This Kiss (Made In Montana Book 12) (5 page)

“Brian lives in Dallas. I can’t call him this late. But yeah, he knows everybody. I trust he’ll steer me right.”

“You should’ve called him before you jumped bail.”

Ethan sighed. “I didn’t realize I’d jumped bail,” he said with forced patience. “The charges were supposed to have been dropped.”

“What about your parents? I would think they either have someone they use or know of someone.”

“It’s clear you’re not a rodeo fan, yet you know who they are?”

She shrugged. “I think everyone in Beatrice County knows the name Styles. They own that big ranch and rodeo camp near Otter Lake. And didn’t your dad win something like five championship titles for calf roping, and a few more for something else?”

Ethan nodded. “All-around cowboy three years in a row.”

“Even your mom has four gold buckles for barrel racing, right?”

“You get all that from doing homework on me? Or did you already know this stuff?”

“Half and half.”

“So you probably read about my kid sister.” His tone stayed noncommittal and his expression blank.

Nevertheless, she’d bet there were a lot of emotions bubbling under the surface. She’d definitely seen pride in his eyes, but she wondered if there might be some jealousy in the mix.

“Last December Cara won her first championship title on her twenty-first birthday,” he said. “She’ll be competing for her second title next week. She’ll be headed to Vegas with me. Assuming I get to go.” He jerked on the cuffs so hard the post shook.

“Ah.” Sophie nodded.

“Ah?”

“Sibling rivalry. I get it.” She didn’t have any siblings, but she could imagine the pressure Ethan was feeling. And a kid sister besting him? Ouch. “Well, I know barrel racing is a woman’s event, so I’m guessing that’s what she won?”

He nodded.

“Your dad won first place for tying up poor little calves—”

Ethan stared as though she’d just grown fangs.

“And your mom and sister got prizes for riding a horse around a few barrels without knocking them over.”

Ethan started laughing.

“I’m not finished,” she said. “And you’re a bull rider. Correct me if I’m wrong, but don’t you compete in the hardest, most dangerous event in rodeo?”

“Look,” he said, his laughter ending with a sigh, “I don’t know what your point is. I just need to make it to the finals.” His mood had soured again. “So, what’s it gonna take, Sophie? Tell me.”

“You have to return to Wyoming and face the judge.”

“I can’t ride the next two days here, then go back to Wyoming and the unknown, and trust that I can still make it to Vegas for the finals.”

She sucked in a deep breath. He wasn’t thinking it through. “It’s not as if you have a low profile,” she reminded him. “If you fail to appear in court on Monday, the judge will issue a warrant and someone will be waiting in Vegas to arrest you.”

“No. No, that can’t happen. How can they come after me? I didn’t do it. Dammit.”

She bit down to keep from stating the obvious. Besides, Ethan had to know the legal system was far from perfect. Or maybe his charmed existence had spared him life’s injustices. “Look, I know you don’t want the publicity, but your folks live in the next county, along with lots of rodeo fans who adore them. You’re probably the most popular bull rider in the country. Who do you think people are going to believe? You or what’s her name?”

“Wendy.” Ethan’s mouth curved in a derisive smile. “Wendy Fullerton.”

Fullerton?
“Any relation to Broderick Fullerton?”

“His wife.”

“Oh, shit.”

“Exactly what I said.” Ethan’s sigh sounded a lot like defeat.

“How could you not know who she was?” Fullerton owned half the county. People generally feared him more than they liked him. But the fact remained, he provided over 60 percent of the jobs and his bank owned a ton of mortgages and notes. Including Sophie and Lola’s business loan.

“Wendy is wife number four. They’ve been married for eight months.” He shrugged. “How the hell would I know, anyway? I don’t read the society pages and I’m rarely home. Jesus. Here I’ve been keeping my head down. Staying healthy. Staying out of trouble...”

“You picked up a strange woman in a bar,” she muttered, really hating this whole mess. No room for sympathy now. Everything had to go by the book. “And instead of learning your lesson you came here and did it again.”

“When?”

Sophie got to her feet so she could pace, hoping to loosen up. Maybe she should be more concerned with toughening up. She’d started to soften toward Ethan, wondering how she could help him out. But anything she did would reflect on Lola, too. Their business loan wasn’t in jeopardy. They’d been late with their payment only once in four years. It was silly to worry.

Ethan’s response from a moment ago finally sank in and she faced him. “
When?
Is that a joke?”

“Do you see me laughing?” he said, his stare unflinching.

“Did you forget how I ended up here with you?”

“Nope. But you obviously did.”

