Chapter Two

“What the hell are you doing?” Cody’s voice echoed off the rafters, causing the horses, innocently lounging in their stalls, to jump.

Logan shot him a snarky grin. “Working. Like we agreed.”

Cody frowned at the scoop of oats Logan was emptying into Gotham’s feedbag. “You know damn well that’s not what I meant when I asked you to come this weekend.”

“On the contrary. This is exactly what I thought you meant when you asked me to come . . . and you know it.”

Angling his long body to the side, Cody leaned against the stall. Gotham lipped his ear and he scratched the gelding’s neck. “Come on, Logan. Play ball here.”

Logan quirked a brow. “Interesting choice of words.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Again, I believe I do.” He bit back a smile at Cody’s consternation. It was so rarely that he was able to see that particular expression on Cody’s face. Not that his friend was a Golden Child with a perfect life, but he kind of was. Everything had always gone perfectly for Cody. He was handsome, witty, well liked. He’d even been able to turn around the financial decimation his father had left him.

He never had to deal with reality like normal humans. He just created his own reality. Normally, it didn’t bug Logan, but this time it did.

“I’m not getting on that stage,” he said as he reached for the shovel to muck out a stall. With any luck, he could get some on Cody’s shoes.

“Give me that.” A tussle ensued, which Cody won, but only because Logan let him. “You’re not here to muck stalls.”

“I’m not? Then what am I here for exactly?”

Cody sucked in a breath, but didn’t respond. Logan noticed that his eyes flicked away. A dead giveaway that Cody was up to something. “I just thought it would be, you know, fun for you to participate this weekend.”

“And on what planet, what universe, what skewed dimension would posing as a stripper ever be fun?”

“Dude. I’m not asking you to strip—”

“Well, that’s a mercy.”

“I’m just asking you to participate.”

Logan narrowed his eyes. “Participate?”

“You know. Socialize.” Cody’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “With the women.”

He thrust his thumb out at the barnyard, though most of the flibbertigibbets had gone into the ranch house. “Those women?”

“Okay. All right. I admit it, most of them are a . . . little young for you—”

“A little young?” Shit. They’d been wet behind the ears. And chewing gum for Christ’s sake. All but one of them . . .

He forced the thought of her from his mind. Because she made him hard and he didn’t want to give Cody any ideas. Although, upon reflection, Cody already had ideas. Too damn many of them.

“But you have to admit . . .” His friend’s gaze went a little too mischievous for Logan’s liking. “There might have been one or two of them you’d like to, ahem, pursue.”

The other shoe dropped and Logan’s jaw dropped with it. “Holy crap. Are you trying to fix me up?”

Cody’s insanely long lashes fluttered. “Who, me?”

“Christ, Cody—”

“You have to admit, you are getting a little long in the tooth to be a bachelor.”

“Have you been talking to my mother?” Logan frowned. “And what the hell are you trying to imply? You’re still single and you’re six months older than me.”

“I’m not the marrying type.”

“And I am?”

“Look. I knew she’d be here and I know you had a thing for her in high school—”

And it all fell into place.

Was forcing him to spend a precious weekend posing as man candy at a sleazy bachelorette party Cody’s moronic way of matchmaking? Judging from his expression, it was.

“Shit.” Logan turned away and raked his fingers through his hair. Hell. He should have known, the moment he saw her. He should have suspected . . . An odd mixture of mortification and hope sluiced through his bowels. He wasn’t sure he liked it.

“This could be your chance with her, Logan.” Something in Cody’s tone snagged his attention and he stilled. It was true. It could be.

“A lot of water has gone under the bridge since high school, Cody.” She hadn’t noticed him then. Why on earth could he expect things to be different?

But she had looked at him this afternoon. She’d seen him. He hadn’t imagined the ripple of energy between them. Had he?

“I know. But you’re different. She’s different. Who knows what might happen if you sidle up to her. Ask her to dance.”

Logan snorted something that might have been a laugh. Or not. “If I ask her to dance, I know what will happen.”

“You do?”

“I’ll smash her toes.” He liked to think he was all suave and slick now that he was a successful businessman, but the fact of the matter was, he’d never really conquered the dance floor and probably never would. Not with two left feet.

“Okay. So no dancing. But you should come along on the hayride this afternoon. Cut her from the herd. Talk to her.”

Talk to her?

He had no idea why the idea sent fear shooting through him. But along with it was an exhilarating thrill.

Talk to her.

