“However you want to spin it, Red. You do that.”
His fiery sister-in-law growled, right up until his brother stalked up to her, pulled her close and whispered loud enough for Colt to hear, “God, I love making you mad.”
Colton blinked. Then he frowned. Then he shook his head.
Just because he liked making the Ozark woman mad didn’t mean he had anything in common with his brother.
What he was doing with Ashley was a stunt. A game.
And if he also got a little turned on by making The Righteous Sister mad, it meant nothing at all.
* * *
ASHLEY WAS PLEASED with the pictures she’d gotten of the parade. She scrolled through them for the third time, the marching bands, the brightly colored floats. The cowboys. She enlarged a few, but Colton wasn’t in any of them. After transferring her favorite images to a folder on her computer’s desktop, she sat back in her chair and rubbed her stomach. It had been feeling funny all day. Probably something she ate.
The doorbell sounded, and she unplugged her camera from her computer and went to the door. Jasmine was standing there, wearing a cute Western-style top that sat low on her shoulders and a denim skirt. Instead of the customary cowboy boots everyone else would be wearing, she was wearing sandals, showing off her professional pedicure.
“You ready?”
“Sure. C’mon in while I grab my stuff.”
Jasmine followed her through her father’s house to her bedroom.
“Seriously,” Jasmine said. “Your room is exactly the same. God, I wish my parents had stayed here in Half Moon. Their place in Denver just doesn’t feel like home when I go there.”
After graduating from college last year, Ash had come back to live with her father. It only made sense while she saved up money to leave again. Glancing around the room she’d grown up in, she now saw it through Jasmine’s eyes. While she hadn’t bothered to change it because she told herself she wasn’t staying long enough to go to the trouble, she now decided it wouldn’t hurt to replace the posters on the wall with some of her own work. Maybe repaint, too. In fact, she’d stop by the thrift shop on Main and see if she could find a few new-to-her accents to spruce the place up a bit.
Draping her camera bag over her shoulder, she caught a glimpse of herself and Jasmine in the full-length mirror beside her door. Jasmine looking sophisticated and mature. Ashley? Well, she fit in perfectly with her old bedroom: looking like she was exactly the same girl she’d been in high school.
“Maybe I’ll change,” she said on a whim.
“Do you want help picking something out?” Jazz asked eagerly.
Ash opened her closet and sighed. “If you want. There aren’t a lot of options, though.”
Rifling through the limited clothes in Ashley’s closet, Jasmine picked out a checked top and an old pair of jeans. The choices weren’t much better than what Ashley was currently wearing, and she said so.
“Do you have scissors?”
“Yeah, why?”
“These just need a few alterations.” After Ashley passed Jazz the scissors from her desk, Jasmine quickly cut the arms off the shirt and handed it to her. “Put this on.” While Ash buttoned up the shirt, Jazz went to work, chopping the legs off the jeans. It happened so quick, Ash didn’t have a chance to stop her and tell her those were her second favorite pair.
“Now these.”
Ashley wriggled out of the jeans she was wearing and slid the shorts up her legs. She checked her image in the mirror. She looked ridiculous. The shirt hung over the too-short shorts, making it look like she wasn’t wearing anything underneath. “I think they’re too short and the—”
“I’m not done.” Jasmine interrupted. Using her manicured nails, she distressed the bottom of the shorts, created a fringe of denim. “You have amazing legs. You need to show them off.”
“I don’t know,” Ash said hesitantly, thinking the shorts were something Brandi would be more likely to wear.
“The shorts aren’t too short. The shirt is too long.”
Snip. Snip.
Before Ash could stop her, Jasmine had begun to chop off the bottom of the shirt. Once she was done, she removed all buttons from her navel down.
“Now, we just tie this in front like this.” She tied the two ends of material and turned Ashley toward the mirror. “Look at your stomach. People would kill to have a flat stomach like yours.” Jasmine smiled at their reflections. “I think this is exactly the kind of outfit that Colton would like, don’t you?”
“Do you think?”
“Uh, yeah. Watching him last night? He seems like a...manly man, you know?”
No, Ash did not know. Though a flashback from when Colton backed her up against the outside of the hotel made her catch her breath and warmed her skin. He’d certainly seemed manly then.
Jasmine reached around and unbuttoned another button so that the top of Ashley’s bra was visible. “He’s the kind of man that appreciates it when a woman looks like a woman.” She grinned. “And this should do it.”
Ashley gazed at her reflection. Did she want to tempt a guy like Colton?
Her sister’s snide remark rang between her ears: What the hell are you doing with Colton Cross?... I can tell when someone’s getting some. You—my uptight little sister—are not getting any.
Who said she wanted anything from Colton Cross? She didn’t. But was there anything wrong with wanting people to think that she could tempt a cocky bull rider like Colton Cross?
Nope. Nothing wrong at all.
With shoulders back, Ash led the way to the front door.
Time to find the cowboy and enact a little simulated seduction.
However, once she and Jasmine arrived at the fairgrounds, Ashley forgot all about Colton. Or, nearly. He was like a morning coffee, long gone but the flavor still subtly lingering hours later.
