How to Lasso a Cowboy (12 page)

He considered putting his radio face on his answer. Telling her he was just fine with it, that it was all part of the show. Instead, he did what he'd never done before—

And gave Sophie Watson a peek at the truth.

“Yeah,” he said, “it does. People think they know me when really, they only know the person I've painted for them, if that makes sense.”

“It does,” she said softly, and once again, he wondered if there was something she was holding back. She seemed to understand, in a way few people he knew did. “Then why do you keep doing the show?”

“In the beginning, it was fun. I'm not gonna lie to you, darlin', it's mighty nice to get recognized on the street, to have people ask you to dinner, just because you're some kind of celebrity.”

“Or have a certain level of notoriety.”

“I do indeed,” he said, laughing.

“But?” she prompted. “I can hear a but in your sentence.”

“But after a while, I started to wonder…” His voice trailed off. Damn. This sharing thing was hard. No wonder he'd avoided doing it most of his life.

“Go ahead, finish what you were saying.”

He took off his hat and spun it between his fingers. “But after a while, I started to wonder if people liked the Harlan they thought they knew, the radio version, or, well, hell, the real me.”

“The real you isn't so bad,” she said, and a smile curved across her face.

“Why, thank you, ma'am. And neither is the real Sophie.”

Her gaze went to some far off place. “I understand what you mean, though. People see or hear about what happens in public, and that becomes their frame for your picture. They don't bother to dig any deeper.”

The tension had returned to her shoulders, to her jaw. “Sounds like you've had an embarrassing moment you'd like to take back,” he said.

She shrugged. “Maybe.”

He peered around her face and looked at her until she turned her green eyes on his. Whatever had happened, she wasn't betraying a word. “And you don't want to tell me because you're afraid I'll put it on the show.”

“Wouldn't you? You've put everything else I've ever done on your show.”

Ouch. The truth stung, and regret pinged Harlan. If he
could take the words back, he would. Because he hated seeing that disappointed, hurt look on Sophie's face, and he hated even more knowing that he put it there. “I have, but I haven't made you look bad.”

“‘Animal antagonist'?”

“Okay, maybe with that.”

“‘Lunatic neighbor'?”

He cringed. “Yeah, that, too.”

“Shall I go on?”

The ride operator had finished making sure everyone was safe in the cars and was crossing the platform, his steps making their seat bounce a little. In a minute, the ride would start. It would sure be a waste to embark on a fun event like this, with Sophie steaming at him.

“I'm sorry,” Harlan said, and honestly meant the words. “That was wrong of me. Sometimes I need to lasso my mouth before it gets away from my brain.”

He could see her try to hold back a smile at his lame attempt at a joke, but the effort was too much, and she gave up. The smile swung across her face, wide and bright, and it seemed as if the sun had suddenly risen inside the shadows of the cove-shaped ride. He hadn't realized how much he wanted her to forgive him until she did.

“Does that mean you aren't going to say anything mean about me ever again?” she asked.

He made a gesture of crossing his heart. “Nothing mean. I promise.”

She snorted. But the smile stayed. “I'll believe that when I hear it.”

He grinned. “I thought you didn't listen to my show.”

“I don't.”

“Then how will you ever know what I say about you?”

“The ride's starting. We should pay attention.” And she
looked away from him so he couldn't tell what she might have said, if she'd answered his question.

This woman drove him crazy. Half the time he was thinking about kissing her, the other half he thought about getting as far away as possible. Right this second, he wanted nothing more than to see her smile again. And to find out what mysteries she was keeping to herself.

For the first time in a long time, Harlan Jones thought about sharing his own mysteries with another person. Gettin' real, as they called it, and letting Sophie Watson in.

He considered her again. It took him a second to make the connection, to start bringing all the pieces from the last few days together. “Is all this because of what happened during the live radio show earlier? I'm real sorry about that. Things just kind of got out of hand.”

