Her smile was nothing short of wicked. Obviously she knew she was getting to him, but that seemed only to fuel her fire. And his, for that matter. For a moment he fought the urge to close the distance between them and show her exactly how easy things between them could be, but somewhere in the fog of his lust-hazy brain, he knew that would only muddy the waters between them.
Especially since he was already keeping a secret from her. If things became intimate between them—and God knew it was taking every ounce of restraint he could muster to not cross that line—he would have to tell her about what he’d witnessed as he’d arrived.
Or would he?
Hell, his brain was so fried with want right now, he didn’t even know. The only way around it was to get out now.
He took a symbolic step back from her.
“I have a feeling Steffi-Anne is not going to go very easy on us if we hold up her race,” he said. “She seems to have us on a tight schedule. Why don’t we get over there now?”
Just as he’d predicted, Steffi-Anne was in a mood and she looked disheveled and frazzled, as if she was just about at her wit’s end. She’d pulled her straight blond hair back into a haphazard ponytail and her yellow blouse had a dirty smudge on it. From this angle, the harsh daylight and the scowl on her face aged her about ten years.
“Yes. Let’s go.”
Zoe moved closer to him and pressed her pretty, tanned leg flush against his so that they were hip to hip. Well, they were in a sense. She was so petite that her hip hit his body in the upper thigh region. He loved how utterly un-self-conscious she was about invading his personal space. But the other good thing that came out of it was that he now knew for a fact that she seemed to fit perfectly under his arm. Just as if she belonged there.
And what her nicely tanned legs lacked in length they more than made up for in supple shapeliness. They looked strong and quite lovely, he thought as he bound the two of them together.
Being this close to her brought back the rush of awareness he’d felt earlier. He could smell her shampoo, something light and floral, and he could smell her soap—or maybe it was her perfume? Whatever it was, it was intoxicating and he wanted to lean down and bury his face in that sweet, delicate spot where her neck curved into her shoulder.
Being here with her like this, feeling how well she fit in his arms, was an unexpected surprise. Suddenly this team-building nonsense seemed a little more palatable.
Even though he knew getting involved with the boss’s daughter was not a wise idea, it didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy every single thing about being all tied up with Zoe Robinson. Win or lose.
* * *
It had been said the way a person danced revealed a lot about what kind of lover they would be. Zoe couldn’t help but wonder if the same rule applied to the way a couple’s bodies moved together and adapted to tests like the three-legged race and the water balloon toss. Because, if so, she and Joaquin were destined for greatness between the sheets.
They’d been beasts at the challenges that required them working together physically. Of course, it didn’t hurt at all that they had permission—no, they were required—to get into each other’s personal spaces and violate boundaries that were usually off-limits.
Could they please do team-building exercises every day?
Then again, if they did, Steffi-Anne would surely find some way to ensure she ended up paired with Joaquin.
Now that they were breaking for the barbecue lunch Cowboy Country was providing, Steffi-Anne was already weaseling her way back in to Joaquin’s company.
It had only been natural for Zoe and Joaquin to fall into the buffet line together since they’d been partners. After they got their food—pulled chicken and barbecued brisket with baked beans, coleslaw, potato salad and ice-cold glasses of sweet tea—they’d found two spots at a table.
Steffi-Anne filled her plate and brought her lunch over to the full table where Joaquin and Zoe were sitting with six other coworkers. Zoe was sitting next to Joaquin, who was on the end.
“Scooch, please,” she said, gently nudging Tracy from accounts receivable, on the opposite side of the table.
“There are plenty of places at the other tables,” said Tracy.
“Yes, but this is the only table in the shade.” Steffi-Anne had given the entire table the big, poor-me eyes and it had worked. Well, it had sent Tracy grumbling to another table where she could have more elbow room.
After Tracy left, Steffi-Anne zeroed in on Joaquin like a homing device.
“Aren’t you glad you came today?” Steffi-Anne said.
