Cowboys Like Us

He promised himself that once the rush subsided, he’d retreat to the other side of the bar. Somehow, the rush never let up. Part of that could be his fault, because he hadn’t been able to resist showing off a little. Besides juggling the martini shaker, he’d built a few flaming drinks, which caused folks to order more so they could watch the process.

And damn, he was having a good time. He was also impressing the girl. He’d caught her staring a few times, although she didn’t allow herself to be distracted from her work. For two people who’d never bartended together before, they managed with a minimum of bumping into each other.

That was a good thing, because whenever he accidentally brushed up against her, he registered exactly how soft and curvy she was. That message went straight to his groin.

She also smelled of lemons, which might be her perfume or might be the lemons she’d been cutting before he took over the cocktail part of the bar duties. Whatever the reason, the scent fit her personality, which was fresh, bright, and sexy as hell.

Once in a while his knee gave him a twinge, but then he’d take his weight off his right leg and be okay again. He was grateful for that, because the party showed no signs of letting up, even after Alex and Tyler left in a shower of birdseed. One o’clock came and went. Most bars closed then, but this one was owned by the sister of the groom, and she didn’t seem ready to kick people out.

Caro slipped past him holding two brimming mugs of beer. “I’m worried about your knee,” she said.

“Don’t be.” He garnished a cosmo. “I’m fine.”

“I’m not sure I believe you.”

“Working back here is a hell of a lot easier than dancing.” He delivered the cosmo and came back with a couple dirty glasses. “Besides, I’m enjoying the company.” He probably shouldn’t have said that, but it wasn’t as if he planned to ask her out.

“Me, too.” She sent him a dazzling smile.

That made him feel good, probably too good. He wondered what she had going on in her life that kept her from dating. She seemed like someone who was worth getting to know, on many levels, but they were too busy for him to ask any questions.

Around two, the crowd finally began to thin, and Josie came to sit at the bar.

“Can I get you something?” Logan asked.

“No, thanks, but I owe you a huge debt for filling in tonight. I hope you haven’t stressed your knee.”

“I’m fine.”

“I’d forgotten you used to tend bar, but Alex reminded me after he saw you back here flipping martini shakers around.”

“I had fun.” Working in close proximity with Caro had been ninety percent of that fun, but he’d keep that fact to himself.

“I could tell. Anyway, we’re all about to head back to the ranch, and most everyone else is ready to call it a night, too. Or technically, I guess we have to call it a morning.”

Logan took stock of the remaining dirty glasses, popcorn baskets and crumpled napkins lining the bar and grouped on the tables. “It was some party, Josie.”

“It was. Alex and Tyler deserved a blowout, so I’m glad we did it up right. When you’re ready, I’ll give you a ride back, along with my slightly toasted husband.”

Logan gestured around the room. “Do we need to take care of the final cleanup?”

“We probably should, at that.” Josie straightened her shoulders. “You’re right. I don’t want to leave this for the morning crew.”

“Or you can let Caro and me handle it.” He made the suggestion casually, but there was nothing casual about his intentions. He wanted to be alone with the lovely Caro Davis.

“I can do it, Logan,” Caro said immediately. “No worries. Go home and rest your knee.”

“My knee’s fine.” Logan started gathering glasses. “I want to stay and help get this cleaned up. It won’t take long.”

Jack Chance wandered over and hooked an arm around Josie. “Ready to take off?”

“Not quite,” Josie said. “I really need to—”

“No, you don’t,” Caro said. “Go home, Josie.”

“I hate to leave you with this.” She surveyed the room. “It’s too bad that Steve—”

“Well, he isn’t here,” Logan said, “and I’d really like to help out. Besides, maybe one of the fabled ghosts will show up.”

“It could happen.” Josie looked perfectly serious. “I’ve often seen them after a bash like this.”

“Ghosts or no ghosts,” Jack said, “I need to get my pregnant wife home. I have a suggestion. Let Logan stay and help, and then he can crash at Grandma Judy’s.”

Josie turned to him. “I’m not sure about that, Jack. Do you think your grandmother will—”

“She’ll love the idea. She’s always complaining that nobody uses her guest room. Let me borrow your pen, Caro.” He picked up a napkin from a stack on the bar and sketched a quick map for Logan. “Here’s where she lives. When we drop her off we’ll make sure she leaves a key under the mat. The guest room is down the hall to your right.”

