indulged in a fourth glass of wine while she’d waited for Mack.
Too late now.
The saloon door opened and the Cowboy Rebels walked outside, carrying their instruments. The group exchanged words then broke apart and each member went to their vehicle. Mack’s truck sat in the shadows at the back of the lot, and it wasn’t until he got within ten feet of the pickup that he saw her and applied the brakes. A slow smile spread across his face.
“How’d you know this was my ride?” His husky voice poured over her like honey and she shivered.
“The sign on the door.”
He rubbed a finger alongside his nose as if embarrassed and nodded to the magnetic sheet displaying a cowboy on a bucking horse and the band’s name and website URL printed across the background. “Had those made up a few months ago.”
An uncomfortable silence stretched between them, and Beth wondered if she’d read the signals wrong and Mack had only been teasing about sneaking away together after the bar closed. She hopped off the tailgate. “I...umm...”
Mack moved closer until only a whisper of air squeezed between their bodies. His fingers toyed with one of her hair extensions—could he tell it was fake? He tilted his head to the side to avoid bumping her face with the brim of his hat. Then he kissed her.
Sweet mercy.
The intensity of his kiss curled her toes—pure unadulterated hot, ferocious need. His mouth moved over hers with purpose, and his tongue left no doubt in her mind that he wanted her. She pressed herself against him and buried her hands in his hair, knocking his hat off. Her body had a will of its own and she rubbed the heel of her cowboy boot against the back of his calf.
When he ended the kiss, Beth gasped for air. If things went no further between them than a hot, lusty kiss in the parking lot, she’d go home a satisfied woman. Even so, tonight was about moving on with her life.
“The El Rancho Motel is a few miles from here.” The lodge was located near the neighborhood where she and Brad had bought their house.
Mack tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and the gentle gesture tweaked her heart. “You want to follow me in your car or take my truck?”
“I’ll follow.” There was no reason to give him the impression that she wanted more than a one-night stand. If all went as planned, she’d be gone before he woke in the morning.
He bent over and grabbed his hat off the ground.
She nodded to the white Lexus and he grasped her hand and walked her to the car, then waited for her to sit in the driver’s seat. “Are you sure?” His mouth hovered so close to hers, she could feel his breath.
“Very sure.” She brushed her lips over his and he groaned.
“Drive safe.” He shut the door.
Never in Beth’s thirty-one years had she envisioned herself going to a motel with a complete stranger.
Mack isn’t really a stranger. He was a popular local musician, and her gut insisted she had nothing to worry about.
Then again her gut had gotten it wrong with Brad.
“Damned tractor broke down again.” Mack’s brother Conway entered the bunkhouse and removed a bottled water from the fridge.
“Thought you finished harvesting the pecans last week,” Porter said.
“I’ve got a few acres left.” Conway nodded to Mack, juggling fruit. “What’s he up to?”
“Merle Haggard is getting ready to run off and join the circus.”
“Real funny.” Mack caught the pieces of fruit and glared at his brothers. If he wasn’t tied in knots over Just Beth he might challenge Porter to a scuffle after being called by his proper name.
Grandma Ada had insisted that their mother name all her sons after country-and-western legends because she loved their music. Mack didn’t buy the story. No matter what any of his siblings thought, he believed his mother had been dropped on her head as a baby, leaving her judgment permanently impaired. He and his brother Willie Nelson had taken nicknames after they’d entered kindergarten, and the teasing led to playground fights and weekly trips to the principal’s office.
“Can you guys be serious for a minute?” Mack asked.
“Sure,” his brothers answered in unison.
Porter Wagoner was still single like Mack, and Conway Twitty, who everyone had believed would remain single the longest, had been the second Cash brother to marry. He was already the father of six-year-old twins with another set on the way early next month. Maybe Mack should talk to his eldest brother, who always gave sound advice. “Never mind. I’ll stop by Johnny’s before I head out of town.”
“Johnny and Shannon are in Payson at a rodeo,” Conway said. “They took little Addy up there to show her off to Shannon’s friends.”
Fine. “You guys ever have a one-night stand with a woman you could swear isn’t a one-night-stand woman?”
The brothers exchanged puzzled glances then Porter spoke. “What are you talking about?”
Mack set the apples and orange in a bowl and paced in front of the TV. “I met this woman at the Number 10 Saloon last month before Christmas when the band was playing a gig there.”
“And you went back to her place after the bar closed,” Porter said.
“Am I telling this story or are you?” Mack asked.
Porter held up his hands. “Sorry.”
“So we make eye contact and—” Mack pointed his finger when Porter opened his mouth “—the sparks are there. We go to a motel—”
“Which one?” Conway asked.
“Does it matter?” Mack scowled. “We’re at the motel and while we’re becoming acquainted and...stuff, I get this feeling that she’s not really who she is. You know what I mean?”
“No,” his brothers echoed.
Frustrated, Mack shoved his fingers through his hair. “She dressed like a buckle bunny, but she drank red wine.” And she drove a Lexus.
“I’ve never dated a girl who liked wine,” Porter said.
Conway scrunched his brow. “Come to think of it, neither have I. The girls I dated drank beer.”
“Did you search for her on Google?” Porter asked.
“I’m not a stalker,” Mack said.
“What’s her name?” Porter asked. “Maybe I know her.”
“Beth.”
“Beth
