WHEN MORGAN had heard about the watermelon-eating contest a week ago, she’d decided to sign up for it, as well as any other activity going on during the celebration. She’d always enjoyed contests, but her parents frowned on competition. Besides, their wanderlust had pretty much guaranteed Morgan wouldn’t be playing organized sports.

      Watermelon-eating wasn’t exactly a sport, but she would take what she could get, although she hadn’t expected to be squaring off against the Chance brothers. Somewhere she’d heard that a woman had to be careful of a man’s ego and not beat him at games. Forget that noise. As long as she was here, she planned to whip everyone at this table, including the gorgeous Gabe Chance.

      Edgar Perkins raised his hand. “The rules are that you may not hold on to the plate. You can touch it to pull it closer, but you may not hold on. Anyone caught holding the plate will be disqualified. We’ll start on my signal.”

      Morgan’s blood was up. After her set-to with Jack she’d headed to town ready to show everyone this girl knew how to have a good time. She’d changed her shirt because it was a pain in the ass having to worry about that snap, but otherwise, she intended to enjoy herself fully.

      Then Gabe had appeared, and her bravado had disappeared. His family didn’t like her, so she’d decided she didn’t like them, either, and that had to include Gabe. No doubt he’d choose pleasing his family over pleasing her, so why bother with him? She’d only set herself up for heartbreak.

      Madge Perkins hadn’t made it easy to duck out, though, and now Morgan had recommitted herself to the contest and to a day of fun. Gabe’s mother and his oldest brother weren’t around, so if he wanted to share that day with her, she wouldn’t push him away. It was a free country—which was what they were celebrating—after all.

      “On my signal,” said Edgar. “Ready, set, go!”

      Morgan dove in. She ate without stopping, swallowing pieces whole and biting off gigantic chunks of the sweet melon. She swallowed her share of seeds in the process.

      She might be sick after this, but she didn’t care. Watermelon juice coated her mouth and her chin. As she buried her face deep in the cool pulp, even her cheeks became slicked with pink slime.

      She paid no attention to Gabe, chomping away on his melon next to her. Focus was the name of the game. But even through her intense concentration she heard people starting to chant her name. Dominique was pulling for Nick, of course. All the other contestants, including

      Gabe, had cheering sections. But Morgan didn’t know many people, so if they were shouting her name, she must be ahead.

      She ate faster and realized Edgar was leaning close, watching her and Gabe intently. She was down to the white part when he sang out “winner!” Looking up, she discovered Edgar’s hand poised over her head. She’d done it.

      “Congratulations, champ.”

      She turned, her chin dripping with juice, to find Gabe in the same condition, and he was grinning at her.

      “You did it.” He didn’t sound upset. He even seemed happy that she’d won. Then he did the most amazing thing. He put his hand behind her head, pulled her close, and kissed her, watermelon juice and all.

      A cheer went up from the crowd.

      Morgan was too shocked to react at first. Gabe was kissing her? In public? When they were both totally slimed with watermelon juice?

      Then the heat of his kiss began to register. He was using his tongue. And so was she. Watermelon juice made for one sexy kissing session.

      She forgot where they were. She forgot to breathe. She forgot her name. Whistling and stomping noises caused her to realize vaguely that their behavior wasn’t particularly appropriate for this venue. Even so, she had the urge to pull Gabe under the table and continue the kiss a long time.

      Mercifully, he drew back before she did something really embarrassing. A low chuckle rich with implications told her that he’d been a little surprised by the intensity, too. “We might want to try that again sometime,” he murmured.

      She lifted heavy-lidded eyes to his. “I’m game.”

      “So I gathered.”

      Edgar approached with the prize, which was a gift certificate for two lunches at the Shoshone Diner. “Well, Gabe, you are sure a good loser. I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a good loser in my life.”

      “No kidding,” Nick said. “Good thing I didn’t win. I don’t think I could have handled playing tonsil hockey with my brother.”

      Dominique walked forward. “Wanna see the pics?”

      “You took pictures?” Morgan wasn’t so sure about that.

      “Get used to it,” Nick said. “Dominique takes pictures of everything. Don’t be surprised if this ends up in a gallery in Jackson, although I promise she’ll ask first.”

      “Don’t worry,” Dominique said. “Just say the word and I’ll delete it. But I hope you don’t tell me to, because I think it’s great.” She turned the camera so that Morgan could see the shot on the back screen.

      There she was, kissing Gabe for all she was worth. Good thing he was kissing her for all he was worth, too, or she’d have been mortified. As it was, she was sort of … fascinated. She’d never seen a picture of herself kissing anyone, let alone a hottie like Gabe Chance.