Josie took one last look at the debris left by the wedding guests and sighed. “Okay. There’s probably some fatal flaw in that plan, but I’m too tired to think of anything better, and I do hate to leave Caro alone with this huge mess.”

“And the ghosts.” Logan tucked the napkin with the map into his pocket, and did his best to sound nonchalant when he felt anything but. He wondered if Caro was anticipating some alone time as much as he was.

“And the ghosts,” Josie said with a smile.

“Thanks, Logan.” Jack stuck out his hand and the two men shook. “I’ll drive in tomorrow morning and pick you up.”

“Sounds good.”

“Josie said you’d like to stay on for a few more days and do some riding.”

“I’d like that, but I’m a little rusty.”

“Anybody with your athletic ability shouldn’t have any trouble.” Jack touched the brim of his hat with two fingers. “See you tomorrow.”

“That was very gallant of you,” Caro said as the last of the wedding guests disappeared out the front door. “You must be exhausted.”

He turned to her. “No more so than you, I’ll bet.” He took note of the wisps of hair that had escaped her ponytail and now curled around the nape of her neck. Any lipstick she might have applied earlier in the evening was gone. She looked infinitely kissable.

Her hazel eyes were bright, as if she might be feeling some of the same excitement he was. “Yes, but I’m paid to do this. You’re not.”

“You want to know something really sad? Getting paid isn’t an issue for me anymore. I’ve invested a good chunk of the money I earned while playing with the Cubs, and unless I start buying yachts and staying in hotels that charge several grand a night, I won’t ever have to work again.” That was all true, but he might have said it to impress her. Hell, sure he had.

It obviously did, because her eyes widened. “But that’s not sad, that’s wonderful.”

Her honest reaction demanded honesty in return. “You would think so, wouldn’t you? But in reality, it’s kind of depressing. I have no reason to go out and hustle anymore.”

“You could do all sorts of volunteer things, take charge of some cause or other, travel—”

“I could, and I probably will look into a charitable cause, but I’m not much of an administrator. That doesn’t get me excited. Helping people, yeah, I’d like that. But the thought of being the one in charge gives me hives.” He hadn’t meant to discuss this, but talking to someone who had no vested interest in his future seemed to loosen his tongue.

“What a fascinating problem to have, deciding what to do with money and free time.” She walked over to the wall and put her hand on a bank of switches.

“I suppose it sounds lame to call that a problem.”

“Not if you’re used to being busy. Get ready. Bright lights.”

He blinked. In the glare from the overhead lights the mess looked even worse. “This would be more fun with the lights off.”

She glanced over her shoulder, a definite invitation in her eyes. “That’s true of a lot of things.”

He met her gaze. He knew that look, and instantly his cock responded. Okay then. “Oh, I don’t know. Sometimes I like to see what I’m doing.”

She turned back to him with a seductive smile. “Is that when you’re not very sure of yourself?”

“On the contrary.” Lust was quickly obliterating the memory of any warnings Josie had given him. “The more confident I am, the more light I want on the subject.” He paused. “How about you?”

She swallowed, and her cheeks grew pink. “Personally, I like to retain a little mystery.”

“That can be exciting, too.” He’d instinctively drifted closer. If he kissed her now, they wouldn’t get any cleaning done.

As if realizing the same thing, Caro cleared her throat and glanced away. “It’s getting late.” Pulling a plastic bin from under the counter, she lifted the hinged lid of the bar. “I’ll clear if you’ll wipe up after me.”

He followed her out through the opening and got a grip on the bin. “I’ll clear and you wipe up. You’re the brains of this operation. I’m just the muscle.”

Her laugh had a breathless quality that told him she was very aware of the sparks flying between them. She let him have the bin. “If that makes you happy, knock yourself out. I’ll get a damp towel. Just know that I can balance a full tray of drinks on one hand, so I’m no wimpy girl.”

“So you’re the brains and the muscle.” He loaded glasses, popcorn baskets and used napkins into the bin while she followed behind and wiped off the tables. “How am I supposed to impress a girl who has everything?”

