Cowboys & Angels. Vicki Thompson Lewis

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Cowboys & Angels - Vicki Thompson Lewis


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bed. See you tomorrow.”

      “You bet. And thanks again.” Trey continued down the hall. So Elle was susceptible to his music, was she? That was a bonus he hadn’t counted on.

      Amy thought he should do something with his gift. Apparently, he already had. And he’d continue to use it to charm his angel until she figured out they had something special going on.

      * * *

      CARRYING HER SKIS and poles in a zippered bag in one hand and two clipboards in the other, Elle walked out to the bunny hill a little before nine, the time appointed for the beginner lessons. She prided herself on always being on time, but this morning she’d been more motivated than usual.

      Jackson Hole had trotted out one of its famously perfect winter mornings. A cobalt sky arched over pine forests crisscrossed with ski runs. Sunlight turned the snow into a rhinestone-studded carpet.

      Elle couldn’t imagine a more beautiful setting than this one. She’d bounced out of bed with the kind of energy she’d had as a kid. Breakfast had tasted like gourmet fare, even though it was her usual yogurt and fruit combined with strong coffee.

      She had plenty of reservations about letting Trey into her life, but for the short term, he’d made her feel as if she’d spent a day at the spa. Her body hummed with awareness knowing she’d see him very soon.

      She was already planning ahead, looking for opportunities for them to be alone so that she could feel his magic hands, taste his exotic kisses and feel the thrust of his...well, yes. Definitely that, too. She got hot thinking about it.

      He was scheduled to play for the rehearsal dinner tonight, but after that...he’d be all hers. She’d had a short conversation with Amy in the employee cafeteria, and Amy had mentioned meeting Trey in the hallway. Amy wouldn’t gossip, but she’d warned Elle that Trey’s song and his subsequent exit from the bar with Elle would fuel rumors.

      Probably. She wasn’t going to let worry about fallout dampen her mood today, though. She’d enjoyed the most thrilling sex of her life last night, and the man responsible for that would be at the bunny hill any minute. A little voice in her head warned her that she was flirting with disaster, and she ignored it.

      Jared was already there. Leaning her gear against the side of the ski hut they used as a base of operations, she walked over to him. “Ready for the newbies?”

      “Absolutely.” With his lean, muscular body, Jared fit the image of a sexy ski instructor. He inspired confidence in those he coached with his brilliant smile, which flashed often in a face tanned by constant exposure to sun reflecting off snow.

      Women found him irresistible, but Elle had never heard about any liaisons with guests. She decided to ask him about that. “I know the ladies hit on you all the time. Have you ever...?” She wasn’t quite sure how to state it so she wouldn’t offend him.

      Jared winked at her. “Elle, you know perfectly well that a gentleman doesn’t discuss his affairs.”

      “So you have had them!”

      “I didn’t say that.”

      “You didn’t have to. If you’d walked the straight and narrow, you would have told me. But you hedged.”

      Jared studied her with dark eyes that hinted at his Mediterranean heritage. “Why do I get the idea this isn’t an idle question?”

      “Because it’s not, obviously. I’ve never done anything like this before, and I want to know how much potential trouble I could cause myself.”

      “Does this have something to do with the singing cowboy?”

      She stared at him. “How did you know it was him?”

      “Sweetheart, everybody knows.”

      “They do not.” She couldn’t believe word had traveled that fast. “You’re making that up.”

      “Nope. The Last Chance crowd is well aware that he searched high and low for you following his accident last spring. Add in his revealing performance at the bar last night and the two of you leaving together, and it doesn’t take a genius.” He surveyed her. “If I needed any confirmation, all I have to do is look at you. You’re bright as a penny that just popped out of the U.S. mint.”

      Elle groaned. “He’s signed up for a lesson this morning, along with five other guys from the ranch. Are you saying they’ll all know?”

      “It’s a safe bet.”

      “Great. How am I supposed to handle that?”

      “It won’t be a problem.”

      “How do you know? I think it could be a huge problem. Teasing, innuendoes, stuff like that.”

      “Obviously, you don’t know much about cowboys, Elle. I suppose you wouldn’t, because they don’t come up here much. You’ve never had a reason to understand the culture.”

      “What culture?”

      “Cowboys have a code of honor. I’m not saying all of them do, but it’s expected of the Last Chance bunch or they’re sent on their way. Those guys might give each other grief, but they would never knowingly embarrass a woman, especially a woman connected to one of their buddies.”

      “How do you know so much about it?”

      Jared smiled. “That’s what you learn if you stick around during the summer and hang out at the Spirits and Spurs in Shoshone. You should try it sometime.”

      “I follow the snow.”

      “I’ve heard you say that, but doesn’t it get monotonous?”

      Elle shrugged. “I’m an army brat. Staying in one place all the time is what would get monotonous for me. Besides, skiing is what I do.”

      “It’s what I do, too, but I take a break in the summer.” He glanced over her shoulder. “Looks like our students are on the way. Prepare yourself.”

      “What for?” Elle turned around and had to fight to keep from laughing. The women were all outfitted in typical water-resistant skiwear they’d probably bought in Jackson or in the resort ski shop. The men were a different story. They had the required skis, boots and poles. But they’d dressed for a day riding the range, not a morning on skis. All of them wore jeans, sheepskin jackets, leather gloves and Stetsons.

      No, wait. One man was outfitted in ski clothes, a short, barrel-chested guy sporting a handlebar mustache. She’d bet he was the one signed up with the women in Jared’s group.

      “Good luck,” Jared murmured.

      “It’s only the bunny slope. Shouldn’t matter.” She counted the men as they approached, and her gaze locked momentarily with Trey’s. He grinned, and she couldn’t help grinning back. She hoped he felt as great this morning as she did.

      But her quick head count gave her seven men instead of six. One of the Last Chance group must have changed his mind and decided to try the sport after all. She wondered if they’d communicated on the dress code or if they’d all come to this Western-wear decision of their own accord.

      “Good morning, gentlemen, and welcome.” She handed one clipboard to Trey, who’d reached her first, his long strides betraying his eagerness. She gave the other one to the next man, who also wore a mustache, although not of the handlebar variety. “If you’ll pass the clipboards around and fill out the required liability form, we can get started. While you’re doing that, you can also introduce yourselves.”

      “I’m Trey Wheeler.” He said it as if he’d never met her before. No one smirked or made a comment.

      “Gabe Chance,” said the man with the sandy mustache.

      A green-eyed man next to him spoke up. “Nick Chance.”

      “We brought him along ’cause he’s a veterinarian,” Gabe said. “If we break anything,


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