He’d never really done that before. The last time he’d seen her he’d croaked out a platitude, but that hardly counted. And it had been years ago. Surely he was more suave than he had been. At least slick enough to speak to her.

“Tell me you’ll come.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Promise me you’ll come.” Logan didn’t understand the thread of intensity in Cody’s tone.

“I said I’ll think about it.” He didn’t mean to snap, but it felt good. Cody was an annoying prick sometimes.

“Great. See you then.”

Logan glowered at him but Cody only smirked as he turned on his heel to leave the barn.

“Oh, and Logan?” he said, as he paused at the door.

“Yeah?”

“Be sure to take a shower first.”

“Why?”

Cody’s grin was evil. “Because you smell like the barn.”

***

“Well, this is nice.” Sidney tossed herself onto Hanna’s bed, rumpling the covers. Her long blond curls splayed untidily over the pillows.

Hanna frowned at her sister, but didn’t mention that it might be construed as rude to rumple someone else’s bed. Sidney had never been a fan of Mom’s hospital-corner philosophy. As kids, they’d been expected to have their beds made so tightly a quarter would bounce off them. But Sidney, as always, rebelled against that.

She rebelled against everything.

“Don’t you think it’s nice?” Sidney prompted, as though she knew of Hanna’s annoyance and wanted to needle her a little. Because, after all, that’s what Sidney did best.

“It’s very nice,” Hanna said dutifully, glancing around the room. It was artfully styled with a large four-poster, antique dresser, and a small table by the window. The art on the wall was subdued and simple. Country scenes. Hardly the bordello she had expected.

“Nice.” Sidney growled playfully. “Oh, come on, Hanna. Unclench. We’re here to have a good time.” She riffled the pillows. “Get messy.”

“Please don’t mess up the pillows.” Hanna shooed her sister off the bed and straightened the duvet and then reorganized the decorative pillows in a pleasing manner.

Better.

Sidney blew out a breath and flopped onto her own bed. “Brother. Heaven forbid the blanket should be wrinkled.”

“I like it tidy.” She liked everything tidy. It seemed so much more . . . controllable that way. Though it was probably an illusion. Life rarely was controllable.

The only time she allowed herself total freedom was with her art. Oh, that . . . that got messy. Hanna tried to ignore the fact that painting was the only thing she seemed to enjoy anymore . . . and it was the only messy thing she allowed in her life. Everything else was carefully planned and controlled. Even her impending marriage had been a choice of meticulous logic.

Again, a little fire flared in her chest.

The temptation to release her hold on the reins, to allow herself to be free of restrictions, to wallow in the color and the fiber of life was too strong. It had been tugging at her a lot lately, and the more she tried to convince herself that the order she’d created was for the best, the more her heart ached.

Probably better not to think about it at all.

Amy pierced her dour reflection, as she burst through the open door. She had a tendency to do that, burst into rooms. She was too full of energy and passion for life to do less.

Hanna had met Amy while studying at the Sorbonne in Paris. They’d hit it off immediately and remained close friends ever since. She now owned an art gallery in Dallas.

She was a wonderful friend, not tidy or restrained in the slightest. Hanna loved spending time with her, though they didn’t get together as often as she would have liked, now that she was living in Snake Gully and Amy lived in the city. Amy had a way of making Hanna feel wild and free, at home in her skin. And, unlike Zack, she supported Hanna’s passion for painting wholeheartedly.

“Lookie who I found lurking in the barnyard and ogling the hotties,” Amy crowed, tugging a jean-clad woman with a long dark ponytail into the room.

“Porsche!” Hanna couldn’t hold back her squeal. She dashed over to wrap her friend into her arms. Though they were apart in years—indeed, when she was a teen, Hanna had been Porsche’s babysitter—they’d become very close. Porsche had since moved to Dallas, but they remained good friends. It was wonderful to see her.

“I was not lurking,” Porsche said primly.

“But you were ogling.” Yeah. Sidney was one to talk.

Porsche flashed a grin and shrugged. “It’s a tough job, but someone’s gotta do it.”

“I’m so glad you’re here.” Hanna hugged her again. “All the way from Dallas?”

“How could I miss this? The second Sidney told me about this party, I started making plans.” Porsche flopped onto Hanna’s bed, mussing the pillows, but Hanna swallowed any rebuke. She could straighten them after Porsche left, and she was far too pleased to see her friend to complain. Instead she sat beside her and gave her another hug.

