Blame It On The Cowboy

“You’re late,” the man said.

Yes, Logan.

The brusque tone caused Reese to freeze. Not Della, though. The woman popped him on the shoulder with a wooden spoon. “What kind of welcome is that?” Della scolded him.

Reese suspected Della was one of the few people on the planet who could get away with that question. Or the spoon pop.

Cassie shot Logan a glare. “Reese had to walk here,” Cassie informed him.

Logan didn’t look exactly pleased with that explanation or the spoon popping. Or with Reese.

“Logan’s mad because I said I wasn’t going to ask you for references,” Della explained.

Oh.

Well, that told her loads. He was suspicious of her. Unless Logan was this careful about everyone who crossed paths with his family.

“We need to talk,” Logan told her, and he took hold of Reese’s arm.

“She’s here to go over the party,” Della protested, but she might as well have been talking to the air because Logan didn’t listen. And he was out of spoon range now.

Reese didn’t put up any resistance whatsoever. She’d come here hoping to have a private word with either Logan or Lucky, and she was apparently going to get it. Though it still didn’t mean he was the one she’d slept with. This little chat could be a warning for her to stay away from his brother. Or away from his family’s kitchen if he was truly concerned about her references.

Logan led her to the side of the house to a sunroom that overlooked one of the white-fenced pastures. Reese hadn’t smelled the poop in the main part of the house, but she certainly did back here.

“Yeah, we’re working on that,” he grumbled.

Until he said that, Reese hadn’t even been aware she was making a face. That’s because she was focused on the face Logan was making at her. Sissy Lee had said Lucky had a panty-dropping smile, but Logan must have missed out on that particular genetic trait. His abilities seemed more geared toward intimidation tactics.

“What kind of game are you playing, huh?” Logan demanded.

Since that could cover a lot of territory, Reese went with a question of her own. “What kind of game do you think I’m playing?”

Man, he was the rock star of glares, too. “What happens in San Antonio stays in San Antonio?” he tossed at her.

Bingo. So, he was the one. Part of her was relieved that he was the hot cowboy and not Lucky. At least this way Cassie wouldn’t be hurt.

“How did you find me?” he snapped.

“Your truck.”

He nodded as if no further explanation was necessary. Reese braced herself for the questions that would almost certainly follow.

Or not.

Logan inched toward her, and it didn’t appear he had question-asking on his mind. He moved close enough that Reese caught his scent. Very familiar. And as it done that night in the hotel bar, his scent slid right through her. Pretty amazing considering it wasn’t any particular scent and managed to completely erase the bull-poop odor.

For a moment, she thought he was going to kiss her. He moved in as if he might just do that despite the steely look in his eyes. And for a moment it might have seemed to him as if he were going to kiss her, too. His gaze dropped to her mouth before he snapped it away and met her eye to eye.

“I ran a background check on you,” he threw out there.

Of course he had. Reese wondered why she hadn’t considered it sooner. Oh, mercy. Not this, not now. Had Logan learned what had happened? She hoped not. She hated the thought of anyone knowing how stupid she’d been.

“Are you here to run some kind of con?” Logan added, and his glare didn’t ease up one bit.

So, he’d found out about that part of her past. He didn’t know about Spenser. Because if Logan knew that, he would have brought it up first.

“I’m not here to con you.” Reese was certain he wouldn’t believe her, though. And he didn’t.

Logan opened his mouth, no doubt to demand that she leave and never come back, but before he could say a word, someone yelled out, “No!” and it was followed by a loud cry.

Logan scrambled around her, running toward the sound of that cry, and when Reese caught up with him, she saw the little girl, Mia, on the floor at the bottom of the stairs. She was sobbing and holding her arm.

“Mia was chasing the cat on the stairs and fell,” Cassie explained.

Cassie wasn’t sobbing exactly, but she was crying. And looking very much like a concerned mom. So was the teenager who was coming down the steps to her sister’s aid. And the little boy she’d seen playing with Mia earlier. He also had tears in his eyes. Heck, so did Reese, she realized.

“I think it’s broked,” Mia said through the sobs.