“Those flaming drinks were pretty darned impressive. I know you don’t need a job, but I’ll bet Josie would love to hire you. Oh, wait. You might take my job, and unlike you, I need the money, so forget that idea.”

She’d just handed him a golden opportunity to ask why Josie had said she was off-limits. He cleared the last table and headed back toward the bar. “So how come you don’t have time to go riding these days?”

“My grandmother’s in assisted living, and whenever I’m not working, I visit her.”

“You mean, every day?” Logan thought of his two grandmothers, plus two grandfathers, all living back in Chicago. His folks and his younger brother, Jeff, lived there, too. He saw his grandparents maybe six or seven times a year. He didn’t see any of his relatives daily.

“Yes, I go every day. But I’m sure you don’t want to hear about this.”

“Yes, I do. Come back into the kitchen while I stack the dishwasher, and tell me about it.”

“It’s not all that interesting. You go on. I’ll start putting up the chairs.”

He rested the bin against the counter. “Why don’t you want to tell me?”

“Because it’s boring.” She picked up a chair and turned it upside down on a table, and followed that with another chair, and another.

“I don’t think so.”

“I do.” She stacked chairs in rapid succession. “I love my grandmother more than anyone in the world, but there are times when worrying about her is a real buzzkill.” She paused, her hand on the back of a chair. Then she turned to him with a stricken expression. “Did I just say that? I must be a horrible person to say something like that.”

He smiled gently. “Not a horrible person. Just a person who needs to get out more. And I don’t mean to the assisted living facility.”

She shook her head. “I can’t. She knows my schedule, and she expects me to come whenever I’m not working. I need to be there for her. I want to be there for her.”

“That’s pretty intense. Can’t you back off from that a little bit?”

“Eventually I hope to, once she’s back to her usual sunny self. These first few months have been rough on her. I had to move her out of her house and sell it to pay for this place, because she needs constant medical supervision. It was the only answer.”

Josie might be annoyed, but Logan thought of his next move as a good deed. “Didn’t Steve say he’d take your next shift?”

“He did, but he might not feel up to it.”

“Then again, he might. When is it?”

“Three to eleven, but he looked pretty sick to me.”

“If it’s food poisoning, he could be over it by tomorrow. And if he can take your shift, then you could go riding with me at the Last Chance. Your grandmother would never know.” He would explain to Josie that her best employee was about to blow a gasket if she didn’t get some recreation into her routine. Surely Josie would understand.

Caro hesitated. “I have to admit that sounds nice.”

“Of course it does. Taking a trail ride was your suggestion in the first place.”

“Josie and Jack have told me anytime I want to come out and ride, I’m more than welcome.”

“There you go.” His excitement grew as he imagined spending hours with her out on the trail. No doubt he’d end up saddle sore, but it would be worth it to watch her soaking up the sunshine and fresh air. And maybe a long trail ride could turn into a private little … But he didn’t want to get ahead of himself.

“Now I’m really hoping Steve recovers.”

“Me, too.” Logan was prepared to find another replacement if Steve was still on the disabled list. He’d plead Caro’s case to Josie and see what could be done. “Now let’s finish cleaning so you can go home and get some sleep.” He tossed that last part out on purpose, to see if she had any plan to linger around … with him.

“Okay.” She started stacking chairs on tables again. “Fortunately, I don’t have to go far. Josie’s renting me her old apartment upstairs.”

That info flashed in neon lights in his hormone-soaked brain. So her bedroom was right over their heads. “That’s convenient.” He picked up the bin full of glasses and headed into the kitchen.

As he loaded the commercial dishwasher, he fought with his conscience. He’d pictured some time alone, maybe a few kisses, some fondling. But her bedroom was right upstairs.

He probably shouldn’t go there, even if he could work it so nobody ever had to know but the two of them. Then again, she might have mentioned it on purpose, hoping he’d take the hint. She might not have time for a relationship, but was there anything wrong with some good old-fashioned sex?

He sighed. Josie had specifically requested that he put on the brakes, and he was considering flooring it. She was obviously protective of Caro, and Logan admired that. But should Josie be the one to decide what happened between Caro and him? Or should she be allowed to choose for herself?

