrown her. She hadn’t been prepared at all. But the wig had done its job. Even up close he hadn’t recognized her, and now she was ready for him.
In the middle of signing an autograph, he swung a look at her and she shifted her weight to her other foot. Okay, maybe his gaze hadn’t landed on her but vaguely in her direction. Unfortunately her female parts couldn’t tell the difference.
Seducing him? That might have to take a few steps back to plan Z.
“Now, why are you sittin’ here drinkin’ alone, darlin’?” The same husky and very tipsy cowboy who’d offered her a beer earlier wove too close, nearly unseating the guy on her left.
She steadied Romeo with a brief hand on his shoulder. Boy, she sure didn’t need either of the men making a scene. “Are you here for the rodeo tomorrow?” she asked.
“You bet.”
“Fan or rider?”
He frowned, clearly affronted.
Sophie smiled, despite the wave of beer breath that reached her. “Better go easy on the booze if you’re competing.”
The younger cowboy sitting on the stool twisted around and grinned. “Yeah, Brady, you don’t wanna give those calves a leg up.”
Ah, they knew each other. Made sense, since they were both probably here for the rodeo. Sophie relaxed a bit, and while the two men traded barbs, she slid a glance at Ethan, who was still surrounded by women.
Oddly he didn’t seem all that interested in any of them. Not even the blondes. According to the articles and blogs she’d read earlier, his past three girlfriends had been blondes. Although it seemed he hadn’t stayed with any of them for more than a few months. Probably thought he was too hot for any one woman to handle. Or decided it was his duty to spread the hotness around.
The cowboy, whose name was apparently Brady and who continued to stand too close, said something she didn’t catch. Shifting her attention to him, she wondered if a well-placed knee could seem accidental. “Excuse me?”
He turned his head to look at Ethan. “Okay, now I see why you’re being so uppity. You’ve already got your sights set on Styles. Figures.” Lifting his beer, he mumbled, “Damn bull riders,” before taking a gulp.
Oh, crap. Was she being that obvious? “Who’s Styles?”
Brady frowned. “Are you kiddin’?”
She shook her head, the picture of innocence.
“See, Brady?” Grinning, the other cowboy elbowed him. “She’s not snubbing you ’cause you’re a calf roper. I bet she’s got a whole lot more reasons than that.”
Sophie ignored the troublemaker. “A calf roper?”
“That’s right, darlin’. You’re lookin’ at a two-time champ.”
“So you’re one of those guys who chases the poor little calves and then ties them up?”
Brady’s boastful grin slipped. “It’s all for sport, darlin’, don’t you understand?”
“No, I don’t. Not at all.” She faked a shudder. “I always feel so sorry for the calves.”
Even the guy sitting on the stool had shut up and swiveled around to face the other way. Brady just stared at her, then shook his head and walked off.
Sophie hid a smile behind a sip of tonic and turned back to Ethan. He was watching her. This time there was nothing vague about it. He gave her a slow smile and a small nod. She had no idea what that was supposed to mean. Other than she might need something stronger than tonic water.
Her nipples had tightened, and thank God the room was dim, because her entire body blushed. He couldn’t have overheard her taunting Brady, not from over twenty feet away and with all the noisy laughter competing with the jukebox. And no way did Ethan recognize her.
He’d been a senior the year she started at Wattsville High, so he hadn’t seen her in eleven years. She doubted he’d recognized her even once since the day he rescued her. How many