Joaquin smiled at Zoe. “Actually, I am. I’m having a lot of fun.”
The way he looked at her made Zoe’s heart perform a quickstep.
“I’ve been dying to go ride the Twin Rattlers Roller Coaster,” Steffi-Anne said. “I’ve been waiting for that all day.”
“I’ve been looking forward to the funnel cakes,” Zoe said. “I love them so much.”
Steffi-Anne looked at her as if she’d just said she was going to go eat a bucket of fish heads.
“God, Zoe, funnel cakes are pure fat. Fat, carbs and sugar,” she said. “You’re young now, sweetheart, but if you keep eating things like that, you’ll regret it sooner than you think.”
Since when had eating a funnel cake become a capital offense?
“I enjoy the occasional one,” she said. “One every five years won’t hurt anything.”
“Suit yourself.” Steffi-Anne shrugged, her gaze scanning the picnic area. “Oh, Zoe, look. There’s Ron Lowell. Didn’t the two of you used to date? He’s kind of cute in a bookish sort of way.”
“We went out a couple of times,” Zoe said, thrown by the non sequitur. “He’s a nice guy, but it was nothing serious.”
“Who are you dating now?” Steffi-Anne pressed.
“No one.”
“I thought you had a boyfriend,” she said.
“No, I’m completely free.”
The way Steffi-Anne was moving the food around on her plate instead of eating it made Zoe think of a witch at her cauldron. At any moment she might pull out a poison apple and lob it at her because it was much healthier than a funnel cake.
“I’m surprised you don’t have someone special by now,” she continued. “You’ve dated a lot of really nice guys. Like Jake over there and George Simpson from marketing.”
She pointed with her fork.
“And why didn’t things work out with Frank? I thought you two looked especially cute together.” Steffi-Anne turned her attention back to Joaquin. “I’m not saying this girl gets around. She’s just very popular in the office. Joaquin, if you’re interested, you’d better take a number.”
Okay, so that was her game. Zoe had always known that Steffi-Anne was the queen of the backhanded compliments, but she’d never pegged her as a mean girl. Then again, she’d never gone head-to-head with her over a man.
“That’s what dating is for,” Zoe said, “trying out potential relationships, seeing how they fit. If they don’t, there’s no use in prolonging them.”
Since the day Zoe had started working for her father at Robinson Tech, she’d made a point of not playing the daddy’s-girl card. She realized, by virtue of birth, she’d been born with some privileges. She was deeply grateful for her blessings, and she didn’t want to get the reputation that the only reason she’d gotten ahead at work was because she was the founder’s daughter. It was important that she got her jobs and any promotions on the merit of her knowledge and expertise, because she was the best person for the job. Not through nepotism. She never wanted to come across as entitled. That’s why she worked hard and went out of her way to be extra nice to people.
But sometimes when people like Steffi-Anne knew she wouldn’t fight back, they tended to push her more than they would someone who would put th
em in their place.
Today, Steffi-Anne was hitting extra hard and low. Zoe wasn’t about to get into a catfight with her, and she seemed to be spoiling for exactly that. Zoe really thought the woman was more professional than that. But she was dishing it out, and the others at the table looked eager to feast on a huge helping of juicy drama.
Zoe hadn’t finished her lunch, but she’d lost her appetite. Maybe the best thing she could do would be to go get that funnel cake and enjoy every fat-laden bite. Part of her hated to leave Joaquin in Steffi-Anne’s clutches, but if he sat back and allowed himself to be clutched, then maybe he wasn’t the guy for her, after all. Better to find out now. Her heart sank at the thought.
Zoe tossed her napkin on her plate, stood and gathered the rest of her garbage. “I think I’m going to go get that funnel cake now.”
To her surprise Joaquin stood, too. “I’m not surprised Zoe’s popular. She’s got a lot going for her. A guy would be lucky to get a date with her.”
He turned to Zoe. “I’d love a funnel cake. May I join you?”
