by Cindy Kirk
“I liked Kansas,” she said. “But Wyoming has always been home.”
“Your résumé said you graduated from KU with a degree in Political Science.” He smiled and a teasing glint filled his eyes. “Looks like you were planning to go to law school. Am I right?”
“I considered it,” Betsy admitted. “But I really love being a paralegal.”
Betsy went on to tell Ryan that after high school, she’d moved to Lawrence to live with a cousin. She’d worked for a year as a waitress, then decided to give higher education a shot. “After graduating from KU I moved to Kansas City and completed a paralegal program in Overland Park.”
“I bet you’re a dynamite legal assistant,” he said with such sincerity that tears stung the back of her eyes.
“My past employers all seemed to think so.” With the exception of Chad Dunlop, of course.
“Now you’re back in Jackson Hole to stay.”
Betsy nodded. “Shortly after my mother died, my great-aunt passed away and left me her house. Once the furnace is repaired and the city says it’s safe for me to occupy, I’ll move in.”
“The place sounds like a real gem.”
Another woman might have taken offense, but Betsy simply laughed. “It’s definitely a fixer-upper, that’s for sure.”
Having a place to stay rent free—at least once she could move in—was a big plus. But to survive in Jackson Hole, Betsy needed a job. Lately she’d considered practicing saying “Do you want fries with that?” but she enjoyed being a legal assistant and was darn good at her job. Before she gave up on the hope of getting a position in her field, she had to know she’d left no stone unturned.
“You got a great recommendation from the Kansas firm.” Ryan offered an encouraging smile. “Tell me about your duties there.”
“They were a large, diverse practice. Initially I worked for one of the older partners who primarily practiced family law. He had a stroke and was out of the office for an extended period. During that time I helped several of the other partners, which gave me a wide range of experiences.”
Betsy described her duties in greater depths. There were so many interesting stories that she was halfway through the third example when she realized he was smiling at her.
She stopped and raised a hand to her face, praying she didn’t have a hot cocoa mustache or something equally horrifying. “Do I have something on my face? In my teeth?”
“No. Why?”
“You were looking at me so strangely.”
He cocked his head. “Was I?”
“You know you were.” If this was a regular interview, she’d never have challenged him. But this was Ryan.
“I’m just impressed by the breadth of your experience.”
Was that honest-to-goodness admiration she saw reflected in those gorgeous eyes? Before she could respond, a gruff voice filled the air.
“Who let you in the front door?”
Betsy looked up into the grinning face of Cole Lassiter. The owner of the Hill of Beans coffee empire and another of Ryan’s many friends from high school had a devilish gleam in his eyes.
“Don’t think I didn’t notice the timing, Lassiter,” Ryan shot back. “You wait until I pay and then you show up.”
Cole chuckled, grabbed a chair from a nearby table and sat down at the edge of the booth. He gave Betsy a curious glance. Since moving back, she’d seen Cole, his wife, Margaret, and son, Charlie, in church, but only from a distance.
He was a handsome man with thick dark hair and vivid blue eyes. He and Ryan looked a lot alike—so much so that back in high school, those who didn’t know them well would often mistake one for the other.
“Aren’t you going to introduce me?” Cole’s gaze lingered on Betsy.
“Are you blind?” The look on Ryan’s face would have been laughable at any other time. “It’s Betsy McGregor, Keenan’s little sister.”
Cole shook his head and gave a low whistle. “You were a girl the last time I saw you. Now look at you, all grown up and beautiful.”
Was that a scowl on Ryan’s face? Betsy simply laughed. All her brother’s friends had been blessed with an abundance of charm.
“Congratulations on marrying Margaret Fisher,” Betsy said. “I knew her younger sister better than I did her, but Margaret was always nice to me when I stopped over.”
“I’m a lucky man.” The look on Cole’s face told her he meant every word.
“She might not remember me, but be sure and tell her I said hello.”
“Oh, she’ll remember,” Cole said gallantly. His gaze shifted from Ryan to her, then back to Ryan again. “Are you...dating?”
