Lounge was kind of a throwback really—a throwback to earlier times, when cattlemen had their own private clubs where the women didn’t trespass. In the Lounge, the lights were kept soothingly low. The bar was long and made of gleaming burled wood. It had comfortable conversation areas consisting of dark wood tables and fat studded-leather chairs. Women seemed to avoid the Lounge. They tended to prefer the more open, modern bar in the upscale Gallatin Room, or the cowboy-casual style of the bar in the Rib Shack.
The Lounge was perfect for the mood he was in.
He found it as he’d hoped it might be—mostly deserted. One lone customer sat up at the bar. A woman, surprisingly enough. A brunette. Jace liked the look of her instantly, which surprised him. As a rule lately, it didn’t matter how hot or good-looking a woman was. He just wasn’t interested. Not on any level.
But this woman was different. Special. He sensed that at first sight.
She had a whole lot of thick, tousled brown hair tumbling down her back. In the mirror over the bar, he could see that she had big brown eyes and full, kissable lips. She was dressed casually, in jeans and a giant white shirt, untucked. She wore very little makeup.
And the best thing about her? She seemed so relaxed. Like she wasn’t after anything except to sip her margarita and enjoy the quiet comfort of the Lounge.
She saw him watching her in the mirror over the bar. For a second or two, their eyes met. He felt a little curl of excitement down inside him before she glanced away. Instantly, he wanted her to glance at him again.
Surprise. Excitement. The desire that a certain woman might give him a second look. These were all emotions with which he’d become completely unfamiliar.
Yeah, all right. It wasn’t news that he used to be something of a player. But in the past six months or so? Uh-uh. He was tired of being a ladies’ man—like he was tired of just about everything lately. Including finding the right woman and settling down.
Because, yeah, Jason had tried that. Or at least, he’d wanted to try it with a certain rich-girl swimsuit model named Tricia Lavelle.
It hadn’t worked out. In fact, the whole experience had been seriously disheartening.
A cell phone on the bar started ringing. The brunette picked it up, scowled at the display and then put it to her ear. “What do you want?” She let out an audible sigh. “You’re not serious. Oh, please, Kenny, get real. It’s over. Move on.” She hung up and dropped the phone back on the bar.
Jace took the stool next to her and signaled the bartender. “Jack Daniels, rocks.” The bartender poured and set his drink in front of him. “And another margarita,” Jace added. “For the lady.”
“No, thanks.” She shook her head at the barkeep and he left them alone. Then she turned to Jace and granted him a patient look from that fine pair of enormous brown eyes. “No offense,” she said.
“None taken.”
“And don’t even think about it, okay? I’m on a solo vacation and right now, I hate men.”
He studied her face. It was such a great face. One of those faces a guy could look at forever and still find new expressions in it. “Already, I really like you.”
“Didn’t I just say I hate men?”
“That makes you a challenge. Haven’t you heard? Men love a challenge.”
“I’m serious. Don’t bother. It’s not gonna happen.”
He faced the rows of liquor bottles arrayed in front of the mirror over the bar and shrugged. “Okay, if you’re sure.”
She shot him a look. “Oh, come on. Is that the best you’ve got?”
He leaned his head on his hand and admired the way the dim barroom light somehow managed to bring out glints of auburn in her thick, wavy dark hair. “Uninspired, huh?”
She almost smiled. “Well, yeah.”
“Story of my life lately. I’ve got no passion for the game.”
“What game?”
He shrugged again. “Any game.”
She considered that. “Wow,” she said finally. “That’s sad.”
“Yeah, it is, isn’t it?”
She frowned and then looked at him sideways. “Wait a minute. Stop right there, buddy. I’m on to you.”
“Oh? What am I up to?”
“You sit there looking gorgeous and bored. I find I have a longing to bring some life back into your eyes. I let you buy me another margarita after all. I go home with you. We have wild, hot, incredible sex. But in the morning, you’re looking bored again and I’m feeling cheap and used.”
He decided to focus on the positive. “You think I’m gorgeous?”
“That was not my point. It was a cautionary tale.”
“I think you’re gorgeous,” he said and meant it. “And that’s kind of a breakthrough for me.”
“A breakthrough.” She was not impressed. “You’re kidding me.”
“I am as serious as a bad blind date. You’re the first woman I’ve felt attracted to in months. Who’s Kenny?”
She shook a finger at him. “You listened in on my phone call.”
“Not exactly. I overheard your phone call.”
“I’m just saying it was a private conversation and I don’t even know your name.”
“Jason Traub. Call me Jace.” He offered his hand.
She took it. “Jocelyn Marie Bennings. Call me Joss.”
It felt good, he realized, just to hold her hand. It felt… comfortable. And exciting, too. Both at once. That was a first—for him anyway. As a rule, with women, it was one or the other. He didn’t want to let go. But in the end, it wasn’t his choice.
She eased her hand free. “My wedding was supposed to be a week ago today. Kenny was the groom.”
“Supposed to be? You mean you didn’t marry him?”
“No, I didn’t. And I should have backed out long before the wedding day. But Kenny and I were together for five years. It was going to be a beautiful wedding. You should see my wedding gown. I still have it. I couldn’t bear to get rid of it. It’s fabulous. Acres of beading, yards of the finest taffeta and tulle. We planned a nice reception afterward at my restaurant.”
“You own a restaurant?”
“No. I mean the restaurant I was managing, until I quit to marry Kenny. I gave up a great job for him. Just like I gave up my cute apartment, because I thought I wouldn’t need either anymore.”
“But then you didn’t marry Kenny.”
“I