Zoe stopped at the garbage can to dispose of her trash. She took a deep breath and tried to shake off the sting of Steffi-Anne’s words. Swallowing the urge to fight back when someone came at her swinging wasn’t easy. It was human nature to want to defend oneself, but the perverse part was that doing so would’ve made her look just as bad as Steffi-Anne.
Joaquin must have read her mind because he tossed away his trash and said, “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
They walked in silence as they made their way toward the exit of the backstage area. But before they made it to the park, Zoe caught sight of her father and waved.
“Where are you two off to?” Gerald asked. He always came across so gruff, but Zoe knew he was a big softy on the inside. She wished more people knew him the way she did.
“We are going in search of funnel cakes.” Zoe planted a kiss on his cheek. “When did you get here?”
“I drove down last night,” Gerald said. “Had business to tend to.”
“Joaquin.” Gerald stuck out his hand and Joaquin gave it a firm shake.
“Hello, sir.”
Her father liked him. That scored Joaquin huge points in Zoe’s book. As if he needed extra ones.
It was another quality she could check off her potential Husband List. Suddenly things were looking a lot brighter than they had a moment ago.
“Is lunch over?” Gerald asked. “I wanted to say a few words to the staff.”
“No, the group is still over there,” Zoe said. “We’re just sneaking away a little early to get some dessert.”
“Good,” Gerald said. “I’m glad I didn’t miss it. I’ve been busy all morning. This is the soonest I could get away. I’ll let you two go and get on with your business. Joaquin, you take good care of her. She is my little girl.”
He sounded stern but Zoe knew he meant well. She liked the way Joaquin held up under his scrutiny.
Check.
“Yes, sir,” Joaquin said.
Her father gave a curt nod and walked away.
Once they’d stepped out from behind the fence and onto Main Street, Joaquin said, “Your dad is pretty protective.”
She wanted to say, Yes, but don’t let him scare you off.
“You know how fathers can be. Don’t you? Are you close to your family?”
Shrieks and whoops filled the air as log-shaped cars splashed down the final drop of the Gulch Holler Rapids water flume ride. The waterlogged merriment was set against the pow-pow-pow of pistols from the Main Street Shooting Gallery, which was located next door.
“We are pretty tight,” he said as they strolled past Gus’s General Store where a cute straw cowgirl hat caught Zoe’s eye. She decided to look at it later so as not to interrupt what Joaquin was saying. “I stayed with my dad last night and I will again tonight. After we’re finished here, I’m meeting him for dinner at the Coyote Steak House just outside the main gates.”
So, not only was the guy smart and gorgeous, but he was family oriented, too. Could he be any more perfect?
Check. Check. Check.
She had to resist closing her eyes to revel in the thought and the smell of funnel cakes cooking somewhere nearby.
“May I ask you a personal question?” Joaquin said.
Zoe’s heart leaped into her throat. She had to wait for it to settle back into her chest again before she could answer. Even then it beat a thrilling staccato.
“Sure. Ask me anything.” And she meant it.
He could ask her out.
He could ask her to marry him.
He could ask her to—
“Why do you let Steffi-Anne get away with acting like that?”
Oh. Except for that.
She had hoped that they’d left Steffi-Anne back at the pavilion. But here she was again, virtually elbowing her way between them like a ghost they couldn’t exorcize.
“I’m not letting her get away with anything,” Zoe said, making sure her voice was steady and matter-of-fact but not defensive. “I choose to not respond. Because when you react to a bully like her, you’re playing right into her hands. Don’t you see it? What she wants most is a reaction from me, and I’m not going to give it to her.”
Joaquin watched her intently as she spoke, nodding his head as though he agreed with her.
“Actually, getting a reaction out of me probably falls second to getting one out of you,” Zoe said. “Just sayin’. Because you know she wants you to ask her out.”