“Goodness, no.” Betsy spoke quickly before Ryan had a chance to respond. Or heaven forbid, laugh. “I’m interviewing to be his legal assistant.”
Cole shifted his gaze to Ryan. “What happened to Caroline?”
“Her husband got a promotion. They’re leaving for Texas tomorrow.”
“Good for them,” Cole said pointedly. “Bad for you.”
“I was bummed.” Ryan shifted his gaze to her and smiled. “Until I received Betsy’s application.”
Was he saying... Betsy’s fingers stole to the medallion in her pocket.
Ryan saw the look of bald hope on her face. “The position is yours. If you want it.”
“Just like that?” Betsy’s voice shook with emotion. And were those tears in her eyes? “Aren’t you even going to check my references?”
She was a funny sort, all wide-eyed and serious. Ryan had never realized what pretty eyes she had, large and a curious shade of blue with specks of gold. Until she’d stumbled earlier and he’d pulled her close, he’d never realized she had such delectable curves either.
Of course, to him she’d always be Keenan’s little sister. The one who’d toddled after them and messed up their toy soldiers. The one who’d bravely stood up to those bullies who’d taunted her, asking if she was a whore and a drunk like her mother.
He leaned forward resting his arms on the table. “Just tell me you don’t have any deep dark secrets and we’re good.”
“Nope.” She shot him a blinding smile. “What you see is what you get.”
Beside him, Cole started to chuckle. Ryan kicked him before Betsy noticed.
What you see is what you get?
Ryan knew Cole’s mind had gone totally in the wrong direction. Betsy was his new legal assistant, not a potential lover. And perhaps, a friend. A guy couldn’t have too many friends.
He smiled and nodded. Yep, from what he’d seen so far, Betsy was the type of woman who’d make a great buddy.
Chapter Two
When Friday night rolled around, Ryan already had his evening planned. Meet some friends at Wally’s Place, toss back a few cold ones and play a game or two of darts. Then he overheard Betsy talking on the phone to Adrianna and learned there was a party at Michelle Kerns’s house that evening.
Ryan knew the young ob-gyn but not well enough to merit an invitation to her home. When he heard Adrianna was going to be there, his plans for the evening did a one-eighty. Somehow, someway, he would attend that party.
He made a few calls and within a matter of minutes, Mitzi Sanchez reluctantly agreed he could go with her. Mitzi was an orthopedic surgeon he’d dated a few times. As much as he enjoyed the feisty Latina’s company, the chemistry wasn’t there. Now they were simply good friends. Okay, that might be stretching it a bit.
Still, they were good-enough friends that he could tag along with her. Mitzi had made it clear that once they got to the party, he was on his own.
“Would you quit primping?” Mitzi said in a disgusted tone as they made their way up the walk to Michelle’s townhome. “I swear you’re worse than any girl.”
He finished adjusting the cuffs of his sweater. “I love you, too.”
She made a retching noise and rolled her eyes.
“Seriously, thanks for making me your plus-one tonight.” He glanced down at his black jeans and cowboy
boots. While the sweater under his jacket dressed up his party attire, he hoped he hadn’t gone too casual. Adrianna was a hard woman to impress, and he’d already blown several opportunities.
“You’re not my plus-one,” she said. “You’re some guy I’m dragging along because I didn’t have the sense to say no.”
That’s what Ryan liked about Mitzi. She told it as she saw it. It was a shame there was no chemistry between them, because not only was she a beautiful woman, she could also sing karaoke like a pro.
“I don’t know you,” he said as they reached the stoop. “Once you get me through the front door, that is.”
“You’ll owe me, Harcourt.” She brushed back a strand of brown hair that looked as if it had been streaked with peanut butter. Although part Argentinean and part Mexican, with her light hair and blue eyes Mitzi looked more Irish than Latina.
“The first time you get slapped with a malpractice suit, I’m your man.”
“What a pleasant thought.” She reached out to press the doorbell, but he gently pushed her arm down.