She worried her bottom lip. “It happened. Nothing I can do about it but move forward.”

“Actually,” he said as the ride started, “I think right now we're gonna move in circles.” The car began spinning slowly at first, then picking up speed as the platform spun faster. The world outside went from details—Ernie waiting by the radio station's booth, Tobias sitting on a stool beside him, Mildred and Art walking hand in hand—to a blur of colors. The bright red car began to sway in half circles back and forth, and Sophie gripped the silver bar to keep from sliding. But as it moved faster, centrifugal force spun the car in a full, fast circle, peeling her away from the bar, and into his chest.

She was solid and warm against him, and with each spin he caught the vanilla notes of her perfume. How did that woman manage to smell so…delicious? It was as if she'd taken the sweetest ingredients in those bis-yummy things and applied them to her skin. He wanted to taste her skin,
trail his mouth along her shoulders, her arms, her belly, and see if she tasted as wonderful as she smelled. Desire pulsed in his veins, thundered in his head.

Kiss her, kiss her.

His brain chanted the words, just like the crowd had earlier.
Kiss her, kiss her.
Instead, he raised his arm above her shoulders and she curved into him on the next turn, as if she'd been made for that space.

“Oh, sorry,” she said. She reached for the bar again, and tried to pull herself off him but the ride's movements kept her rooted in place. The wind toyed with her hair, sending the blond strands up and away from her face like a delicate halo.

“You're fine, totally fine,” Harlan said. “This is probably as close as I'll come to rescuing a damsel in distress.”

She laughed, a sweet, hearty sound that was music to Harlan's ears. “It's moving so fast!”

“Yeah, it is,” he said. Faster than he wanted, but he couldn't seem to put on the brakes. They spun in quick, tight circles, Sophie pressed hard against him, and Harlan's mind traveled down paths that went way beyond trailing kisses down her body. He wondered what it would be like to have her in his arms every day. To come home to her smiling face, and even more, to wake up to her curled against him. Every time the car made another loop, he fought the urge to do more than just hold her.

He hadn't felt this much desire for a woman in…well, forever. Harlan Jones was a man who worked hard, who put everything he had into the job he was doing. He wasn't a man who gave in to fancy flights of reason. And everything about being involved with Sophie Watson would be like riding a jet plane away from the reality of his days, his job. What his brother needed from him.

Didn't make him stop wanting her, though.

“Are you having fun?” she asked.

“Yep,” he said, and his words were caught in the vortex inside the car. “Are you?”

She nodded. “Lots.”

“Good,” Harlan murmured against her neck. The word was lost in the golden maze of her hair. And so was he.

Too soon, the ride came to an end. The car began to slow, and Sophie shifted away from him. Disappointment sunk in his gut. He wanted her pressed against him again, wanted to feel her one more time in his arms. Wanted to stay in this tiny pocket comprised of just him and her, for a little longer.

The world started coming back into focus, and as the WFFM booth spun in and out of sight, Harlan got back to the real world. His brother waved at him, and even though the early evening sun was still bright, the day was warm, and Tobias hadn't done much more than sit in the station's booth, Harlan could see exhaustion lining his younger brother's face.

Tobias wasn't recovered enough to run the station on his own. Hell, he might never be. That meant Harlan had to keep his eye on the ball, and not go chasing after something that he couldn't have.

Hadn't he already done that once? And that choice had ultimately cost Tobias, nearly cost him everything. Not again.

The ride operator hopped onto the platform, and pulled back the bar. “All done.”

“Yeah,” Harlan said, following Sophie out of the car, then turning to head toward the station, and his brother. “We are.”

M
ILDRED
was wearing a smile that the Cheshire cat would envy when Sophie entered the ticket booth for her shift. Oh, oh, Sophie thought. That didn't bode well.

Sophie had decided on the walk over here that she would tell Mildred to find someone else for Harlan. That would be best for all involved.

Definitely best.