So much hinged on Caro’s attitude. After spending several hours working with her, he saw her as upbeat and levelheaded, not the sort of woman who would expect one fun night together meant wedding bells.

He started the dishwasher and walked back out into the bar, where Caro wielded a push broom with gusto. The rapid motion made her breasts quiver under her red checked Western shirt. From her complete concentration, someone might conclude that the fate of the world rested on getting every last bit of debris off the floor.

Logan had always admired hustle, but he knew she must be tired. “I’d be glad to finish that up if there’s something else you need to do to close the place down.”

“Not really.” She kept sweeping, her gaze focused intently on the job, her fingers clenched around the broom handle. “As you noticed, it was an open bar tonight, which was Josie and Jack’s gift to the happy couple, so I don’t have to tally any receipts.”

“Want me to take out the trash?”

She shook her head and kept working. “It’s better to put it out in the morning. Once in a while we have bears come through at night.” She looked up. “We’re basically done, Logan. Thanks so much. You can head on over to Judy’s place if you want.” She put her head down and continued to sweep as if her life depended on it.

“Trying to get rid of me?”

She stopped in midsweep and gazed at him. “No, but I’ll bet you’re exhausted.”

“Funniest thing, but I’m not particularly sleepy.”

“Oh.” She started sweeping again, but her motions were slower. “Then if you don’t mind getting the small broom and that long-handled dustpan, I’d appreciate it.”

“I can do that.” He found them over in a corner and began gathering up the piles she’d made and dumping everything into a plastic-lined trash can.

“Logan, do you have a girlfriend?”

He almost choked on his answer. “No.” He could think of only one reason for that question. He cleared his throat so he could elaborate as he continued to scoop up trash. “I was dating someone, but it turned out she wasn’t crazy about going out with an ex-baseball player.”

“Ouch.”

He glanced over at Caro. “Actually, it was one of the good things about leaving the game. She had a chance to show her true colors.” He paused. “Do you have a boyfriend?” From Josie’s comments, he was fairly sure she didn’t, but he might as well make certain.

She leaned on the broom. “I used to. Curtis got tired of me not being available because of my grandma. We broke up about six months ago.” She took a deep breath. “Quite obviously, I’m not girlfriend material at the moment. There’s no room in my life for a man.”

Logan nodded, as if they were discussing the weather. “I understand completely.”

“But …”

“Yes?” Dear God, he hoped this conversation was leading where he thought it was.

She opened her mouth, and then closed it again. When she finally spoke, the words came out in a rush. “Would you be interested in coming up for a nightcap?” Her cheeks were pink but her gaze was steady.

His heart thudded in anticipation, but he wanted to be sure this was what she really wanted. “You must be tired.”

Her hazel eyes grew dark and her breathing quickened. “Not that tired.”

Dear God, she wanted him in her bed. Only a fool would pass up a chance like this, and Logan was no fool. “Then yes. Yes, I would love a nightcap.”

3

CARO COULDN’T QUITE believe she’d just invited Logan Carswell, big league baseball star, up to her apartment. Even more unbelievable, he’d accepted. Eagerly. She’d acted on pure instinct, and apparently her instincts were on target. They wanted each other.

The old nightcap routine was as transparent as ever. He had to know as well as she did why they were going up there. And unless Logan walked around with condoms in his wallet, he needed to make a trip into the Spirits and Spurs men’s room. After Curtis had dumped her, she’d taken the remaining condoms out of the medicine cabinet and cut them up with a pair of scissors as part of some silly ritual to proclaim her new celibacy.

Once Logan left town, whenever that turned out to be, she’d be celibate again, at least until her grandmother regained her former spirit. But opportunity had pounded on the door in the person of Logan Carswell, wounded athlete. Caro was more than ready to give up her mental chastity belt and embrace that opportunity to have a little fun.

Logan dumped one final dustpan’s worth in the trash. “Is that it?”

“Yes.” Her heart raced. “I’ll put the brooms away in the kitchen if you’ll …” She found herself unable to finish the sentence. Inviting him up to her place on the flimsy pretext of a nightcap was one thing. Telling him to patronize the vending machine in the men’s room was a whole new level of chutzpah.