She was happy when he flinched, as if the suggestion was the furthest thing from his mind. And her heart nearly leaped out of her chest when he frowned and said, “That’s not going to happen. I’m not interested in Steffi-Anne.”
She wished she could’ve paused the moment—that perfect moment when she knew exactly where her nemesis stood with the man of her dreams—but he ruined the moment when he said, “I don’t date women I work with.”
Well, why the heck are you sending me mixed signals? Why did you sit with me at lunch, defend me to Steffi-Anne, make me want you in the worst way, when it was all for nothing?
But before she could respond or even mask her expression to make sure it didn’t expose the utter disappointment that had eclipsed all the joy she had been feeling a moment ago, a street performer dressed in period costume planted his feet in front of them. His big voice boomed, “Gather ’round, all ye good people. I do believe I have found the happy couple who will be the next victims—er—the next bride and groom I will unite in connubial bliss in the Cowboy Country Matrimonial Extraaaavaganza.”
Somehow the man, whom Zoe now realized was wearing a sash that read Honorable Justice D. Peace, managed to hook his arms through Zoe’s on the right and Joaquin’s on the left and herd them toward a small stage raised about ten inches off the ground.
“What in the world—?” Zoe asked.
“Does our beautiful, blushing bride have cold feet? Please tell me I am mistaken. Honey, your groom looks bucking ready to go. I think he has the wedding night on his mind.”
As he made a couple more jokes, a player–pipe organ started churning out a dramatic version of the “Wedding March.” A woman dressed in period costume with a sash that read Matchmaker made an overblown show of fawning over Zoe and Joaquin. She shoved a wispy tulle veil onto Zoe’s head, placed a bouquet of tattered-looking flowers in her hands and thrust a tall top hat at Joaquin.
The music and the fuss the performers were making over them drew a crowd.
“Oh, my gosh,” Zoe said. “Like it or not, I guess we’re part of the show.”
“You only live once.” Joaquin shrugged and placed the top hat on his head at a cocky angle, playing the good sport. “I said I don’t date coworkers. I didn’t say anything about not marrying them.�
�
Chapter Five
The best souvenir that Zoe was taking home from Cowboy Country was being pronounced Joaquin’s pretend wife. Even though the marriage wasn’t real—obviously—for a few fabulous hours, it was fun to pretend she was his wife and they were on their honeymoon in Cowboy Country.
She even had the gaudy plastic ring on her left hand to prove it.
It was so romantic, in a kitschy-fun sort of way. Joaquin had been a great sport, playing along and even hamming it up a little bit. It was a side of him she’d never seen before.
As she waited in line to get on the charter bus that would take everyone back to Austin, her thumb found the back of the band. Joaquin had seemed pretty firm about not dating someone he worked with. But he had said that marriage was not out of the question. Okay, so that statement was as pretend as the plastic ring on her finger. It didn’t change her feelings for him; if anything, it made her desire him more. It was evident to everyone else who was paying attention that Steffi-Anne was his for the taking. And there were also a dozen or so other women in the office interested in him. At least they’d had the good grace not to be so obvious.
But he didn’t seem to be out for what he could get. That was a very attractive quality in a man. So was him having the good sense to know that office romances could get sticky. That’s why Zoe was willing to take things slowly. As Steffi-Anne had so gleefully pointed out, Zoe had had her share of office romances that fizzled out for one reason or the other. She’d loved what Joaquin had said at lunch about it being okay to have dated a lot of guys. He was right. How would she ever find her prince if she didn’t kiss a few toads along the way?
“Did you have fun, Zoe?” Steffi-Ann asked through her Cheshire cat grin as she checked in Zoe, ticking her name off the passenger roster.
“I had a great time, thank you,” Zoe said, infusing a smile into her voice, determined to kill her with kindness. “Look at this cute cowgirl hat I bought.”
As Zoe reached for the package, she realized her wristlet that held her phone, her credit cards and all her money wasn’t on her arm. She looked in her bags and patted herself down, but it wasn’t there.
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