Logan was the only one not in the crying/panic mode. He eased Mia into his arms and started toward the door. “Cassie and I’ll take her to the ER. Someone call Lucky and have him meet us there.”

“Do you need me to go with you?” Reese asked him.

“No, stay here and finish your chat with Della.”

Della took out her phone, and Cassie hurried to open the door. Logan followed Cassie out but not before looking back at Reese.

“This isn’t over,” Logan warned her.

* * *

REESE DREAMED ABOUT LOGAN. And tonight it was just as good as the real thing had been.

The kiss in the hotel bar especially.

Until that kiss Reese hadn’t been sure she could even go through with the last item on her bucket list, but that kiss had pretty much put to bed any doubts she’d had. And it had just been the start.

Logan had initiated the second kiss, in the elevator as they’d headed up to the room. In fact, the kiss had gotten so scalding hot that his hand had ended up under her top, his leg between hers, and there was a whole lot of pressure from his body pressing hers against the elevator door.

That’d been incredible until the door opened, and they’d tumbled out into the hall and landed on their butts.

The clumsiness hadn’t stopped there. Nope. They had been so busy kissing and grappling at each other that they’d banged into the wall outside her room, once with such precision that they’d nearly had accidental sex in the hall.

Even now in the dream, Reese could still feel that hunger. Hunger she hadn’t even known was there. And there were sounds that had never been in the dream before, either. Knocking sounds. It was almost as if Logan and she were having sex against the wall, after all.

Or not.

Because the dream changed. Not to sex with Logan but to another part of her life. One she didn’t want to remember. But she did.

Spenser.

It was hard to hide from memories in a dream because they chased you down, chewed you up, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

But the sound stopped it. And the sound wasn’t part of the dream this time. Definitely not Logan. That became clear when she heard someone call out her name. Her real name. Logan had only called her Julia that night. And whoever was calling out her name now was also knocking on her door.

Jimena.

For a moment, Reese thought her friend might be part of the dream, as well. She staggered out of bed and went to the door, checking the time along the way. It was close to midnight.

And it was Jimena, all right.

“Food pimp,” Jimena said, holding up several large grocery bags. She came in, looked around. Not that she had to look far to take it all in. It was only about two hundred feet of space for the kitchen, bed, sitting area and bathroom.

“Uh, what are you doing here?” Reese asked.

Not that she wasn’t happy to see her, but when Jimena had dropped Reese off in Spring Hill four days ago, Jimena had said she was heading back to Houston to see some old friends. When they’d spoken on the phone earlier that morning, Jimena hadn’t mentioned anything about a visit.

“I’m here to help you.” Jimena handed her the bags of groceries, which Reese was certain contained nothing but junk food. She closed the door, took Reese by the hand and led her to the window.

“See that guy?” Jimena asked.

There were streetlights, but it still took Reese several moments to pick through the night and see the man in the back parking lot of the McCord building. Definitely not Lucky or Logan.

“Who is he?” Reese wanted to know.

“Some guy I met at a bar in San Antonio. His name is Elrond—you know like in Lord of the Rings? His dad was a huge fan. I know, I violated my bucket rule of making my way through the alphabet. I was up to the I’s, but all the I-guys I met didn’t do anything for me. Anyway, Elrond’s a great kisser, but he’s got something even better in his jeans.”

Reese groaned. She was so not in the mood for one of Jimena’s sex spill-alls. “I have the breakfast shift at the café. I have to be at work in six hours.”

“Well, this shouldn’t take long at all.” She pointed to Elrond again. “He’s got a key to the McCord building.”

Instant suspicion.

Of course Reese had told Jimena about her Lucky/Logan dilemma, but she certainly hadn’t expected Jimena to do anything about it. Especially anything illegal.

“Did he steal the key?” Reese asked.

“No. He was doing some renovations for the McCords a while back and forgot to return the key. I figured you could use it to look for the watch while no one’s there.”

Reese was still skeptical. “And how do you know no one is there? Logan has an apartment on the top floor.”

Jimena smiled. “He’s not there tonight. Don’t you ever listen to gossip? The clerk at the gas station said Logan was in Dallas for a meeting and won’t be back until tomorrow.”