She was too busy taking pictures of the grounds, the vendors, the contestants, the kids and games and food booths, while listening to Jasmine catch her up on the last five years of her life.
“I worked for a few years in my uncle’s law firm. It was okay, mostly administrative stuff. But I kept taking classes in the evenings.”
Ash focused the lens, zoomed in and focused again. A child’s face, crumpled, about to cry as his balloon slipped out of his fingers.
Click.
“What kind of classes?” Ash asked, letting the camera dangle from around her neck as they wandered past the chili tasting booths. “Law? You thinking about law school?”
Jasmine snorted. “No. I’m not you.” She sniffed. “Aesthetics. Hair. Laser. Makeup. You know. Beauty school stuff.”
Ashley glanced sideways at her friend. Jasmine had never got the kind of marks that she had in high school. But she was smart; she’d just spent more time on her wardrobe than on her studies. “You could be a lawyer if you wanted, you know.”
“Doesn’t matter. I don’t need to work.”
Ash stopped and looked at her friend. “Why not?”
A weird smile crossed Jazz’s face. “Parker’s loaded. You should see our place in Chicago.” She grabbed Ash’s hands. “In fact, you should come visit. No. You have to come. You’re going to be my maid of honor.”
Typical. Jasmine hadn’t asked Ash. She’d just decided. Ash both resented and envied that in her friend.
“So, tell me about Parker.”
“Oh, you have to meet him. He’s so...suave. Elegant. You know? He’s like Mr. GQ. Or something.”
Ash used the camera as a means to tune out her friend and her recitation of her perfect life. She wanted to be happy for her, she really, really did. But sometimes it was just so hard when Ashley’s own life felt so insignificant and provincial beside her friend’s.
Holding the camera in front of h
er face, she stopped just outside the rodeo grounds, taking a picture of four cowboys heading through the gates: three black hats, one white, Western shirts, bowlegged gaits, their worn jeans fitting perfectly.
Say what you want about cowboys, but rodeo boys had seriously nice asses.
Click.
“Excuse me, have you seen a little boy? Four years old, blond hair, Superman shirt, green balloon?”
Ashley lowered her camera. A woman she didn’t recognize stood there with a baby in her arms and a worried expression on her face.
“I don’t think so. What’s his name?” Jasmine asked.
“Noah.”
Ashley scrolled through the images on her camera, finding the one with the child and the balloon. Sure enough, the boy was wearing a Superman shirt. She showed it to the woman.
“Yes. That’s him. Where was he?”
“Over by the ring toss. Maybe ten, fifteen minutes ago.”
“Thank you.” The woman hurried off.
Ash checked her watch. The opening ceremony for the rodeo would be starting in five minutes. She was supposed to get pictures. She hesitated. “Maybe we should go give her a hand.”
“I’ll go,” Jasmine offered. “You go on in. I’ll meet up with you later.”
“Thanks, Jazz.”
Jazz took off after the young mom, walking briskly to catch up. A stingy something-or-other reverberated inside Ashley’s chest. How was it possible to both like someone so much but also resent them, too? Jasmine was her best friend, and Ash—well, she just had to say it—she was jealous of her. Thoroughly, bitterly jealous.
Always had been.
With a shake of her head, she entered the rodeo grounds, showing her press pass to the ticket takers at the door. And what does she do about her juvenile jealousy? Does she own up to it? Oh, no. She goes and makes up a boyfriend to deal with it. Stupid.
“Ash, up here.”
As the chair of the Fair Committee, her father was sitting on the stage behind the announcer’s podium. Ash climbed up to join him.
“This’ll be the best spot for the opening ceremonies.” He checked his watch. “You were cutting it close. It’s starting right away.”
“Then I’d say I was just on time.” She took a quick pic of her father and the other board members, all wearing white hats. Then got a picture of the announcer, Hal Roberts, just as he welcomed everyone to the kickoff of the rodeo.
The opening procession commenced with the flag bearers on horseback, carrying the county, state and American flags. The rodeo princesses followed, then judges and competitors until the ring was filled with people on horses, stomping impatiently, picking up on the nerves of the competitors.
Before the national anthem could begin, there was a commotion just below the announcer’s table.
Shit!
A little boy wearing a Superman shirt had slipped between the bars separating the ring from the stands and was now walking among the legs of the already nervous horses. His face was red, and he was crying loudly.
Hal’s voice rose in a panic. “There’s a young child in the ring. Can everyone please remain—”
Before he could finish, a cowboy slid down from his horse, jogged over to the kid and scooped him up. He carried him toward the stage and handed him over to Hal, saying, “You’re okay, kid. Everything’s fine.”
That’s when Ashley realized two things.
First, she’d been on automatic pilot, watching the entire thing unfold from behind the lens of her camera, capturing the scene, frame by frame.
Secondly, and more importantly, it had been Colton Cross who’d jumped down to save the kid.
4
WHILE THE COMMOTION settled down after the boy’s panicky mother hurried onstage to collect her son, Colton glanced up to find Ashley Ozark—his pseudo girlfriend—staring at him, her camera pulled close to her chest like she was protecting it from stampeding hooves. He beckoned her closer.
