made Trace smile. The guy was dreaming if he thought he could get anywhere near her. Maybe he should let Sam find out what Nikki would do to a hound dog like him. The woman was small and beautiful, but she was tough. Get her mad enough and she had a mouth that could make a sailor blush. She also knew how to swing a two-by-four. Trace had seen it for himself.
“What the hell you grinning at?” Frowning, Sam glanced around, saw that the boys from the Sundance hadn’t made a move. He seemed to relax and said, “You don’t stake your claim, then I’m gonna have me a taste of that honey.”
Trace really wanted to plant a fist in his face but he saw Nikki coming toward the back. No time to smooth things over, and he sure didn’t want to start a fight, not in here. Sadie would probably ban him from the place. Knowing he was taking a risk, he waited until Nikki reached them, then he leaned his cue against the wall. What the hell…he could keep a straight face and the odds were in his favor.
“Go ahead, tell her what you just said.” Trace folded his arms across his chest and smiled a little, just enough to make Sam second-guess himself.
He squinted at Trace, trying to gauge whether he was bluffing or really did know something Sam didn’t. The fact was, since his sister and Nikki’s brother had gotten cozy, Trace knew Nikki better than anyone in the bar, which wasn’t saying much, but made for a hell of a bluff.
“What?” Nikki held her empty tray against her hip and looked expectantly at Sam. “You wanted something?”
He shot her a glance but didn’t answer. The other hands were still hanging around, waiting to see Sam turn tail. They all knew him, and had probably arrived at the same conclusion as Trace. Sam couldn’t afford to bring on Sadie’s wrath. The Watering Hole was his hunting ground. He’d already gone through the eligible local women, been threatened with an angry father’s shotgun—twice—so that left him with the Sundance guests. And this was the best place to meet the new batch of single women who checked in each week.
“I don’t have all night, Sam,” Nikki said, impatience flashing in her brown eyes.
They looked darker in the dim bar lighting. Normally, if he looked closely, Trace could see gold flecks. That is, when he wasn’t fascinated by the shape of her wide generous mouth. He liked the way her lips turned up slightly at the corners.
“Another beer,” Sam said, moving closer to her, and when her eyes narrowed in warning, he stopped and set his empty bottle on her tray. “Please, darlin’.”
“I hope you’re not driving.” Her gaze slid over the front of his Western-cut shirt to the sloppy untucked hem. “Are you?”
“Ah, you worried about me?”
“No,” she said with a short laugh. “I don’t want you running into anyone.”
Trace smiled. The other guys chuckled.
Sam had to be about six-one because Trace was only taller by an inch or so. And Nikki was on the petite side, maybe five-four. so when Sam leaned toward her, it was hard to guess his intention, but he was asking for trouble no matter what he had in mind.
She tensed, and so did Trace.
Sam whispered something in her ear, then slowly drew back, a stupid grin on his face.
Nikki shook her head. “You keep on dreaming,” she said in a dry tone. “See how that works out for you.” She turned to Josh and Lucas. “Y’all want another beer?”
Her slight Southern drawl came out when she was irritated or excited or caught off guard. Trace didn’t have to guess at how she was feeling right now. She didn’t care for Sam, which seemed hard for the idiot to believe so he’d continued to make a jackass out of himself.
Trace watched her finish taking drink orders, collect empties and then start to leave. “What about me?”
She arched her brows at him. “What about you?”
“I need another beer.”
“You still have half a bottle left.”
“It’s warm.”
Eyeing him with suspicion, she made room on her tray as he walked over to give her the bottle. “You do this all the time.”
“Do what?” He reached for his Stetson before he remembered it wasn’t sitting on his head but on a wall peg in the corner. To cover the gaffe, he plowed his fingers through his hair. It was too long, hugging the back of his neck and curling at his collar.
“Tell you what,” Nikki said, her gaze fixed on his hand before slowly moving to his face. “Switch to tap. I’ll give you half a mug at a time and ask Sadie to charge you for a kiddie portion.”
Sam laughed, and so did the rest of the guys. But Trace didn’t care. Nikki hadn’t looked at any of them the way she’d just looked at him. The heat had lasted only a moment. If he’d blinked he would’ve missed the flicker of awareness in her eyes, the brief parting of her lips as she tipped her head back to meet his gaze.
“I’ll stick to bottles, and don’t worry about me leaving some behind.” He leaned in just like Sam had and whispered so only she could hear, “I do have to drive.”
She reared back and looked at him as if he’d lost his mind, then let out a startled laugh. “Maybe I should cut you off now.”
Better she thought he was being weird or tipsy than figure out he was trying to outdo Sam. Everyone was quiet, stepping aside to clear a path for her, though any minute Josh and the other hands were gonna bust from curiosity. Same with Sam, even if he was trying to appear cool.
Fighting a smile and shaking her head, Nikki left to fill their orders. He wished she’d laid one of her rare but dazzling smiles on him. He could’ve gotten a lot of mileage out of that, but Trace figured her answer was vague enough that he’d be able to mess with Sam a while longer.
Already Trace was paying for his mischief. She was halfway across the bar yet he could still smell her. Just like her sexy almond-shaped eyes and lightly golden skin, her scent was exotic, kind of mysterious. It seemed to cling to his shirt, the walls, the air around him. No wonder his pool game had been crap lately. His concentration was shot. Sure didn’t help that he couldn’t seem to drag his gaze away from the sway of her hips.
He’d finally convinced himself to return to the game when he saw a Sundance guest call Nikki over to her table. The woman’s name was Karina, which he hadn’t known until tonight, and only because she’d been hanging around the pool room earlier. She’d arrived yesterday and was blonde like so many of the guests, but easy to distinguish since she towered over all of them.
She wasn’t just tall, but close to six feet kind of tall. Behind her back Sam called her The Amazon, but mainly, Trace suspected, because he’d made a play for her and she hadn’t been interested. Trace liked her fine. It was refreshing to have a guest who actually wanted to watch a game of pool and not breathe down a guy’s neck.
Nobody in the family had wanted to go the dude ranch route. Both his brothers had hated the idea. They were all cattlemen, just like every McAllister man before them. Swallowing their pride left a bitter taste, though Cole and Jesse got off easier than him.
Cole ran the cattle
