Cowboy Casanova (Rough Riders #12)(107)

myself. You can make me feel sexy and pretty.”


“You are sexy and pretty.” He pressed smooches to her lips.


“And when you give me such awesome compliments? They’re sincere. Not toss off

comments because you want to get laid.” She rubbed her mouth over his. “You know I’m

a sure thing. So I appreciate them even more.”


“The only sure thing about you, angel, is you keep me on my toes. I don’t take for

granted that you’re a sure thing because you can stop this at any time. And after last

night…I was really afraid you would.”


“Ben.” Ainsley placed a kiss on his chin. “I can’t promise you that this won’t

end, but I want to see it through until the end date we agreed on. Okay?”


That was more than he’d hoped for, but not nearly enough, and it’d have to do for

now. He said, “Okay.”


Chapter Seventeen


Ainsley had expected a decent turnout for the community event National West and Settler

’s First had co-sponsored for Chase McKay and his foundation. But she hadn’t expected

standing room only. She’d had to restock her bank information brochures and giveaway

items within the first fifteen minutes. The fishbowl overflowed into a cardboard box

with entries for the five hundred dollar drawing.


Forty-five minutes remained until the golden boy himself, Chase McKay, made an

appearance.


She’d seen Ben, not that he’d sought her out. He couldn’t—being surrounded by a

bevy of beauties limited his movement. Really, it was ridiculous. He was good looking.

And he did have that sexy dimpled chin. And those expressive blue eyes. And a great

body. And that deep, commanding voice. Those women were enticed by the pretty

packaging. But those women didn’t know him, the real him, not like she did.


Jealous much?


Truthfully, she hadn’t expected to see him, with his brother being the guest of honor.

Several tables had been reserved for the McKay family near the stage. Kids of varying

ages, with the same black hair and blue eyes as Ben, pawed through the freebie bin

until they all came up with matching whistles.



Leslie brought her a soda and an oatmeal raisin cookie during a lull. Turton had

volunteered to make the presentation, but Ainsley feared his monotone would put the

audience to sleep. She wasn’t a nervous speaker. She’d given many presentations in

her career, so it bothered her she had the heart pounding, stomach-churning attack of

nerves today. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this jittery.


Yes, you can. That second night with Bennett in the club. And the first night with

Bennett in the club. And every night since.


Not exactly the best timing for those reminders to pop up.


Steve Talbot, the bank president from Settler’s First, wandered over, holding his

fishbowl full of entry slips. “Shall we get this started?”


“You bet.” Ainsley grabbed her cardboard box and followed Steve up to the stage.


“Ladies first.”


“You the closer?”


He shrugged. “We’ve got seniority.”


Mayor Gilbert quieted everyone down. “Before we get to the main event with Chase