“Allow me.”
“Such a gentleman,” came the sarcastic reply.
“I aim to please,” he said just as the door opened.
Before she could object, Ryan placed an arm loosely around her shoulders. He half expected Mitzi to shrug it off or punch him in the side. Instead she gave a long-suffering sigh. “Michelle, I believe you know Ryan Harcourt.”
“Of course.” The hostess clasped his hand firmly in greeting. She was tall, with honey-colored hair and big blue eyes. “Welcome. We have wine and beer and snacks. Help yourself to whatever you want.”
Ryan wondered if that meant he could help himself to Adrianna.
He felt Mitzi’s eyes on him as he placed his coat in Michelle’s outstretched hand. For an uncanny moment he had the feeling he could read her mind.
“The answer is no,” Mitzi said as the hostess stepped away, leaving them alone.
“You don’t even know the question,” he protested.
“I have my suspicions.”
“Ryan,” a familiar voice behind him gasped. “Why didn’t you mention you were coming tonight?”
He turned to see Betsy standing in the hallway near what was obviously the kitchen, holding a glass of white wine. Like the hostess and most of the other women in the room, she wore jeans and a sweater suitable for the ski slopes.
She’d done something different with her hair. He narrowed his gaze. “You look nice.”
“You like it?” Pleasure ran through her words. She raised a hand to her hair that had been long and sleek during the day and now stopped at her shoulders and had a bunch of layers. “I got it cut after work.”
The new style emphasized her large eyes and made her cheekbones more pronounced. He realized suddenly that his friend’s sister—and his new employee—was a very attractive woman. “I do like it.”
Even if he hadn’t, the blinding smile she shot him would have been worth any lie. But it was the truth and he was glad he’d said it. Even after only three days in the office, he’d discovered Betsy responded best to positive reinforcement.
“Are you and Mitzi dating?” she asked, twisting the toe of her shoe into the hardwood.
Ryan glanced across the room where his “date” stood chatting with Benedict Campbell, one of the physicians in her practice. Even though Mitzi claimed to hate the man, she’d protested so much that Ryan suspected there were some red-hot sparks beneath that animosity.
“Nah,” he said. “She just didn’t want to come to the party alone, so I agreed to come with her.”
He glanced around the room. Smooth jazz was playing low in the background and the wine was being served in crystal glasses. Although everyone was dressed casually—practically a given in Jackson Hole—Ryan instantly knew that this wasn’t his kind of party. Although he’d gone back East for law school and had attended many elegant events, he was a country boy at heart. Give him a can of beer, a bowl of chips and football on the flat screen and he was happy.
“Who did you come with?” he asked Betsy politely. Not because he was particularly interested in who she was dating, but rather to pass the time while he searched the room for the woman he’d come to see.
“Oh, look, there’s Adrianna,” Betsy said.
Like a hunting dog that had just gotten a whiff of a delectable scent, Ryan stiffened. He forced a casual smile to his lips. “I haven’t seen Adrianna in months. I bet I wouldn’t even recognize her.”
Even as he said the words, Ryan had to stifle a smile. As if he’d ever forget even the minutest detail about anything to do with Adrianna.
“Oh, I’m sure you would,” Betsy said with great earnestness. “She looks the same. The stylist tried to get her to do something different, but you know Adrianna. She dug in those heels and refused to let him touch her hair.”
“Her hair is beautiful,” Ryan said without thinking. “It would have been a shame to cut it.”
“Ryan agrees with you,” Betsy said and he shifted his gaze to see Adrianna standing there.
“Really.” Adrianna’s cool green eyes settled on him. “About what?”
“About cutting your hair,” Betsy said, seemingly oblivious to the sudden tension in the air. “He said why fool with perfection?”
Ryan didn’t remember saying those exact words, but it was a true sentiment nonetheless.
Adrianna didn’t appear impressed. In fact she was looking at him as if he was the lowest form of worm. Surely she wasn’t holding that one little prank all those years ago against him?
