them, he’d ruined that possibility by attacking her brother and making a fool of himself in the process.
“An apology seems pretty lame under the circumstances,” he said. “But I’m offering one, anyway. I’m sorry I tried to punch out your brother.”
Her wary expression changed and she began to laugh. “Tried being the operative word. I’ve never seen you so uncoordinated, Jack.”
Her laughter helped ease the tension. “Good thing I wasn’t at my best, then. You’d be a lot more pissed at me if I’d rearranged his face.”
“He also would have rearranged yours. He might be a city boy, but he’s no slouch when it comes to a fight.”
Jack admired her loyal streak. Ten months ago, he’d been entitled to that loyalty, too. “I don’t doubt it. He’s your brother.”
That seemed to sit well with her, and she smiled. “And he’s more protective than I remembered. He told me to mention the possibility of cement overshoes.”
“In Wyoming?”
She shrugged.
“He needs to acclimate to the western way of doing things. Out here we bury people up to their necks in ant hills and pour honey on them.”
“Duly noted.” She pulled her keys out of her jeans pocket. “Ready to go?”
“Sure.” He would rather stand out here and talk until dawn the way they had the first time they’d recognized their mutual attraction.
He’d never forget that spring night. He’d flirted with her at the bar and then stayed until closing. She’d walked him out to the parking lot and they’d talked until sunup. Before he’d driven away, he’d kissed her and promised that the next night they’d do more than talk. And boy howdy, had they. They’d burned up the sheets that first night, and many nights afterward.
As he climbed into her Bronco, he realized he’d never been a passenger in her vehicle. They’d gone into Jackson a few times during the six months they’d been lovers, but he’d always driven. This reversal of roles felt weird. It threw him off his game.
When she got in, bringing with her the scent of peach schnapps, he braced himself for the tough part—being this close without touching her. They used to ride down the road with their hands entwined. A few times they’d parked somewhere secluded and made out because they couldn’t wait for the privacy of her apartment.
“Buckle up, cowboy.”
“Right.” He’d been caught staring at her and reminiscing. Not cool. He latched his seat belt and took a deep breath. “Thanks for driving me home.”
“No problem.” She started the engine. “Just where is your truck, anyway? I seriously doubt you walked into town.”
“I rode in with Gabe. We … had an errand over at Morgan’s.”
“Oh?” She pulled the Bronco onto the two-lane main road, which was deserted at this hour. “So where’s Gabe?”
“Still at Morgan’s, I’m sure.”
“Oh.” She caught the green at Shoshone’s only stoplight and headed toward the edge of town. “So they’re back together?”
“Looks like.” Jack thought it was Gabe and Morgan’s business when they announced the engagement. Although the ending to the evening could stand improvement in his case, he was happy that those two had patched things up.
“I’m beginning to get the picture.” Josie increased the Bronco’s speed as they left the town limits. “You had nowhere else to go, so you came over to my place.”
“You make it sound like a last resort.”
“Wasn’t it?”
“No. I could have.” She had him there. He had some buddies in town, but he’d made himself scarce recently because of the ranch responsibilities. After blowing his friends off every time they’d asked him to meet them for a beer, he couldn’t very well show up in the middle of the night looking for a ride home or a place on the couch.
“Reliable old Josie.” Her good humor seemed to have faded some. “A guy can always count on her to take him in, right?”
“That’s not the way I was thinking.” Fact was, he hadn’t been thinking or he would have figured out an alternative. Worse came to worse, he could have gone to Grandma Judy’s. Technically she wasn’t his grandmother. She was his stepmother, Sarah’s, mom.
She would have taken him in, though. And then told Sarah all about it the next day. He could have weathered that, but he wasn’t about to get an eighty-six-year-old woman out of bed, especially one who’d had a hip replacement barely two months ago.
“To think I imagined you’d chosen to come over to my place,” Josie said. “Instead I was just handy.”
“You have it all wrong!” The more she voiced the truth, the harder he’d deny it.
“No I don’t. Man up and admit it, Jack. I was the alternative to sleeping on a park bench, nothing more.”
“Is this why you offered to drive me home? So you could chew my ass all the way there?” Not that he blamed her.
“I offered because I’m a bartender, and I’m trained to recognize when someone is impaired and shouldn’t drive. I thought you had your truck and were about to get in it. I didn’t know you were stranded.”
“So if you’d known I didn’t have a truck to drive, you would have let me walk?”
She didn’t answer.
“You would have, wouldn’t you? Well, we can take care of that right now. Pull over.”
“No.”
“Pull over, damn it!”
“I said I’d drive you home and I will drive you home. I honor my commitments.”
“What do you mean by that crack?”
Her jaw tightened. “I think you know.”
She’d pushed him too far. Jack Chance always honored his word. “We didn’t have a commitment.”
“Oh, good one, Jack! No woman ties you down, does she? You can spend every spare minute getting naked with her, but I guess it’s all about the sex, just like you said that day, because when it comes to making a commitment, you just can’t see yourself doing that, can you?” Her voice sounded funny, sort of choked up.
He peered at her in the dim light of the dashboard. “Josie, are you crying?”
“No!” She swiped at her cheeks. “Got something in my eye.”
He didn’t buy it. She was crying, and that rattled him. In six months of being together, he’d never seen her cry. Of course, he’d broken up with her over the phone, because he couldn’t have done it in person.