She pushed her fingers through her tangled hair. This was good, him being an ass. Made it easier to shove sympathy aside, be more objective. “Okay, I’ll bite. Go ahead.”

“Nothing. It’s just that you hit on me.”

She gaped at him. “Are you nuts?” It took a few more seconds to find her voice again. “You’re crazy, you know that. You brought me to your room.”

“Actually I was going to give it to you.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“My friend Matt invited me to stay at his ranch. So when I heard you needed a room, I’d decided to give you this one and I would move over to the Lone Wolf,” he said slowly, and with exaggerated patience. “Then you hit on me, and I...I went with the flow.” He smiled. “I was only trying to be a gentleman.”

“Oh, that’s right. I forgot. You like to play hero and then move on.” She held her breath. She couldn’t believe she’d actually said
play hero
.

With a single lifted eyebrow, he held her gaze until she turned away. He didn’t seem surprised or curious about what she’d meant, just faintly amused. So he’d probably remembered...

Swallowing, she stalked to the window, shoved the drapes aside and stared at nothing.

The stupid bastard had recognized her from school and hadn’t said a word.

5

F
INE
. S
O
WHAT
if he remembered? It didn’t really matter. Sophie stayed at the window, though nothing happening outside was of particular interest. She simply knew better than to look at Ethan while she planned her next move. The inn sat directly on Main Street. And Blackfoot Falls was crawling with out-of-town fans. The only chance for an uneventful exit would be if they left in the middle of the night. Not her first choice, but...

The more she thought about it, the more she liked the idea. Once the Watering Hole closed, there wouldn’t be anything for these people to do. They’d return to the trailer parks and dude ranches, or wherever they were staying. She could pull her Jeep up close to the porch and stuff him into the backseat. She’d gag him if she had to. But she doubted that would be necessary. He wouldn’t want to call attention to himself.

Later, once they were on the open road, he’d try to make a move. Plenty of lonely stretches of highway between here and Wyoming for him to give it his all. But that was okay because she’d be ready for him. Sure, he could easily overpower her if he somehow broke free of his restraints. That was why she’d brought pepper spray.

Despite wanting to smack him, she hoped he was considering what she’d said about finding an attorney. With his high profile he’d be arrested sooner rather than later, and she really didn’t want that to happen.

“I have a question,” Ethan said.

Good for him. She had a million. Like whether he’d honestly intended to give her the room. And when exactly had he recognized her. He might’ve thought she seemed familiar and figured he’d met her in another bar, another town. Until she’d made the
hero
crack.

None of those things mattered, really. Her job was to take him back to Wyoming. And that was exactly what she was going to do. As long as she stayed focused, avoided looking at him whenever possible. Because she had enough wits about her to know he was dangerous to her self-control, to her ability to reason. If she wasn’t careful, she’d revert to that same smitten fifteen-year-old girl who’d finished her freshman year with a bunch of newly awakened hormones and a broken heart.

Even now, ten feet away, she swore she could smell him. His rugged masculine scent drifted over to her, distracting her. Tempting her to forget she had a job to do.

“Why the blond wig?” he asked after she’d refused to so much as glance at him. “You’re much prettier with dark hair.”

“Oh, please.” Sophie rubbed her eyes. This sucked. She was too tired to drive tonight. And she had to get him back as quickly as possible. For her own peace of mind, if nothing else.

“I’m not trying to butter you up. It’s the truth. Were you worried I’d recognize you?”

She knew he was playing her. Or maybe he was still fuzzy about her identity and was looking for confirmation. She wasn’t about to fill in the blanks for him. “You like blondes, that’s why.”

“Who told you that?”

“Every one of your girlfriends has been blonde. Think that might’ve given me a hint?”

“It’s been three years since I’ve had a steady girlfriend. And she was a brunette...who happened to dye her hair blond.”

Sophie snorted a laugh. “Do you ever hear yourself?” Without thinking, she spun around...and let out a squeal. “What are you doing?”

The bastard was using something to pick the lock.

“No. Oh no, you don’t.”

She dove onto the mattress and crawled over to him. She leaned across his chest, trying to pry his free hand away from the handcuffs. Her right breast smooshed his face, startling him. Her, too. But it was probably the only thing that saved her, since she had barely reached his hand in time.

Unable to get a good grip of his wrist, she threw a leg over him. Straddling him hadn’t been the objective, but there she was. She didn’t know which was worse, sitting on his junk and squeezing his hips with her thighs or having her boob in his face. But she couldn’t back down now.

