Rough Rider (Hot Cowboy Nights, #2)(12)

In no mood to go chasing after her, he told himself a little distance wouldn’t hurt either of them—at least until he figured some things out. He really needed that beer.

*

Although Grady had invited her, Janice still felt like an interloper at the party. She was neither family nor friend to the Carsons, but just a lowly stock hand. Entering the Plaza ballroom, she felt completely outclassed. She wasn’t the only girl wearing jeans, but hers weren’t accessorized with eighteen-hundred-dollar, hand-tooled, Swarovski-crystal-covered boots. Her hair wasn’t impeccably coiffed and crowned by a rhinestone tiara over a Resistol beaver hat.

But it wasn’t just their pricey designer clothes. The snide sidelong looks from the counterfeit cowgirls told her she didn’t belong. Janice felt the same way. With her self-confidence in shreds, she made an excuse to Grady and a quick detour to the ladies’ room from which she planned to make a quick and painless exit.

All of that went out the window, however, when she came face-to-face with a teary-eyed, mascara-stained Rachel the rodeo queen, surrounded by her buckskin-fringed court. Greeted with dagger looks, Janice froze in her boots. Feeling like an intruder into a private melodrama, she was half tempted to back her way out the door but then they all turned back to Rachel. It was as if Janice had become suddenly invisible. More likely, they’d just decided she was beneath their notice.

“That bastard!” a brunette indignantly declared. “I can’t believe he’d string you along like that! It’s past time you kicked that cowboy to the curb, Rae.”

“Yeah,” a strawberry blond chimed in. “You’ve wasted enough time on him. There’s plenty of hot guys just dying to go out with you—ones who would show you the kind of respect you deserve.”

Respect? What was up with that? They couldn’t be talking about Dirk. Janice had never seen Dirk disrespectful to anyone who didn’t deserve it—especially not to a woman.

“I hate him,” Rachel sobbed. “No,” she amended through gritted teeth, “I positively loathe him.”

Janice closed the stall door, latching it shut behind her.

“Assholes like him always treat a woman like shit once they’ve gotten what they want.”

“I guess you’d know best, Mary Jane,” Janice heard the brunette mumble.

“But I didn’t…we haven’t…” Rachel protested.

“What?” exclaimed the cowgirl choir.

Janice felt her own jaw drop. Although her conscience told her to tune them out, she found herself holding her breath while she emptied her bladder.

“Let me get this straight,” said Strawberry. “In almost five years, you still haven’t done the dirty?”

“No…” Rachel replied. “Not technically speaking…”

“How technical are we talking, sugar?” the voice belonging to Mary Jane eagerly inquired.

“It’s vulgar to kiss and tell, Mary Jane,” Strawberry chided. “Didn’t your mama teach you anything?”

“Yeah, how not to get knocked up.” Mary Jane giggled. “I just can’t believe Rae took that ninth-grade purity vow for real. I think mine barely lasted through my sophomore year.”

“We know,” said the brunette. “The whole school knew. It’s probably why you never wore a Miss Teen Rodeo crown.”

“Fuck off, Miss Holier-Than-Thou.”

The girls had their claws fully exposed, and Janice half expected to see dark locks of hair and leather fringe flying over the stall door.

“Cut the bullshit, you two,” said the third voice. “This is about Rachel and Dirk. And it seems to me she made the right decision to hold out. He’s toed the line until now, hasn’t he? How many of you can say that?”

“Sorry, Rae,” Strawberry said. “She’s right, but if he’s taking you for granted, maybe it’s time to shake things up.”

“What do you mean?” Rachel sniffed.

“There’s a whole room full of hot cowboys just outside that door. You only need to waltz your little moneymaker out there and take your pick.”

“But that’s just it,” Rachel wailed. “I don’t want any of them. You can’t understand how it is between him and me. It’s always been Dirk. It’s only been him.”

Janice watched through the crack as three sets of arms enfolded her, muffling her sobs.

“What about Wade?” one of them suggested. “He’s pretty damned hot.”

“I wouldn’t mind a piece of that myself,” said Mary Jane.

“Exactly,” replied the voice Janice recognized as Strawberry. “What better way to make that SOB pay than to play up to his little brother?”

“Little?” Mary Jane said. “He’s gotta be six foot three at least, and you know what they say about the tall ones. Or maybe it was boot size? Anyone get a good look at his feet?”

“He’s perfect, Rae!” Strawberry intoned with another annoying giggle.

Yeah, perfect if you’re a nasty, conniving, and manipulative bitch, thought Janice. Hadn’t any of them grown up yet? This whole scene was like junior high all over again. She’d heard more than enough. Janice rose and flushed. She was thankful they were gone by the time she opened the door.