It was the first Reese was hearing of this—and yes, she did listen to gossip. Hard not to hear it in a town this small. But she hadn’t been especially listening for gossip about Logan but rather Mia. It turned out that the little girl’s arm wasn’t broken, after all, just sprained and bruised.

“You said you were anxious to get the watch and then leave town,” Jimena reminded her. “So, here’s your chance. Say, what made you so eager to leave, anyway?”

“Logan. He ran a background check on me.”

Jimena gasped. A reaction that Reese had had herself. Her past had a nasty way of coming back to haunt her. Usually she could outrun it, but this time it’d caught up with her.

“Did Logan tell your boss?” Jimena asked.

“Not yet. But he will.” If it hadn’t been for taking Mia to the ER and then this trip to Dallas, Logan probably would have already done it.

That meant tonight might be her last chance to find that watch. Bert probably wouldn’t fire her on the spot, but that was only because of his wife’s surgery. He needed her for both the breakfast and lunch shifts, but he would give Reese her walking papers as soon as he could find someone else. Or heck, maybe he would just close the café for a while.

“I don’t even know if the watch is in the McCord building,” Reese admitted.

“Elrond said Logan lives there, like all the time. Where else would he have put it?”

Maybe in the trash, but that tightened her stomach just thinking about it.

“If you find it, you won’t even have to do the breakfast shift,” Jimena said. “You can grab Tootsie Roll and ride back with me to San Antonio.”

It was past being tempting, and it wasn’t as if she had a ton of options. Now that Logan knew who she was, he might never give her back the watch because he might think she’d stolen it.

“You’re sure you can trust Elrond?” Reese asked.

“The man gives multiple orgasms. Of course I can trust him.”

There was no correlation to that, none, but Reese decided she had no choice but to risk it. She put the grocery bags on the counter, pulled on her jeans and a T-shirt and followed Jimena out to the stairs and then out of the Bluebonnet. They didn’t walk on Main Street but rather on the street behind the inn. Probably because Jimena wanted to make sure they weren’t seen.

Reese only hoped she didn’t regret this, but she already had a bad feeling about it.

When they made it to Elrond, he kissed Jimena, and they started in on a make-out session while he handed Reese the key. His aim wobbled, because he had his eyes closed while kissing, and Reese finally just snagged them. Part of her almost hoped the key didn’t work, that Logan had changed the locks.

But it worked just fine.

She slipped into the back door, the AC immediately spilling over her. The floors were marble, all shiny and cool, and even the walls had some kind of slick finish to them. The bottom floor was dark except for the base lighting around a copper and bronze sculpture of a longhorn. It was large enough to have been a real cow, and Reese dodged the lethal-looking horns as she made her way around it.

She also had to fight back a scream when something went zipping past her. Sheez. It was possibly a raccoon.

Or a very small, hyped-up guard dog.

It shot out of the reception area and disappeared. No growling sounds. No clawing sounds, either, so she hoped it wasn’t coming back for her.

Since she wasn’t sure how much time she had, Reese went straight to the hall. There were a series of offices, thank goodness with nameplates on the outside. Logan’s was all the way at the end.

And locked.

She tried the key, but it didn’t work. Sadly, she knew how to pick a lock, but she hadn’t brought the old tools of an old trade with her. Elrond probably had something that would work, but judging from the way Jimena and he had gone after each other, he probably had her on the backseat by now for another round of those multiple orgasms.

Instead, Reese went up the stairs. There were more offices here on the second floor, each door indicating the name of another person who worked for Logan and his brothers. She doubted he’d put a watch in any of these offices so she went up the final flight of stairs to the third floor.

There were double doors, wide-open, so she stepped inside.

Whoa.

Unlike her place at the Bluebonnet Inn, this loft was huge. It sprawled over the entire third floor. There were no overhead lights on, but thankfully there was enough illumination coming from the appliances in the kitchen area that she could see well enough.

And what she could see was a mess.

