Rough Rider (Hot Cowboy Nights, #2)(9)

They’d been together off and on since high school. She was the girl every guy had wet dreams about. Gorgeous, bright, and bubbly, she’d won Miss Teen Rodeo in high school and now wore the crown for the state of Montana. On top of all that, her parents were loaded. Rachel’s ol’ man flew her around on his Beechcraft Baron twin-engine during her queen campaign and tonight his money paid for a fully catered shindig for family and friends.

Dirk had sensed their disapproval of him from the get-go, but after four years, her parents had grudgingly accepted him. But the feeling that they expected him to be grateful about it irked the hell out of him. Although his family wasn’t stinking rich like hers, they were still highly respected fourth-generation ranchers with a decent spread and a fairly profitable operation—by current ranching standards anyway.

He considered the expensive dress shirt, weighing the ire he’d incur from Rachel if he didn’t wear it. In the end, he threw down his towel, pulled a black tee out of his bag, sniffed it, and then grunted through the pain of pulling it on over his head. He knew he’d draw some severe looks by not dressing up, but he had a point to make. Like a hardmouthed mule, he wasn’t about to cave to the pressure. There would be no proposal. No engagement announcement tonight. Eventually. Maybe. But damn sure not tonight.

*

Janice brushed out her hair, applied a bit of blush and mascara, and then eyed herself in the mirror with a feeling of dismay. She wore her favorite pearl-button Western shirt with clean, if faded, jeans. Her only adornment, proudly worn, was the gold-buckled belt she’d won for breakaway roping at the high school rodeo. She’d polished up her ropers and dusted off a hat that was in bad need of reshaping. She wished now that she’d brought her “town” hat. Deciding she’d do better to go without, she cast the hat aside.

She hadn’t expected the party invitation and wished she’d brought nicer clothes, but she really didn’t have anything suitable at home anyhow. The only dress she owned was the one she’d worn to the senior prom three years ago, but she’d filled out so much since then that it probably didn’t fit anymore. She wondered what the other girls would be wearing, then told herself it didn’t matter. No one would be looking at her. She’d just fade into the background, stay for one quick drink, and then make a quiet departure. Alone.

Although Grady hadn’t called it that, Janice realized with a pang that this was her first real date since that same senior prom—a blind date set up by her best friend, Kelly. It had turned into the longest night of her life, spent fighting off her date’s sloppy kisses and groping hands in the backseat, while Kelly and Tom made out in the front. Danny, or maybe it was Donny, had called her a few times afterward, but she’d made enough excuses that he’d eventually given up.

After graduation she’d been too busy on the ranch even to think about guys. That was not to say any had ever given much thought to her, even though she’d dealt with dozens of cowboys since she’d begun helping her ol’ man. Sure, she’d exchanged playful banter while loading and flanking the stock, but it had never progressed beyond light flirtation. It had always been business.

Janice Lee Combes, twenty-one years old and barely kissed—least until now.

Grady had certainly kissed her like he meant business but her instincts told her he wasn’t one to invest his time and effort without expectation of a return. She had a sinking feeling she’d have a big decision to make before the night was out.

She wasn’t sure how she felt about that—or how prepared she really was to deal with it. She’d be lying to herself if she denied being flattered. She’d blown plenty of smoke earlier too. It was nice to have some attention, to be thought of as a girl, for once.

On cue, Grady rapped on her trailer door. “You ready yet, Sweet Cheeks?”

“Yeah. Be right there.”

She didn’t know why she’d allowed him to continue calling her that. “Sweet Cheeks” was annoying as hell—but mildly gratifying too. Maybe it was just the novelty, the fuzzy feeling of actually having a pet name. Even her parents had never called her anything but Janice or Janice Lee.

She fluffed her hair, applied a bit of lip gloss, then grabbed the new tooled-leather purse she’d bought earlier at the vendor booths. Taking a deep breath, she forced a smile and opened her trailer door. “I’m ready.”

“You look good enough to eat.” Grady flashed that coyote grin again—the one that made him look like a predator who indeed planned to make a meal of her. For the second time Janice wondered if she might actually be in over her head. She’d be wise to listen to that little voice.

One drink, she repeated, and then she’d leave the party. Alone.

*

Dirk paused at the entrance to the Plaza ballroom. There were a couple hundred guests, but he only recognized a handful of them. The collegiate bigwigs and all the rodeo officials had made an appearance, as well as members of the local press. Other than a handful of Dirk’s rodeo buddies, the rest were the kind of people who never got their hands dirty—the highbrow, hobby-ranch society types that he didn’t know…or much care to. Although it was a post-rodeo celebration, he guessed most of the people had never seen the inside of a livestock arena. They were the kind who watched it on their wall-mounted ultrahigh-def TVs—like the one that now played a slo-mo loop of his earlier hang-up.