“Ryan is the best boss, Anna,” Betsy said, the words laden with sincerity. “I’m so glad I returned to Jackson Hole.”
“I’m certainly happy you’re back, Bets.” A warmth filled Adrianna’s voice and when she glanced at Ryan, some of the coolness in her eyes thawed. Apparently the nurse-midwife appreciated him more because he’d been good to her friend.
Ryan wondered if telling Adrianna that he’d given Betsy the afternoon off would give him extra points or make him look like a suck-up. He decided not to chance it. “I couldn’t believe it when Betsy showed up to interview, but I’m sure glad she did.”
From the continued thawing in Adrianna’s eyes, he was onto something here.
“Can I get you something to drink?” he asked, smiling at her. He would have included Betsy, but she already had a drink in her hand.
“I’m good.” Instead of meeting his gaze and letting him drown in those emerald-green depths, she glanced around the room. “There’s Travis and Mary Karen Fisher. I need to pop over and say hello.”
Ryan’s heart dropped as she started to walk away, her high-heeled boots clicking on the hardwood, her cute little derriere swaying in those tight-fitting jeans. But at the last minute, she glanced over her shoulder and flashed him a brilliant smile.
“You take care of Betsy,” she said in a low husky voice that conjured up images of rumpled sheets and entwined limbs. “See that she has a good time.”
“Anna,” Betsy moaned, but Ryan scarcely noticed.
How long had it been since Adrianna had smiled at him with such warmth? Years, he thought to himself, too many to count. She was clearly softening to him, which meant if he played his cards right, it wouldn’t be long until she was his.
Betsy stared at her friend’s retreating back and felt heat rise up her neck. The next time she got Adrianna alone, she was going to read her the riot act. Why, she’d practically thrown her at Ryan.
Not that he’d protested, she thought, looking for the silver lining. In fact he seemed in a remarkably good mood.
“Do you want to scope out the appetizers?” she asked. “Not that you have to go with me. Adrianna was just kidding. I don’t need anyone taking care of me.”
She was on the verge of saying more when she snapped her mouth shut. Men hated women who babbled, and right now she was poised to babble with the best of them.
“I’d like to check out the food.” Her h
eart skipped a beat when he held out his arm. “If I remember correctly the only thing you need to avoid is anything with shrimp.”
Betsy groaned. Honest to goodness groaned. “Of all the things to remember, you had to recall that?”
“It’s not every day I get to see a person covered in hives,” he said with a little too much enthusiasm for her liking. “You even had them on your—”
“Scalp,” she said. “Yes, I remember.”
“Keenan put that pink stuff all over your skin,” he said, warming to the memory. “It looked like Pepto-Bismol.”
“Don’t remind me.” She remembered that night well. Her mother had been out running around God knew where and Betsy had been hungry. She’d eaten some old shrimp rollups they’d had in the freezer. That’s when the hives had broken out. She’d been terrified, then relieved when Keenan had come home early.
But when she saw whom he was with, her terror had turned to horror. The last person she’d wanted to see her with those big red welts covering her skin was Ryan. But he hadn’t laughed or made fun of her. Instead he’d called his parents to find out what they should do.
While Keenan had helped smear the Caladryl lotion on her hard-to-reach places, Ryan had run to the corner store and gotten an antihistamine for her to take. By the time her mother finally dragged herself through the front door at 3:00 a.m., the hives had already started to fade.
“Hey.” He leaned closer, a teasing glint in his eyes. “How many men can say they’ve seen you at your worst?”
“Ha, ha.” Betsy was thankful her voice came out all casual and offhand, which was a real feat considering her knees had gone boneless and she was having difficulty thinking with him so near.
He sat back and his gaze zeroed in on a large buffet table at the back of the great room. A pristine white linen cloth with scalloped edges covered the oak top, but it appeared to be the food which had captured Ryan’s attention.
“Is that—” he turned to her, his eyes wide and guileless “—shrimp cocktail? I could get you one. Maybe you’re not allergic anymore.”