“Plans?” Sidney’s ears perked up.

Porsche waggled her eyebrows. “Tequila.”

“Excellent.” Sidney rubbed her hands together. “Where is it?”

“It’s for tonight, silly . . . We can crack it open after the hayride.”

“After the hayride?” Sidney wrinkled her nose.

“Trust me. Cody uses a diesel tractor. It can get stinky. We don’t want anyone having, you know, an accident.” Though Porsche spoke like an experienced woman, Hanna knew she’d just turned twenty-one. Still and all, it was probably good advice.

“Sounds, um, lovely.” Amy’s expression was comical.

“I vote if anyone gets sick, we dump them over the side,” Sidney said with a laugh.

“No one gets dumped over the side.” Seriously? Did it need to be said?

“Hanna, you’re such a party pooper.”

It was probably not very mature to stick her tongue out at her sister, but it felt good. Besides, they were all only kidding. Probably.

“Well, I am happy to see you, Porsche. Tequila or not,” Hanna said. “But why didn’t you come with us on the bus?”

Porsche chuckled. “Because first of all,” she said as she ticked off a finger, “I stopped in to see Ford and Crystal on the way here.” Porsche’s brother lived on the ranch next door. “It seemed stupid to go all the way into town to catch the bus.”

“True.” Sidney nodded sagely.

“And secondly . . .” She wrinkled her nose. “I heard Tibby was on the bus.”

“Tibby.” Both Hanna and Sidney wrinkled their noses in solidarity. They’d all grown up in Snake Gully. They all knew Tibby well.

“With any luck, she’ll get distracted like she did last time—”

Hanna gaped at Porsche in shock. “Wait. You’ve been here before?” It was hard to imagine Ford—who was terribly overprotective—allowing his baby sister to frolic with strippers.

Porsche grinned. “Did I mention my brother lives next door? Cody’s ranch is a hop, skip, and a jump from there.”

“You did.” There was a bite in Sidney’s tone. It was a well-known fact that Porsche had a mad crush on Cody too. Though Sidney and Porsche were friends, there had always been an element of man-rivalry between them.

But seriously, didn’t everyone have a crazy crush on Cody?

Well, except Hanna.

“I come over all the time when I’m in town.” Porsche affected an innocent look. “Claire and I are besties.”

“Surely it’s not to see Cody,” Sidney murmured.

“Claire and I are besties. I think I mentioned that.”

“You did.” Sidney put out a lip.

“Who’s Claire?” Amy asked, though she probably only asked to defuse the brewing tension between Porsche and Sidney.

“She’s Cody and Cade’s sister,” Hanna said with a smile. “They all run the ranch together.”

“Not to mention Lisa makes fabulous pastries,” Porsche continued.

“And who’s Lisa?” Amy asked.

“Cade’s fiancé.”

Hanna’s jaw dropped. “Wait. Cade is engaged?” She’d always liked Cody’s brother, who was a retired soldier and a member of the volunteer fire department. But of the two brothers, he was by far the more reserved. It was a shock that he tumbled for a woman before Cody.

But then again, maybe not. It was highly unlikely Cody would ever tumble.

“You remember Lisa Binder, don’t you?” Porsche asked.

“Of course. But I thought she left town.”

“She came back. And she’s the ranch baker. You’ll gain five pounds this weekend, I promise.”

“That’s not a good promise,” Hanna felt compelled to mention, but Porsche merely chuckled.

“I also promise you’ll have a good time this weekend,” she said with a wink.

“No kidding,” Sidney said. “Those guys are gorgeous. Did you see that one with the tats?”

“So yummy,” Amy purred. “But I think I liked the bald guy best.” She made her way to the window, held back the gingham checked curtains and gazed down at the yard. “Look at him.”

Sidney joined her at the window and together they reviewed the prospects, chattering merrily on the other side of the room.

“So. You did it.” Porsche’s comment was so soft Hanna nearly missed it.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You did it. You accepted his proposal.”

Ah. Hanna stilled and took a breath before she glanced at Porsche. Something in her tone gouged at her. “I did.”

Porsche’s lips tightened. She looked away.

Though she didn’t respond verbally, her physical reaction was disconcerting. “What?”

“Nothing.” Porsche batted her lashes, making it clear that it wasn’t nothing.

“Porsche, please.”

She sighed heavily and glanced over her shoulder at the others, who were embroiled in a debate about the merits of fur or no fur. “It’s just that . . .”