Pulling on his arm was like trying to move a boulder. “Damn you, Styles. Don’t you get it? You’re going back to Wyoming one way or another. Why are you making this so hard?”

He grinned.

Okay, unfortunate word choice. He didn’t have to be a child about it. She ignored him, other than to use all her might to pull his hand away...

He went completely still. Relaxed his arm. Dropped the small pocketknife.

“Would you stop that?” he growled. “I know you’re a lunatic, but my dick doesn’t, okay? So ease up. Damn.”

“What did you say?”

“Stop wiggling.”

“Oh.” She stayed right where she was but tried not to move.
Holy shit.
There was a bulge under her left butt cheek. “Then stop trying to pick the lock.”

“And how am I supposed to go to the bathroom, huh? Answer me that.”

“Is that what this is about? You could’ve said—”

“No. I don’t need to go now. But the point is, you can’t keep me prisoner like this. You know damn well it isn’t practical...” He trailed off and quietly exhaled, his eyes, wary and watchful, meeting hers dead-on.

Sophie couldn’t tell if she was breathing or not. Heat coursed slowly through her body as she fought the urge to touch his muscled shoulders and chest.

They just stared at each other. His pupils were so big and dark she hardly saw any blue. She hated to think what she looked like with her wild tangled hair. Though the bulge under her fanny hadn’t subsided, so she couldn’t be the utter mess she imagined.

She finally shifted her gaze to his hand, still secured to the bedpost, and she picked up the pocketknife. She had no reason to be sitting on him. Or staring at his bare chest.

She gave the cuffs a reassuring tug, mostly for show, then lifted herself off him. Very carefully. No peeking, no unnecessary touching.

One thing was for certain. She didn’t want to be tempted by his bare chest all night, so she’d have to figure a way for him to put his shirt on. As for his lower half, the sheet draped over his lap would have to do for now. It sure wasn’t lying flat, though.

“So, how do you plan to deal with bathroom trips? Are you going in with me to be my...handler, so to speak?”

Luckily it took very little for him to annoy the hell out of her. “You’re despicable.”

Ethan laughed. “I’ll make a deal with you.”

Sophie rolled to the side of the bed and jumped off. “You have nothing I want.”

“You sure about that?”

She glanced back at him. “When you get thrown off a bull, you must land on your head a lot.”

“Ah, rodeo humor. Not very good, though. Hey, don’t lose my pocketknife.”

She shoved it deep into her jeans pocket. “Oh, so now I have everything you want, and you have nothing of interest to me.” She swept a pointed gaze over his body. “So, as for making a deal...” She shrugged. “Too bad.”

“I’m being serious.”

“You should be. You’re in a lot of trouble, Ethan.” If he made her regret this, she’d save the court time and money and just shoot him. “What is it you want?”

He started to smirk, then gave up the smug act. “Let me ride for Safe Haven,” he said, steadily meeting her eyes. “And you have my word I won’t run.”

“What about the finals?”

“I’ll make it to Vegas.”

Sophie was on the verge of a colossal headache. He hadn’t been a stupid boy in school, and she assumed he hadn’t lost any IQ points since then. “I doubt you can do both and still meet your legal obligation.”

“Watch me.”

“How am I supposed to believe you won’t take off on me?”

“Because I gave you my word.”

“Right.” She rubbed her left temple.

“Just like I gave Matt Gunderson my word I’d ride for Safe Haven.” He sure seemed intent on making a mess of his career. His life. “They haven’t done one of these benefits before. If it goes well, it’ll become an annual event. What do you think will happen if their headliner scratches at the last minute?”

She sighed. Her job would be a lot easier if he was only pretending to be noble. But this wasn’t an act. Even back in high school Ethan had had a reputation for stepping in for the underdog, and not just her.

With a small shake of her head, she reached into her pocket for the key. “What time do you ride?”

“I think I’m last.”

“Of course you are,” she muttered. “So, after that we leave, right?”

“I’m on the lineup for Sunday, too.”

“What if you get thrown on your ass before the eight seconds tomorrow?”

With a deadpan expression, he said, “This isn’t about qualifying, so it doesn’t matter.”

Boy, did she hope she’d packed aspirin. “We’ll split the difference. You ride tomorrow and then Sunday we drive straight to Wyoming. That way you can—”

He was already shaking his head. “People paid a lot of money for tickets.”

“I bet they pay even more for the finals.”

“Let me worry about that.”

“Oh yeah? Hmm.” She frowned at the key, and then at the lock. Anything to avoid those hypnotic eyes. “That should take care of everything.”

“Sarcasm? Sure, that helps.”