Hesitantly, she moved forward, hunkering down at the front of the stage. “Yes?”
He grabbed the front of her shirt and pulled her in for a kiss. Possessing her mouth. The little gasp she made was rather satisfying, he had to admit.
“What was that for?” she whispered breathlessly.
His gaze flicked to the left side of the stage, where her friend was watching. “Just putting on a show, as commanded.”
“Is that what all of this was?” She indicated the ring and the crying child with a sweep of her hand. “A show?”
Colton frowned. “No. The kid was about to be trampled, that was instinct. The kiss was for show.” Though he’d be a liar if he said there wasn’t a certain amount of instinct involved in wanting to kiss the uptight Ozark sister, as well. Though she was looking a little less uptight in her short shorts and tiny top.
“Okay.” She pulled back, smiling awkwardly. “That should do it.”
“Really? See, I’m not so sure.”
“What do you—”
He yanked her down for another kiss. It was fun shutting her up with kisses. Partly because he wanted to teach her a lesson for thinking she had control of him, but mostly because the second their lips met, hers gave in: softening right up and parting for his tongue. Her lips meshed with his in a deliciously juicy way.
“Okay, okay,” she panted against his mouth.
Colton grinned.
This time he let her pull away. She stood, crossing her arms in front of her belly, which was too bad because the little shirt she was wearing showed off her tummy, all nice and trim with the cutest little belly button. He wouldn’t mind tracing that sweet little navel with his tongue later...
Whoa. Where had that come from?
“What time is your ride?”
“Three.”
“Good luck.”
“Thanks.” Colton rubbed the back of his head. Maybe he was taking this fake boyfriend thing too far. “You gonna watch?”
She raised the camera. “I’m paid to watch.”
“What time are you done?”
“Five.”
“Okay. Meet me by the gate to the stockyard at five-fifteen.” He stretched his back. “Then you can show me how much you appreciate me.”
Her gaze narrowed.
He saluted. “Later, babe.” Colton said the last part extra loud so that the friend would hear.
There. He’d done his part. Now he could go concentrate on his ride. Later he’d see if the Ozark girl would make good on her end of the bargain.
* * *
OF ALL THE harebrained schemes, this one had to be the worst. Colton Cross had just made sure everyone in Half Moon Creek saw them making out. At the announcer’s stage, no less. And he’d done it after heroically saving a kid from being trampled by horses. Though whether he’d done it to be a good man or whether he’d done it to make himself look good, Ashley couldn’t decide.
Probably the latter.
“Thank God for Colton,” Jasmine said from behind her.
Ash didn’t turn. Instead, she watched as Colton leisurely jogged back to his horse. He grabbed the reins before gracefully swinging up onto the animal’s back, and as he rode past, he tipped his hat to her.
Heat climbed from the pit of her stomach and up her throat. A fake boyfriend was not supposed to have such an effect on her. She stumbled to her seat beside her father and sat down, pretending to fiddle with her camera.
“So, you and Cross?” he asked gruffly.
She mumbled something that was somewhat of an assertion.
“You could do worse.”
Out of the corner of her eyes, she snuck a glance at her father. Was it possible he was actually in favor of a relationship with Colton?
Nah.
The opening ceremonies
came to a close, and the first event—barrel racing—began. Ashley turned her attention from Colton and focused on the task at hand, capturing as many images as she could. Time operated on a different wavelength when she was behind the camera, so she was barely aware of the fact that Jasmine had stayed as long as she had, watching the show.
When there was a break between events, Jasmine explained—with a knowing smirk—that she wanted to see the riding events, the bull riding in particular. Just the mention of it brought Colton to mind and had Ashley’s stomach in knots because, well...
She wasn’t exactly sure why.
It was probably the unknown payment for services rendered.
The man had gone above and beyond to act like her boyfriend. What exactly would he expect for it?
Time both seemed to inch by and simultaneously move at warp speed, and before Ash knew it, the bull-riding event was next on the schedule. Colt was the fifth rider, and the queasiness in her stomach intensified, culminating in a nauseous feeling when Hal called Colton’s name as the next contestant.
He’s just like all the rest. Just take pictures like he’s everyone else.
Bolstering herself with a deep breath, Ash focused on the gate, snapping shots of the cowboy in question as he wrapped the rope around his right hand in preparation for the ride. The bull he sat astride was a massive yellowish beast, so ready to buck it was slamming against the gate before it even opened.
The horn sounded. The gate opened. The bull took off, jumping and spinning, kicking and bucking in a way that was completely unnatural for an animal its size.
Click. Click. Click.
Ash followed the movement of man and beast as they danced violently around the ring for what seemed like an eternity.
The eight-second horn blew, an outrider rode up, divesting the animal of the flank strap, and Colton hopped off. Even without the strap, the bull was angry, and seeing Colton in the ring—the man who’d been foolish enough to try to ride him—enraged the bull even more. At least, that’s what it looked like to Ash. Her thoughts were confirmed when the thing charged, and Colton ran for the gate.
Wild Seduction Page 4