Lonesome Ryder. Carol Finch

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it was wearing him out.

      He frowned disapprovingly when he managed to drag his eyes off Laura’s shapely body and noticed Frank was at her heels. “What’s he doing in the house? He’s a cow dog.”

      Laura reached down to pat Frank’s damp head. “I thought you might enjoy having Frank around for company, so Duff and I bathed him and applied some flea and tick medication.”

      “I don’t want him in the house,” Wade insisted.

      “Sure you do,” she contradicted as she crossed the room.

      Her wet clothes demanded his attention again and he gritted his teeth against the insane urge to reach out and map the exquisite terrain of her feminine body. Well hell, so much for trying to stifle the desire that looking at her engendered. Arousal was becoming the conditioned response to seeing her. Damnation, he was turning into a basket case!

      “Frank, you stay here and visit with Wade while I start supper,” she ordered, then headed for the kitchen. “Duff should be here soon.”

      “Ooofff.” Wade grunted when Frank bounded onto his lap and sat there staring happily at him. Wade sighed in defeat and scratched behind Frank’s ear.

      The woman was definitely taking over his home and his life, he realized. She dominated his thoughts, too. And lately, most of those thoughts originated below his belt buckle.

      When Frank used Wade’s crotch as a springboard to bound from the chair, he grimaced uncomfortably. He muttered a salty curse when Frank trotted to the kitchen to rejoin Laura. Damn dog had turned traitor and was getting attached to Laura.

      Wade sat there in his chair, wondering how much longer he could hold out against this woman’s devastating charms. She’d rearranged his life, left her memory all around his house and she had him wanting her to the extreme. He honestly wondered if the self-control he’d taken for granted for years could fortify him until she was out from underfoot. Wade had the uneasy feeling that one of these days he’d buckle to this inevitable attraction and wind up getting hurt all over again.

      Would Laura be as hard on his heart as Bobbie Lynn had been? Wade liked to think not, but he still wasn’t sure he wanted to take the risk of caring and finding out for sure.

      “NO, NO, NO, YA DON’T CLAMP a cigar between your teeth like that,” Duff instructed. “Hold that bad boy like this.”

      Laura watched her mentor of newly acquired vices bite down on his stogie and then she imitated his technique.

      “That’s better,” Duff said. “Now squint your eyes a bit and look down at the cards in your hand. Don’t change expression, either. That’s a dead giveaway that you’re holding something good.”

      Laura conjured up the somber expression that was Wade’s trademark then studied her poker hand. She glanced at the paper Duff had filled out so she’d know if a flush beat a straight and where a full house fit in the winning sequences.

      “Now, casually take a sip of beer,” Duff told her. “And slouch in your chair a bit. You look as if you’re ready to pounce. Nonchalance is the name of the game here.”

      Laura draped herself negligently in her chair and took another sip of beer. It wasn’t her beverage of choice, but in Duff’s book of etiquette, poker and beer went together like peanut butter and jelly.

      “Gimme two,” Duff requested as he puffed his stogie and squinted at his hand of cards.

      “You bet, slick. The dealer takes one.”

      While Laura dealt the cards, Wade lingered by the kitchen door, feeling like an outsider in his own home. Earlier, while he was eating alone in the living room, he’d heard Duff and Laura jabbering and laughing and he’d turned an unbecoming shade of envy green because he wasn’t in there enjoying her company when he really wanted to be.

      Duff, he noticed, had gotten all gussied up to join Laura at the table for dinner. You’d have thought the old coot was on a date, considering he’d shaved the stubble off his face and ironed his striped Western shirt and jeans.

      Wade smiled in amusement as he watched Laura emulate Duff’s gestures and puff on the cigar she had clenched between her teeth. Well hell, he just couldn’t take this feeling of isolation another minute. He was going to limp in there and invite himself into the game. With Duff as a buffer he could share an enjoyable evening with Laura without doing something stupid—like kissing her senseless the way he wanted to.

      Laura glanced up when Wade rounded the corner. He barked a laugh when she gave him an one-eyed squint, her poker face intact, her stogie tilted at a jaunty angle. “Better have your ATM card handy if you want to join in this game, ace,” she drawled playfully. “This is high stakes, y’know.”

      Wade’s gaze dropped to the stack of pennies on the table then he hobbled over to retrieve what was left of the whiskey he’d poured down his gullet the first night Laura arrived.

      “Duff says beer suits poker better,” Laura informed him.

      “I’m sticking with Daniel’s.” Wade filled two glasses. “What’s up with this need to learn to play poker, Seymour?”

      She shrugged casually. “I’ve led a sheltered life up to this point, so I’ve decided to broaden my horizons and Duff is helping me. Are you in on this hand, Ryder? Or do you want to sit there and nurse your whiskey?”

      “I’m in. What’s the game?” Wade awkwardly parked himself in a chair while Duff dealt the hand.

      “Seven card stud, stud,” Laura replied, grinning playfully around the stogie clamped in her teeth. “Duff’s teaching me a variety of games tonight.”

      “She’s beaten me at half of ’em, too,” Duff said. “Even for a beginner, this little gal is dang lucky at cards.”

      Wade took a quick peek at the two cards in the hole, then watched Duff deal four cards face up. He darted a glance at Laura’s exposed hand and he nearly choked on his booze. Three aces stared back at him. His accusing gaze swung to Duff who wore a wry grin. The old rascal was cheating. He had to be. He was letting Laura win to ensure she had a good time.

      Sure enough, Laura breezed through the first two hands and collected all the pennies. After fifteen minutes of one incredible hand after another, no matter which game Duff suggested, Laura raked in the winnings.

      “Go ahead and play without me,” she insisted as she snuffed out her stogie. “I left a load of laundry in the dryer and I better remove it before everything wrinkles.”

      She leaned over to give Duff an affectionate peck on the cheek before she strode off. When Laura kissed Duff, Wade swore the old man died, right there in his chair, and went straight to heaven. Wade glanced over his shoulder, noting the sly smile on Laura’s lips—and he realized the woman was far cleverer than he’d given her credit. He’d bet his last penny that she’d purposely invited Duff to the house to treat him to a home-cooked meal and harmless female companionship, before luring in Wade so he could enjoy their company. Since Wade had made it clear he wanted to keep his distance from Laura, she’d ensured that he didn’t spend all his evenings alone. Frank, who was sprawled on the living-room floor, catching a few Zs, was another example of her wily strategy.

      “That’s some woman,” Duff murmured as he dealt a hand

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