Before the ride started, they'd had a nice conversation, one that made her look at Harlan in a new light. Over the last week, he'd done that a dozen times. In the way he'd taken care of Grandma, the way he'd talked to her—and listened, really listened. The day he had her on his show and focused entirely on what was important to her.

She'd been thinking how nice all that was. How much she enjoyed being with him. Then the ride had started, and the dynamics shifted. In a big way.

Her skin still tingled where he had touched her. She could still feel the imprint of his hard, strong chest against her back, feel the power in his arm when he wrapped it around her. She'd felt safe and protected and…

Desired.

And that was the whole problem. He wanted her, that was clear in his kiss, in his touch. The problem was wanting him back. Because she did. Too much. She had to end
this before she got in too much deeper and began thinking about a future with Harlan Jones.

Despite everything he'd said about the drawbacks to his job, he was still a man who wouldn't hesitate to use her most embarrassing moments to entertain the audience. If he found out about what happened in the church, she had no doubt he'd turn that into a joke, just like the rest of the media had. In short, he was dangerous, on a hundred different levels, and that meant she should stay away.

“So,” Mildred said. “I see my match is working out.”

“I agree. Lulu and Kevin seem very happy,” Sophie said.

Mildred laughed and waved a hand. “Silly! I meant you and Harlan.”

“Harlan and I? No, no, we're—”

“Happier than two clams in one shell,” Mildred said. “Your grandmother is going to be so pleased when she stops by the carnival later.”

Mildred's corny phrase immediately sent Sophie's mind back to the Tilt-A-Whirl. Spinning into Harlan's chest, feeling the hard strength of him beneath her. For a second back there, she'd wished he would wrap both his arms around her, trail kisses down her neck, maybe slip a hand beneath the cotton of her T-shirt. Touch her. Make her feel everything she had never felt before. Never felt with Jim, or anyone else.

Then when the ride had slowed, and Harlan had jerked away from her as if that moment of contact was the biggest mistake he'd ever made, she'd come to her senses. She might have seen some nice traits in him lately, but that didn't mean he was settling-down material.

Besides that, she had a Love Lottery to run, a grandmother to worry about and a lot of lattes to make. There was no time to work on anything with Harlan Jones.

Good thing, too, because the man had a way of erasing her self-control.

“Mildred, Harlan and I aren't a couple. Well, we are, but it's just for show, for this week. If I wasn't publicity director, I'd back out.” She saw disappointment fill the older woman's features. Sophie's gaze drifted across the park, lingered on the tall man in a cowboy hat leaning against the WFFM booth. He was talking to the other men in the booth, and not looking at her. Thank goodness, because if he did, she wasn't sure she could stick to her resolve. “I know Harlan paid for his match, so why don't you…” She paused, then pushed forward. She had to say it. “Why don't you fix him up with someone else for the rest of the week? That way he gets his money's worth.”

And maybe he'd be happier with someone less…complicated, she told herself. Even though the thought of him with another woman sent a sharp pain through her chest.

“Why?”

Sophie jerked her attention back to Mildred. “Why what?”

“Why aren't you and Harlan going to work out?” Mildred's lips puckered and her eyes narrowed. She leaned in closer to Sophie. “Because I've been making matches ever since I married my Henry, God rest his soul, and not a one of the pairs I've put together has broken up.”

“None of the couples broke up?”

“Well, if they have, no one's said a word to me. As far as I know, all the chickens are happy in the hen house.”

“That's good.”

“Darn tootin',” Mildred said. “Why, I've been to more weddings than a priest. So, if you ask me, you should rethink Harlan Jones.” Mildred stepped out of the ticket booth, and Sophie turned to the little boy beneath the window.

“Can I help you?”

“Ten tickets, please,” he said, and thrust a five-dollar bill at her.

Sophie smiled, and exchanged the money for the tickets. “Have fun!” But her words fell on deaf ears because the boy was already charging across the park, headed for the Ferris wheel.

