CHAPTER ONE

      RAIN SNAKED DOWN the windshield of his F-150 in lazy rivers as Walker Pearce waited for the stoplight to turn green. Jackson Town Square was deserted, but the light waited for nonexistent tourists to make their way across the street. He hit the windshield wipers, wishing they could wipe the phantom trace of her fingers from his skin, as well. The cab of the truck still smelled like her perfume.

      Ignoring the rain, he cracked his window, then pulled forward when the light turned.

      It wasn’t that he hated her. It was just that he’d thought she’d really wanted to talk when she’d called. But, of course, that wasn’t what Nicole had wanted from him. It never was.

      He knew his scruples weren’t exactly sound. He’d kissed her, yes. In fact, they would’ve had sex one night if they hadn’t gotten spooked by a near interruption. So no, he couldn’t pretend that he was above such things, exactly. But somehow, messing around with the ranch owner’s wife had felt less wrong when it had been...happenstance. An unexpected moment alone in the tack room. An accidental meeting after a summer party. He hadn’t meant it. Neither had she. Or so he’d told himself.

      But now that he was no longer working at the Fletcher Guest Ranch, Nicole couldn’t leave it to chance. She’d called and asked him to meet her by Old Warm Springs. It was important, she’d said. She’d needed to see him. He’d liked that. Feeling important to a woman like her. But he’d mistaken the word.

      Walker scrubbed a hand over his mouth, thinking he’d have to shave his beard if the smell of her skin wouldn’t wash off.

      He hadn’t had sex with her this time, either, despite the way she’d climbed onto his lap and pressed herself against him. He wasn’t sure why he was so determined to protect her marriage. She didn’t seem to care all that much. Before he’d gotten fired from the ranch, Walker had told her they couldn’t do it because he worked for her husband, because they’d be doing it under the man’s roof, because he’d be fired if they got caught. But those things didn’t matter now, so why did he feel even less tempted?

      Maybe she’d just picked the wrong meeting spot. The springs had reminded him of junior high, and swimming with girls who’d made his head spin with fascinated lust when sex had seemed unattainable and dangerously romantic.

      Sex was no longer unattainable and there was nothing romantic about the danger with Nicole. She just made him sad. And he was worried that everyone at the ranch suspected. He’d been fired for yet another paperwork screwup, but being fired over paperwork wasn’t one of the most common stories told around a campfire. It had been an excuse. Walker had known that and so had his manager. Walker had no idea if that meant Nicole’s husband knew, or if it was a matter of rumors just becoming too much for management to ignore.

      Whatever the reason, seeing her felt wrong now, but his refusal had seriously pissed Nicole off. Maybe she wouldn’t call again.

      He felt only relief at the idea as he parked his truck in front of his apartment and got out. But instead of heading into the building, he crossed the lawn and walked toward the old saloon next door.

      Truthfully, he missed the ranch. He missed his dog. He needed a drink, and fast.

      “Hey!” Jenny Stone called from behind the bar as soon as he walked in. “You’re just the man I was looking for!”

      Walker couldn’t help the wide grin that spread across his face. Jenny was a damn cute blonde. “Oh, yeah? Is there something Nate ain’t giving you, darlin’? I’d be happy to oblige.”

      Jenny rolled her eyes. “You wish.”

      “True enough. But I do try to steer clear of a woman whose boyfriend carries a gun. Tends to leave a mark.” He took off his hat and grabbed a stool.

      “The usual?”

      When he nodded, she drew a beer and shot a nervous look toward the back of the saloon. Walker turned to look, but the place was nearly empty at 3:00 p.m. on a rainy Tuesday.

      She slid him his beer and leaned close. “You remember Charlie Allington?”

      For a moment, Walker had no idea who Jenny was talking about. He’d worked with a damn lot of cowboys in his day, some who’d come and gone so quickly that he’d never even learned their names. “Charlie,” he repeated, looking for a memory. The one that popped into his head shocked the hell out of him. “Oh, Charlie! Of course.”

      He and Charlie Allington—known as Charlotte only if you were trying to irritate her—had gone to high school together. In fact, she’d been his tutor for all of his junior year. “It’s been a long time,” he said.

      “So Charlie is Nate’s cousin. Once removed or second cousin or however that works.”

      “Is she doing okay?” Last he’d heard, she’d moved to Vegas for a big job.

      “She’s great. She’s back in town, working at one of the Teton resorts as a security manager, and she called Nate to ask if he knew a place she could stay.”

      “And you suggested my place?” he asked with an automatic wink. But he felt guilty as soon as he said it. The last time he’d seen Charlie she’d been a sweet teenage girl whose number-one interest had been the track team.

      “Oh, I know your door’s always open, but I need something else.”

      “What?”

      She smiled and cocked her head. “A favor.”

      He eyed her fluttering lashes suspiciously.

      “Rayleen has been complaining about the Stud Farm being invaded by a swarm of women.”

      “I’d hardly call Merry a swarm.”

      “Yeah, well, she’s still pissed that Grace moved out and talked Rayleen into letting Merry stay. She was hoping to pack the place with nothing but big hotties again this winter.” She nudged his elbow. “As usual.”

      He gave her another grin. Old Rayleen owned the apartment building next to the saloon. She had a long history of only renting to young men, and since the house had once been the Studd homestead before it’d been broken up into apartments and modernized, the town had started calling it the Stud Farm.

      Last year, Rayleen had reluctantly broken with her lecherous tradition and let her great-niece move in. Then her niece’s best friend.

      “What does this have to do with Charlie?” Walker asked.

      “Um...I was hoping you might talk Rayleen into renting to your old friend Charlie. You know, just another cowboy looking for a place to crash for the winter.”

      “Another— Oh, no. No way. Rayleen likes me.”

      “Rayleen loves you!” Jenny interrupted. “That’s why she’ll let Charlie move in without even seeing her. And by the time she’s moved in, even Rayleen wouldn’t be mean enough to evict her. Not to mention it’d be illegal to blatantly kick out a tenant for being female.”

      “What about kicking out a tenant for lying about a new renter?” he grouched.

      “She’ll forgive you. You’re too big and handsome and sexy for her to hold a grudge.” She fluttered her eyelashes again.

      “I like it a lot better when you don’t have an ulterior motive for calling me sexy.”

      “But that’s the only time I call you sexy, so catch-22.”

      He grinned. “You sure about that, Jenny?”