There were gouges in the walls as if someone had punched it multiple times. No, correction. Someone had thrown stuff at it because some of that stuff was still on the polished hardwood floors. Broken sculptures—including what appeared to be a porcelain breast of a woman. Books. Glass. Feathers. Even the remnants of a coffee table.

Had someone vandalized the place? Robbed it?

That caused her to mumble a couple of “Oh, Gods.” Because that might mean this was some kind of setup. Maybe Elrond had willingly given her the keys so she could take the blame for this.

Reese turned to run out, but she caught the movement from the corner of her eye. In case the burglar was still there, she picked up the first thing she could grab off the floor. The porcelain breast. Hardly a serious weapon, but she could hurl it at the person if he attacked, and the nipple might put out an eye.

But he didn’t attack.

He stepped from the shadows. Slowly. As if he had all the time in the world.

It was Logan.

And he was naked.

No, not naked. He was wearing boxers, but she had focused on the naked parts because they were more noticeable. He was sipping a drink, also slowly.

“Reese,” he said, his voice low and slightly dangerous.

Or maybe that was confusion in his tone because of the porcelain nippled boob she had aimed at him.

“You didn’t take this to the grave very long, did you?” Logan asked, and had another sip of his drink, clearly waiting for her answer.

CHAPTER SIX

LOGAN WASN’T SURPRISED to see Reese. In fact, he’d anticipated it. In hindsight, though, he should have coupled his anticipation with a pair of pants. Greeting a burglar in his boxers just wasn’t very intimidating.

Reese noticed the boxers, all right. Her gaze slid over him, and even though he couldn’t see her eyes that well in the darkness, he thought maybe she was remembering the night in the hotel.

Logan certainly was.

In fact, when he’d dozed off earlier, he’d dreamed about it.

“Should I offer you a drink or call the cops?” he asked. The second one wasn’t really an option, of course. No way did he want to have to explain this to anyone. But Reese didn’t know that.

“You want the cops to find out you slept with me?” Reese tossed right back at him.

So she did know it was a bluff. She probably thought that made this a stalemate. It didn’t. Because Logan had something Reese wanted, and it didn’t have anything to do with the part of his body she was gawking at.

To stop the gawking, Logan took his jeans from the bed and pulled them on. She looked away when he did that. Maybe because she realized she’d been gawking, but her attention landed on the porcelain tit she was holding. She eased it back onto the floor with the rest of the broken clutter.

It wasn’t just any old porcelain tit, though. It’d been a “special” gift from Helene. Molded porcelain bookends of her breasts. An inside joke between the two of them. But one of the bookends had gone missing before she’d been able to give the set to him so Logan had instead used it as a decorative figurine.

Logan also took his dad’s knife from the nightstand and slipped it in his pocket. Not because he thought he might need it to get Reese out of there but because he didn’t want to risk her stealing it.

“By the way,” she said. “There’s a raccoon or weird dog running around downstairs.”

“Cat,” he corrected. “A couple of months ago my brother brought three cats here to stay temporarily. He moved the other two, but no one’s been able to catch that one.”

He could understand, though, how she’d mistaken it for a raccoon because it did look like one. And Reese suddenly looked a little horrified.

“Months?” she questioned. “Please tell me someone’s feeding it.”

He nodded, not that he wanted to have a conversation about the feline he’d dubbed Crazy Cat. “My assistant, Greg, leaves out food and changes the litter box.”

Though Greg had yet to see the cat. In fact, to the best of Logan’s knowledge, only he and now Reese had actually seen it since it had been brought to the building.

And this wasn’t at all what he wanted to discuss or think about.

“Redecorating?” she asked. She didn’t sound concerned that she’d just been caught breaking and entering. But she did look nervous. Reese was rubbing her hands along the sides of her jeans.

“More or less.”

Definitely less. The items were all things Helene had given him, and for some reason it gave him pleasure to smash them to bits. And then look at the bits. Strange because usually he couldn’t stand clutter or anything out of place, but he had no desire whatsoever to clean up this mess. In fact, he was enjoying watching the fine layers of dust build up with each passing week.