“I never thought he was right for you, you know,” Mildred said.

Sophie turned around, surprised to find Mildred still standing in the doorway. “Who? Harlan? I was just saying that. That's why I think you should find him someone else.”

Mildred waved off that suggestion. “No, that Jim fellow. He didn't read right for me.”

Mildred had more superstitions than anyone Sophie knew. “Are you doing tarot now, too, Miss Meyers?”

“Goodness, no.” She took a step toward Sophie. The ticket booth door shut behind her, and once again, they were enclosed in the tiny space. “Do you want to know how I match people?” Mildred didn't wait for an answer. “I close my eyes, and I imagine two people together. And in my heart, I know if putting those two together will work or not. Jim was a nice man and all, but when I pictured him with you, it never felt right.”

“Wish you'd told me before the wedding,” Sophie muttered. “Could have saved myself some embarrassment.”

“You weren't in any mood for listening. You have one quality, Sophie Watson, that is both good and bad. You are bull-headed.”

“I am not.” The Smithson family came up to the ticket booth, all three children in tow. The father plunked down a twenty, and Sophie handed him his tickets. The littlest Smithson sent Sophie a little wave before trotting off after
her siblings. Her gaze followed him, then stopped when she saw Harlan Jones seated behind the mike in the radio station's booth.

Broadcasting about their conversation in the Tilt-A-Whirl? She sure hoped not. He'd promised. Would he keep his word? How well did she know him, anyway?

“You are indeed bull-headed,” Mildred said from behind her. “It's why your coffee shop has succeeded in a place where, heck, half the time, it is too darned hot to drink coffee. It's why you were chosen as the head of the Love Lottery and asked to chair the fundraising committee for the community wellness center, because if anyone could make that happen, it would be you.”

Sophie had known Mildred most of her life, and had rarely heard that many compliments in one sitting. Mildred Meyers was a nice, generous and quirky woman, but not one who went throwing about accolades. “Thank you.”

Mildred wagged a finger at her. “I also said it could be a bad trait. You are so bull-headed about Harlan Jones that you can't see the truth.”

“And what truth is that?” Sophie's gaze strayed to Harlan again. He caught her eye, tipped his hat her way, and something hot exploded in her gut.

“That you two are made for each other. There isn't another woman in the world who's as perfect for that man as you are. So I'm sorry, but my match stays.” Mildred gave Sophie a nice, but firm smile. “Just close your eyes, and you'll see what I see. Harlan Jones is the perfect man for you.”

If only she was right, Sophie thought with a sigh, then turned away from Harlan and got busy selling tickets.

 

Night dropped its blanket of blue black light over the Edgerton Shores town park. Families with small children
bought one last elephant ear, tossed one last dart at a balloon, took one last spin on the Ferris wheel, then headed home, with tired, happy kids. WFFM switched to its nightly music show, allowing the remote team to dismantle the temporary location and head home.

Harlan stayed after the other guys left. He should get home to the dogs—they'd probably chewed through his living-room sofa by now—but he lingered, letting the twinkling lights in the trees and the soft music streaming from the speakers wash over him. The carnival's sounds and colors were muted a bit, as if with the coming of night, the event strove for a softer touch.

The last couple months, doing Tobias's job and his own, had been hell on wheels, keeping Harlan so busy most days he barely remembered to eat. Even the time he spent sitting in his chairs at Sophie's café were work hours. He made calls, ran numbers, checked emails. He hadn't had too many moments to just…be.

Hell, he didn't have many of those moments ever. Harlan Jones was a man who knew the value of hard work, and stuck to that, day in and day out. Except for the few hours he wasted in the garage woodshop, he kept his nose to the grindstone. But now, the show was over, the crew gone, and though there was a stack of files sitting in Harlan's truck, he let them sit there while he strolled through the carnival.

