Long Hard Ride (Rough Riders #1)(3)

Cash took her aside. “You stayin’ at the Silver Spur tonight?”
 


“Why?”


“Seems his wife got wind of his female traveling partner and demanded he return to Australia.”


“Serves that bastard right. Where’s Channing now?”


Another nervous glance passed between Trevor and Cash.


Colby’s stomach muscles tightened. “I said: Where’s Channing?”


“That’s the thing. We don’t know.”


He counted to ten. “Did she leave with him?”


Cash snorted. “Not after she smacked him upside the head with her trophy last night when she found out about his missus.”


Colby fought a smile. He would’ve loved to’ve seen that. “Where’d she stay last night?”


“The Silver Spur.”


Damn. She could’ve been in the room right next to him, listening to some strange chick suck him off. For the first time in a long time, his actions made him ashamed. “What room?”


“One eleven.”


“Did you check on her this morning?”


Trevor nodded. “Cash knocked. She didn’t answer. So he came and got me and I tried. She wouldn’t come to the door for me either. I don’t think she’s here. The maid wouldn’t let us in.”


“Did you ask the front desk if she’d checked out?”


Cash and Trevor exchanged a sheepish look.


Idiots.


Colby pushed away from the trailer and headed toward the motel office.


“Hey, Colby. Where you goin’?”


He didn’t answer. He just kept walking. And tried like hell not to run.


Channing nursed a Bud Light in a corner booth. She picked at her second bowl of pretzels and listened to the jukebox wailing another sad song about love gone wrong. In her life even lust had gone wrong.


The cowbell on the front door clanked against the wood as the door opened again, then slammed shut. This was a busy place. Maybe if all else failed she could get hired to sling beer. Her focus strayed to the list of options she’d jotted in her journal, none of which appealed to her.


The bench seat across from her creaked. Thinking Moose had swung by to flirt, she smiled and looked up.


But Colby McKay grinned back at her. “Thought I might find you here, darlin’.”


Channing suppressed a feminine sigh. His dimples ought to be illegal. “I figured you’d already taken off.”


“I could say the same. I heard what happened last night.”


She reached for her pencil. “I’m sure everyone has heard by now.”


Her gaze narrowed. “Why didn’t you tell me Jared was married?”


“Because you’d be pissed off at me thinkin’ I had some ulterior motive in tellin’ you the truth.” He spun her notebook around and studied it.


“Which is entirely true. But it don’t matter now.”


“That ulterior motive why you’re here?”


“Yep.”


Her heart thudded. She struggled to project an image of absolute calm. “As I’m short on options, I’m open to suggestions.”


“Fair enough. Tell me something first, before we get into those options.”


“Okay.”


“What are you runnin’ from?”


It was tempting to hedge or flat out lie. She did neither. “My past. My future. Take your pick.”


“Maybe you oughta explain that confusin’ comment to this dumb ol’


country boy.”


She rolled her eyes. “Dumb, yeah right. You don’t fool me, Colby McKay.”


“And you don’t fool me, Channing Kinkaid.”


His meaning settled on her thick, sweet and sticky as wild honey.


“My story is not that interesting, actually. I’ve followed the rules—my parent’s rules—my whole life. Just like my older sister, I graduated from an Ivy League school of their choice. Got my Masters degree because that’s what offspring of the people in their social circle do. My dad lined up a teaching job for me at a prestigious private prep school starting in the fall.”


“And?”


She gripped the wooden pencil so tightly it cracked. “And when Mom and Dad introduced me to a wimpy accountant who reeked of Old Spice and old money, and they encouraged me to accept his marriage proposal after one lousy date, I snapped. I realized I wasn’t living my life; I was living theirs. I needed a break and ran away with the rodeo.”


Colby smiled and gently removed the gnawed-on, broken pencil from her death grip. “Regrets about that?”


“Besides my poor choice of a traveling partner? Strangely enough, no.”


His thumb swept across the vein on the inside of her wrist, sending tingles up her forearm. “What are your plans now that Jared is gone?”


“That’s what I’m sitting here trying to figure out.”


“Do you want to go home?”