She glared at him then. “Your main problem is that you’re not concerned enough.”

He had the most annoying habit of looking like the boy next door one minute, and sex wearing a Stetson the next. It had to stop. Being in the same room with him was nerve-racking enough. But this close?

Just as she was about to free him, someone knocked on the door.

“Oh, Ethan... Ethan Styles?” It was a woman’s singsong voice. “Are you in there, sugar?”

Sophie stepped back. “You expecting company?”

He shook his head, staring mutely at her.

“Obviously you gave out your room number.”

“Nope,” he said, keeping his voice low.

Was she being a total idiot? Once Sophie released him, that was it. She could barely stand this close to him without her skin feeling flushed.

There was another knock. At someone else’s door.

Sophie strained to hear.

“Oh, Ethan...” Same woman, same question. Trying every door? That was sick.

Kind of like her back in school. Sophie cringed at the memory of hiding under the bleachers to watch him run track. Begging for a transfer to auto shop, of all the dumb things, just so she could be in the same class as Ethan.

Teenagers did lots of crazy stuff. She couldn’t let it get to her. And anyway, she’d bet the woman in the hall was a lot older than fifteen.

She held the key poised at the lock. “Wait,” she said, and started when he put a shushing finger to her lips.

It was unnecessary. No one in the hall could’ve heard her low pitch. And she’d bet he knew that. Yet she simply stood there, staring into the vivid blue of his eyes, while he lightly skimmed the pad of his thumb across her bottom lip before lowering his hand. The move was so subtle, she’d be a fool to make anything of it.

Her cousin was right. Lola had worried Sophie would have trouble dealing with Ethan. But she’d honestly thought he no longer had any effect on her. She was wrong. She would just be more cautious, that was all. Ultimately she trusted he’d keep his word.

“We haven’t come to terms on Sunday yet,” she said, voice low and firm.

Their eyes dueled a moment.

“We’ll renegotiate tomorrow,” he said with a sexy smile that could get a ninety-year-old woman in trouble. “After the rodeo.”

She laughed. “Oh, hell no.” Sophie jabbed a finger at him. “You will stick to me like glue until I tell you otherwise. I want your word on
that
.”

He grinned as if he was enjoying this. “You’ve got it.”

“And shut up when I tell you to shut up.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Without the smirk,” she murmured as she inserted the small key, narrowing her attention to the task as she gathered her courage. “You think you know me. From where?”

“Wattsville High.”

Her heartbeat went bonkers, and heat flooded her face, but she refused to look at him. “Because I used my real name?”

“No. I didn’t remember that.”

Okay, at least that was settled. The second the lock sprang, she thought of something else. “Dammit.”

“What?” He was quick to pull his wrist free.

It was too late but she should’ve considered leaving him cuffed until she brought the Jeep closer and got her bag. She glanced at the cuffs still clamped to the bedpost. Maybe she’d leave it there for now.

“Don’t worry. I’m staying right here,” Ethan said. “I’m not even going for that beer I’d wanted at the Watering Hole.”

“You’re right about that.”

He put a hand on her hip, and a soft gasp slipped past her lips.

“Hands off,” she warned, as much with a glare as with words.

“Mind moving so I can get up?”

She ignored the subtle undertone of amusement in his voice and headed back to the window. After she saw him grab his jeans, she looked out through the parted drapes, aware of him moving behind her. The bathroom door closed and she sighed with relief.

Her swirling thoughts would drive her insane if she didn’t get a handle on what to tell Lola. Sophie had had no business making any kind of deal with him. Would Mandy ever negotiate with a bail jumper? Not in a million years.

The minute the rodeo started tomorrow, anyone who cared would know exactly where Ethan Styles was, so she had to tell Lola something.

The smartest story to tell was mostly true. Ethan had unknowingly violated the terms of his bail and he was willing to cooperate. Which saved Sophie from having to fight off hordes of fans. Yes, some gray area existed, since she had Ethan in her clutches at this very moment, but no one had to know...

It didn’t feel good lying to Lola like that. In fact, Sophie couldn’t recall having ever lied to her cousin, not about anything important, anyway. And here she was doing it now because of Ethan?

God, he was like a drug. And she felt like a junkie. A cocky junkie telling herself she’d clocked in enough sobriety. She could resist him. Easy. Might as well have had
denial
tattooed across her forehead. She’d tempted fate, and fate had kicked her right in the butt.

Her phone buzzed. It was Lola’s ringtone. Sophie hesitated, briefly before deciding it was better to talk now, while she had privacy.