where they’d made love in front of the cheery—and romantic, if he did say so himself—fire he’d built in the fireplace. A strange spot on the blanket caught his eye; dumbly he stared at the stain. And that’s when he realized that Cricket Jasper had been keeping secrets. She hadn’t offered him the slightest clue that she’d been a virgin, which felt somehow as if she’d cheated.
She wasn’t a virgin anymore. Now it stung like crazy that she hadn’t hung around for a goodbye kiss. Jack felt worse than at any time in his life, even when he’d been thrown flat on his backside—and maybe even stomped—by an assorted collection of ill-tempered bulls, as he tossed the blanket into the washing machine.
Cricket’s desertion served as a reminder of the other people in his life who seemed to move on without saying goodbye. He didn’t have to put up with this crap. After he’d tidied up the place so that no one would ever know he’d been there, Jack grabbed his stuff and headed back to the one place he knew was a safe harbor—the rodeo circuit.
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