Sophie Watson was just leaving the ticket booth. She stepped out of the small white structure and brushed her hair off her face, then let out a long breath, as if she, too, was shedding the weight of the day. Shadows dusted the undersides of her eyes, but to Harlan, she looked as beautiful as always.

“Long day?” he called out to her.

She started at the sound of his voice, then relaxed when
she saw who it was. “Yeah. I've been running here and there all week.” She sighed. “I seem to have a bad case of volunteeritis.”

“Volunteeritis?”

“If someone needs something done, I'm the first to put up my hand.” She shook her head. “I'm either too nice or a glutton for punishment.”

He closed the gap between them in three strides. Part of him wanted to reach out and capture her hands in his, draw her to him, and take care of her for the rest of the night. There was just something about the carnival's nighttime atmosphere that had softened his stance, made him want things he shouldn't have. “I'd go with the too nice option.”

“Thanks.” She let out another breath, then looked around at the carnival. “I should probably start cleaning up.”

“Aren't there other people with volunteeritis who will do that?”

“Yeah, but—”

“Stop right there, darlin'. You look like you haven't eaten all day.” He put out his arm. “Let's get something that'll slap some meat on our bones.”

She laughed. “I shouldn't.”

“You should.” He patted his arm. “Come on. I promise not to bite.”

As soon as he said the words, a mental image of his mouth, trailing down her soft peach skin, nipping here and there, tasting her sweet body, sprang to his mind. He could almost taste her, almost feel her arching beneath him. He wanted her, more than he could remember wanting anyone. The memory of her kiss—that hot, hard kiss—sprang to his mind. And stayed. Damn.

What was he doing? Why did he keep getting so distracted?

She slipped her hand into his arm, and smiled up at him, completely unaware of the decadent thoughts in Harlan's mind. “Do you like elephant ears?”

“As long as they come with a tall iced tea, I do.”

She laughed, and they started walking, navigating around other couples who were playing the games of chance or taking one last spin on a ride. Pop music filled the air, so loud in some places the vibrations from the speakers had the canopies dancing. People cheered when a skinny teenager won a giant dolphin for his girlfriend. She clutched the stuffed animal to her chest and gave her boyfriend a long, barely legal-in-public kiss.

“I love dolphins,” Sophie said. “I think they're my favorite animal.”

“You want me to win you one?”

“Oh, no. I prefer the real ones. Before I opened the coffee shop, I used to go to the beach every morning to see them. When it's cooler and not so crowded, they like to come in close to shore. They're just amazing.” She sighed. “Now I'm so busy in the mornings, I haven't been over to the beach to see them in a while.”

“You should go sometime,” Harlan said.

“I should.” She watched the couple walk away, arm in arm and still kissing. “Sometime.”

“I can't remember the last time I went to one of these,” Harlan said as they strolled between the carnival games. The lights flashed in a multicolored rainbow, dancing on Sophie's features. “Guess I just got too old.”

“You're never too old for a little fun,” Sophie said.

“Yeah,” Harlan said, glancing over at her, and wondering how she managed to find that balance that had so eluded him for so long, “you're right.”

Sophie put a hand on her chest and faked a swoon. “Did I hear you correctly, Mr. Jones? Did you just say I was right?”

He stopped walking, and turned to face her. Her green eyes danced with merriment, and he found a smile curving across his face in answer. He tipped a finger under her chin, his gaze lingering on those full, dark pink lips. “What's it gonna take for you to start calling me by my given name?”

“You want me to call you…” Her lips parted, and a breath whispered out of her,
“Harlan?”

Desire roared through his veins. He'd heard plenty of people say his name before, but none had had that mixture of sweet and sassy. His hand danced against her jaw, their gazes locked, and the urge to kiss her again—and again and again—surged inside him. “Oh, Sophie.”

“Excuse me,” a woman said as she brushed past them.

The interruption jarred Harlan back to reality. Hadn't he decided earlier today not to get any more involved with Sophie? That he should concentrate on WFFM, on helping his brother?