“What?”

A shrug. “Ford doesn’t like him.”

A familiar lurch tugged at her stomach. Porsche’s brother was a solid, well-respected rancher who, like Hanna, had lived in Snake Gully most of his life. He was good-natured and easygoing and liked just about everyone. “How do you know?”

“He told me.” Porsche dropped into a chair and folded her fingers. “When you and Zack broke up, when you went to Paris . . . Ford was really happy for you. He said he was worried that you . . .”

“Worried that I . . . what?”

“That you and Zack would end up together.”

Hanna’s gut clenched. “Wh-why would he worry?”

A shrug. “Just talk.”

“There’s always talk.” And according to Zack, it was inspired by nothing more than the jealousy of his rivals. In fact, with the exception of one incident in high school, when he’d had too much to drink and tried to take liberties, he’d never been anything but gentlemanly and sweet around her. Surely the stories were nothing more than that.

Porsche nodded. “Just . . .”

“What?”

“Be careful around him.”

Hanna stilled. What an odd thing to say. “He’s my fiancé.”

“I know. I only want you to be happy, Hanna. Does he make you happy?”

Oh. Dear. How did one answer that question? What was happiness, really? Unable to formulate any words, she nodded mutely. Porsche stared at her for a moment, as though she really didn’t believe Hanna’s conviction, if there had been any, and then she patted her hand. “I just want you to be happy.”

“Thank you, Porsche.”

It was an awkward conversation and Hanna was relieved when the moment was punctured by Sidney’s gasp. “Did you see that?” she crowed.

“Oh, my, yes.” Amy shot a glance at Hanna. “That guy just bench-pressed Tibby.”

Porsche snorted. “Someone needed to bench-press Tibby. God, she’s annoying.”

“I hear that.” Amy rolled her eyes.

Hanna smiled. “Come on, give her a chance. You just met her.”

“An hour and a half on a bus with her? Yeah. I’ve seen enough. She’s a vulture, that one. I don’t like the look in her eyes.”

“Now stop. She’s going to be my sister-in-law.”

Sidney’s expression soured. “You have my sympathy.”

“All I gotta say,” Amy chimed in, “is that this Zack guy had better be pretty hot for you to get stuck with that as an in-law.” She thrust her thumb at the window.

“He’s cute.”

It was a surprise the way all their heads whipped around at this, the way their eyes narrowed as they studied her.

“Cute?” Porsche tipped her head to the side.

“Just cute?” Amy parroted Porsche’s stance.

“He’s a great guy. A wonderful guy. Just wait till you meet him.”

Hanna ignored Sidney’s snort. Sidney had never been a fan of Zack. There was no point trying to convince her. No point trying to convince any of them. It was her decision to marry him. Her life. Not theirs.

“Yeah. Just wait till you meet him.”

“Be nice, Sidney.”

“I’m trying, Hanna. God knows I’m trying. But hell, he’s a stick.”

“He’s very polite.”

“He’s too polite.”

Hanna laughed. “Is there such a thing as too polite?”

“There is if it’s all an act.” Sidney plopped down on the bed and hugged a pillow. “I never liked him.”

“I’d noticed.”

“He sets my teeth on edge. The way he comes over and calls Dad ‘Mr. Stevens.’”

“That is his name . . .”

“And brings Mom flowers.”

Amy shook her head. “He sounds very sweet.”

“He is sweet,” Hanna felt obligated to add.

“He reminds me of Eddie Haskell,” Sidney grumbled.

Amy put out a lip. “I don’t know who that is.”

Sidney frowned. “Google it.”

“Well, I’ve never met Zack,” Amy said. “But if Hanna loves him, I will support her one hundred percent.” She smiled warmly, but Hanna felt something cold crawl up her spine.

She was marrying Zack no matter what anyone said. But did she love him?

Honestly, in her heart of hearts, the answer was no. But she was twenty-five. She lived in a small town with limited prospects, not to mention the fact that no one else in Snake Gully had ever asked her out. In fact, the men her age barely made eye contact.

Aside from this dismal fact, none of them had ever made her feel. Certainly not the sizzle of arousal, the twist of anticipation, she’d experienced locking eyes with that man in the barnyard.

Why, after all this time, had she found that elusive emotion now?

Now that she was engaged?

And damn it all. She’d held out for a long time, turning Zack down each time he proposed. Each time, he’d smiled and patted her hand and said he’d wait until she was ready.