Reese stayed quiet a moment while she studied him. “It really was you with me in San Antonio. After I left your house, I considered the possibility that maybe you were trying to cover for your brother, and that perhaps he’d told you what the note I left in the hotel room said. You could have done that so his girlfriend wouldn’t be hurt. But it really was you. I can see it now.”

It did sting a little that she hadn’t been able to see it right off. He might look like Lucky, but they didn’t act anything alike. Of course, he hadn’t been acting like himself at that hotel, either.

“Julia Child,” he said to remind her that she had been the one to set the rules for that night.

Reese nodded, pushed her hair from her face. “Hot no-name cowboy.”

He waited to see if she was going to explain any of what’d happened that night. Apparently not.

“I came for the watch,” she said.

Yes, he’d figured that out. But what he hadn’t figured out was why. “Was it part of some con?”

Now, most people would have looked shocked and asked, What con? Or seemed outraged at such a suggestion. But because he’d run that background check on her and because she’d just broken into his place, Reese probably knew outrage and surprise would seem as genuine as the name she’d given him in that bar.

“I’d like to have that drink now,” she said.

Reese sank down onto one of the chairs in the sitting area. The stuffing was coming out of it, and it was covered with feathers from the throw pillows he’d gutted. Since it was copper colored, it looked like a huge molting chicken.

The drink offer hadn’t been genuine, but since Logan needed a refill, he flipped on the lamp and poured them each a glass. He handed it to her and then backed away. Even though he had on jeans now, he was still shirtless, and he was remembering the heated look she’d given him earlier.

A look he’d probably given her, too.

He didn’t understand why his body was attracted to this con woman, and he didn’t care. The attraction wasn’t going to play into this.

“How did you get into the building?” he asked. “Did you pick the lock?”

“Key.” She fished through her jeans pocket, came up with a key and dropped it on the small table next to the chair. “And don’t ask how I got it.”

“How’d you get it?”

She tossed back the shot and made a face just as she’d done after the tequila shots in the bar. “Found it. And no, I didn’t steal it. Nor did I steal anything once I was inside.” Reese paused. “You found out about my parents.”

“Yes,” he settled for saying. Logan didn’t add more. He wanted to see what spin she would put on this.

But there was no spin. She waited him out, and Logan decided he’d already spent too much time on Reese.

“Your parents, Marty and Vickie, are con artists. Your father died in prison a few years ago, but both have multiple arrests for pulling various scams. Scams in some cases where they used you.”

The PI had provided Logan with only one such case, but he figured there were more. In the one the that PI had learned about, Reese had distracted a store owner, claiming she fell and was hurt, while her parents stole items.

“That incident with Mia must have brought back some memories for you,” he snapped. “Of course, the difference is she wasn’t faking. So, what else did you fake? Did you pretend to be attracted to me—”

She came off the chair so fast that Logan didn’t have time to react. Reese took hold of him, jerked him to her and kissed him. It wasn’t the first time he’d been forced-kissed. It had happened one other time when he was a stupid teenager and had pretended to be Lucky so he could break up with a girl who was giving him some trouble.

That kiss was nothing like this one.

For one thing, there was some anger involved here. Not on his part. Logan was still trapped between surprise and “what the hell is she doing?” stage. Reese, though, was obviously trying to make a statement, and that statement was that she could make him feel the kiss in every inch of his body.

Every. Inch.

And she succeeded.

By the time she let go of him, Logan had moved on to the next stage. A hard-on. But since his dick had already caused him to make a bad decision by sleeping with her in the first place, Logan ignored the ache in his groin and stepped back.

“That’s why I slept with you,” she growled. “It didn’t have anything to do with who I am, your bank account, your ranch or your dusty stuff.” Reese flung her hand at the damaged items again.

The kiss obviously hadn’t affected her the same way it had affected him. Or so he thought. But then Logan heard her uneven breathing, saw the flush in her cheeks. Saw her glance at his hard-on. A long glance. That caused her breathing to become even more ragged.

It didn’t mean anything, of course.

So what if they were attracted to each other? It didn’t mean he was going to act on it. However, he was going to act on something else—getting her out of his life and away from his dick.