“If I’ll what?” He met her gaze. “Oh.” Understanding registered in his brown eyes. “Guess I’ll just duck into the bathroom for a minute.”

“Okay.” Her cheeks felt warm with embarrassment as she grabbed both brooms and the long-handled dustpan. She fumbled and dropped the push broom. The handle banged against the floor.

Before she could retrieve it, Logan reached for it in one fluid motion and held it toward her. “Here you go.”

“Thanks. I’ll be right back.” What a doofus she must seem to a guy with his sophistication. Here she was, dropping brooms and sending him after condoms. She wondered if the women in Chicago always had supplies on hand before they impulsively asked someone up for a nightcap. Probably.

Well, she was a small-town girl from Shoshone. Besides, she’d been pissed at Curtis, and cutting up the condoms had seemed justified at the time. She’d wanted to destroy something, and that had been the best target for her anger.

Logan hadn’t returned by the time she walked back into the bar. Her hands trembled slightly as she pulled her keys out of her pocket and locked the back door. Then she doused all the lights except for the soft ones that Josie left on for security purposes, although crime was unlikely in Shoshone.

The dim light helped calm her a little, but if Logan didn’t come out soon, she was seriously going to lose her nerve. She’d almost made up her mind to cancel the plan when she heard the door to the men’s room open. Then she heard it swing shut again.

She gulped. It was put up or shut up time.

He walked toward her. “Seen any ghosts yet?”

“Nope.” She wondered how many condoms he’d bought and if that was what had taken him so long, but she wasn’t about to ask.

“What kind of ghosts are they supposed to be?”

“Cowboy ghosts, of course.” She could barely hear herself speak over the thundering of her heart in her ears. “Have you heard of the old song ‘Ghost Riders in the Sky’?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“They call these guys ‘ghost drinkers in the bar.’”

He laughed. “I like that. I almost wish one would show up, but not enough to hang around waiting.”

So he wanted to get on with it. Gulp. “Like I said, I’ve never seen one myself.” Her chest felt as if somebody had tightened a cinch around it. She’d never done anything like this before. Usually she got to know someone over a period of weeks or months before she progressed to this step.

But if she wanted Logan, and she did, then she had to woman up and direct him to her apartment. “We’ll have to g-go outside,” she said. “The s-stairs to my apartment are on the outside of the building.” Damn. She never stuttered.

“Caro.” He laid a gentle hand on her arm.

“What?” She whirled to face him, nearly stabbing him in the chest with her keys.

He rubbed her arm. “You don’t have to go through with this if it makes you nervous.”

“But I want to.” And now that he’d touched her—on purpose, and not accidentally while they’d been working together—she really wanted to. Nervous though she might be, she yearned for him in a way that was shocking in its intensity.

His voice dropped to a soft murmur. “You’re sure?”

Her answer came from some deeply buried part of herself, one that she’d never allowed to surface. “Kiss me and you’ll find out how sure I am.”

“Good idea.” His grip tightened on her arm and he guided her forward while he cupped the back of her head with his other hand, fingers spread.

She stopped breathing, stopped thinking, stopped noticing anything but his mouth as he drew her closer. He had a beautiful mouth, sculpted enough to be masculine, full enough to be sensual. She closed her eyes and trembled in anticipation.

“I’ve wanted to do this all night.” His breath was warm on her lips. He brushed her mouth with his. “You’re shaking.”

“I know.”

His lips stroked over hers again. “It’ll be okay.”

“I know.”

Then he settled in, and it was more than okay.

His kiss was velvet and sleek, rich and luxurious, slow and sweet. He savored her mouth as if tasting expensive brandy served in a crystal goblet. She had never felt so cherished.

Her keys clattered to the floor as she took his head in her hands. She wanted more. She wanted everything. Angling her mouth over his, she invited him deeper. He accepted the invitation with a firm thrust of his tongue.

Yes. She whimpered and he pulled her in close, sliding his arm around her waist and pressing her against his very hard, very aroused body as he continued to kiss the living daylights out of her.

Dear heaven, he really was a professional athlete, with all the toned muscles that job required. She’d known that intellectually, but experiencing it physically was more exciting than she’d imagined. She stroked his supple back, his broad shoulders, his tight buns.