She’d been convinced she’d never be ready. Not for marriage, and not for marriage to Zack.

But then things had changed. Her entire world had started to crumble and Zack had made her an offer she couldn’t afford to refuse.

And she’d accepted.

She was engaged to him.

She should be thrilled. He was the wealthiest man in town. He was handsome and he treated her like a precious . . . pet.

So what if he didn’t make her heart stutter, or her breath catch? So what if passion didn’t blaze when he kissed her?

She’d kissed a lot of men, even slept with a few in Paris. None of them set her on fire.

Besides, what she really wanted? What she yearned for and fantasized about and secretly craved? She would never ask Zack for that. He was far too proper. He would be horrified.

She’d always thought there would be more. Could be more. When Zack kissed her . . . she felt nothing.

Well, maybe not nothing. Occasionally there was that flare of panic.

But she knew she was doing the right thing. She knew she had to marry him.

Zack, the president of the local bank, had told her—in total confidence, of course—that her father was in deep trouble. He was behind on his mortgage payments and the bank was about to foreclose on the ranch. Zack assured her he could help pay off the staggering loan. But the only way he could do that was if Hanna was his wife.

She shouldn’t have been shocked. She’d seen hints that her once-wealthy father was now pinching pennies. Selling off chunks of the land. Letting some of the ranch hands go. Buying generic brands at the grocery store. The lines on his weathered face had deepened and the silver touch at his temples had spread.

She’d assumed he was struggling to meet the rising costs of her mother’s medications.

Dad never wanted to talk finances with her. He never had. But Hanna had been hit with the realization that, if she didn’t marry Zack, her family could lose their home. With Mom in the condition she was in, that would be devastating.

So she’d agreed to his proposal.

And she tried not to feel as though a sharp-toothed trap was closing around her.

She forced the thought away, forced a smile at her friends. “I am so glad you’re here.”

“Of course we’re here,” Amy said.

“And it will be an awesome weekend,” Sidney insisted.

Porsche nodded. “It will.”

As her friends chatted about their plans for the weekend, and which of the hunks they wanted to bid on at tonight’s auction, Hanna crossed to the window and peered outside. Surely she wasn’t hoping to catch another glimpse of him? The man who had snagged her attention before?

He was a stripper, bussed in for the weekend. For the purpose of entertainment.

Of all the men in the world to finally give her that exhilarating flare she’d been hunting for, why did it have to be him?

She chewed her lip as she watched Zack’s sister flirting with one of the cowpokes in the barnyard. They hooked arms and sauntered toward the house.

Zack hadn’t wanted her to go this weekend, but since Sidney was the maid of honor, it was her obligation and her right to plan the bachelorette party. In the end, Zack had smiled and patted her hand and exhorted her to “have fun . . . but behave.” There was no doubt he’d sent his sister along to keep an eye on her and report back.

Something about that just stuck in her craw.

The trapped feeling grew like a cloud, encompassing her soul. She gasped for breath as something constricted in her chest.

And then, he walked into view, filling her vision, filling her mind. He crossed the now-empty barnyard with a coil of rope over his shoulder, his unbuttoned chambray shirt flapping in the breeze, giving her a tantalizing peek at his hard-muscled abs.

Something tight, deep in her core, snapped, released. The sound of the laughter behind her faded and her world narrowed down to the sight of him. Her heart thrummed like the beat of a ticking clock. Her body softened. Saliva pooled in her mouth.

She wasn’t married yet. She didn’t belong to Zack yet. She hadn’t made any vows.

What if, just for this weekend, for this brief splash of time, she could be the free bird? What if she could take what she wanted?

And why not? Why not play a little now? While she was still footloose?

If she was ever going to explore her deepest fantasies, now would be the time. And who better to approach than a man who’d been around the stripper pole . . . at least once?

“Hanna?” Sidney’s call scattered her thoughts. Shattered that imprudent fantasy.

Desolation sliced through her like a knife.

What on earth was she thinking?

She was not the kind of woman who could waltz up to a man like that and demand that he service her. She wasn’t the kind of woman who could step outside her box. She wasn’t and she never would be.

A heavy cloud lowered onto her soul.

“Are you ready for the hayride with the hotties, Hanna?” Sidney asked with a grin.

Hanna forced a smile and nodded, but only to appease Sidney. Only so her sister would look away, focus on someone else.

She couldn’t bear it if anyone spotted the shimmer of tears in her eyes.