The Perfect Solution

by Day Leclaire

  The Lost Springs Ranch for troubled boys is at stake, and it’s a man’s duty to give back...

  So there’s going to be an auction!

  Bachelor #10

  Name: Flynn Morgan

  Occupation: Security expert

  Biggest Achievement: Sticking to the straight and narrow

  Flynn Morgan’s weakness is damsels in distress, and Jane Dearly is that. Not only does she need his security services, she needs a man to drag her away from her laboratory now and then. Her guardians decide he’ll make the perfect birthday gift, but Jane is more interested in Flynn as a subject for her latest experiments with…love potions!

  Dear Reader,

  We just knew you wouldn’t want to miss the news event that has all of Wyoming abuzz! There’s a herd of eligible bachelors on their way to Lightning Creek—and they’re all for sale.

  Cowboy, park ranger, rancher, P.I.—they all grew up at Lost Springs Ranch, and every one of these mavericks has his price, so long as the money’s going to help keep Lost Springs afloat.

  The auction is about to begin.… Young and old, every woman in the state wants in on the action, so pony up some cash and join the fun. The man of your dreams might just be up for grabs!

  Marsha Zinberg

  Editorial Coordinator, Heart of the West

  A Note from the Author

  What a fun book this was to write! I loved the premise, adored the characters and was delighted to participate in the Heart of the West series.

  The idea for the heroine, Jane, came to me while watching my son. Yeah, I know. Weird. What I really mean is that Matt recently discovered chemistry, and he became instantly obsessed. The world could grind to a halt and there Matt would be, in his school lab, glued to a microscope. My heroine, Jane, is every bit as single-minded. She also needs a strong man to complement her. Heck, she needs a strong man to drag her away from her lab!

  Enter Flynn Morgan. He’s irreverent, obsessed with Jane and has overcome a tough past. He’s the perfect one to bring romance into her life—though it takes a while for him to realize that fact.

  I hope you’ll enjoy Jane and Flynn’s story, as well as

  all the stories in this series.

  All the best,

  Day Leclaire

  Many thanks to Dr. Joseph Gardella,

  Professor of Chemistry at the University of Buffalo. He generously offered his time and expertise and was of immense help (as well as being a really nice guy). Many thanks, also, to Dr. George Preti of the

  Monell Chemical Senses Center.

  Any lab or pheromone errors are strictly my own.

  Contents

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  PROLOGUE

  Lost Springs Ranch for Boys outside of

  Lightning Creek, Wyoming

  “CAN’T BELIEVE YOU SHOWED UP,” Zeke Lonetree said.

  Flynn Morgan flashed that grin, which either charmed the hell out of people or got him in more hot water than he could handle. “Can’t hardly believe it myself,” he drawled.

  Once upon a time, he wouldn’t have made an appearance at the Lost Springs bachelor auction, in spite of his promise and regardless of the fact that Lost Springs Ranch had been his home, along with all the other lost boys, after his parents abandoned him. He would have stood them up. When the time came, he would have conveniently forgotten—an accident of deliberation that wouldn’t have surprised those running the event one little bit. A few years ago, he wouldn’t have given it a passing thought. He’d have done it. Period.

  But at some point between then and now, all that had changed. He’d changed. He grinned, his mouth pulling to one side. And he continued to change. The latest growth spurt was thanks to a painful right hook from his business partner, Paulie. Flynn rubbed the bruise that still darkened the side of his face and winced. Damn, that man could hit.

  What had his partner said that had been so helpful? Oh, right.

  “You’re dead, Morgan!”

  A fist had followed on the heels of Paulie’s declaration. Flynn couldn’t even claim it caught him by surprise, mainly because it didn’t surprise him. Not only had he expected the blow, he deserved it. Maybe he should have ducked. He could have. But something had made him stand there and take it on the chin. Or in this case, on the side of the mouth.

  He’d needed a minute to recover enough to attempt a cocky grin. “Paulie. Something got your shorts in a twist?” That had earned him a second fist, one he’d ducked. Hell, he wasn’t a total moron, just an idiot.

  “You had to help her out, didn’t you?” his partner had ranted. “Despite what we’d agreed, despite the background check I ran, and despite the fact that your brains seep into your pants whenever there’s a woman in trouble around.”

  “What can I say?” Flynn retorted with a shrug. “I’m a sucker for a damsel in distress.”

  “I warned you getting involved with her was a mistake. It was all a scam to entrap her husband, and you—” Paulie jabbed his index finger into Flynn’s chest. “You of all people fell for it like some ignorant, peach-fuzzed, apple-cheeked mark fresh off the bus. We’re supposed to install security systems, Flynn, not help disgruntled wives exact revenge on wayward husbands.”

  “Aw, hell, Paulie. I didn’t know what she’d planned. And she cried.”

  “Yeah? Well next time some dame starts up the waterworks, you just remember I have another right hook waitin’ for you. Got it, Morgan?”

  Of course, that wasn’t the only painful experience he’d recently suffered. Returning to Lost Springs Ranch had proved almost as bad as Paulie’s fist. There were too many unfortunate memories and too many wary faces. Faces who remembered him, remembered the scamming, sassy-mouthed asshole he’d once been. How did you explain that the boy they’d known was nothing like the man he’d become, especially when it had taken so many years to achieve that change?

  Flynn took a vacant chair in the line of bachelors waiting to be sold and slouched down, his gaze wandering over the others, automatically pigeonholing them. It was an occupational hazard, one he couldn’t quite seem to get past. He sighed. Maybe he should get out of the security business. He’d spent his entire life reading people, figuring out what they wanted in order to see where they fit in the general scheme of things and how that scheme involved him. He’d made a living reading people. He’d also come within an inch of destroying his life thanks to that particular talent. And he’d disappointed more people than he could count, including a few he’d bumped into, right here at Lost Springs.

  There’d been puny Robbie Carter, not so puny anymore, now bought and paid for by a couple of little old ladies. What had Carter become? A doctor? Figured.

  Then there was that snot-nosed kid, Shane Daniels, now a hotshot rodeo star. His was the next head to roll on the auction block.

  Then there was Zeke. Flynn had once scammed the kid out of twenty bucks. Hell, Zeke hadn’t even caught on, he’d been such an innocent. But Flynn remembered. And for the first time in his entire life, it weighed on him. Damn it to hell! Life changes sucked right up there with tax audits, crooked lawyers and humorless judges who thought a little innocent fun deserved the death penalty.

  He drummed the arm of his chair for a full five minutes, trying to convince himself that life changes did not necessitate atonement for sins committed. After all, th
e past was the past.

  He wasn’t convinced. Giving in to the inevitable, he leaned forward and offered his hand to the man he’d scammed.

  Zeke eyed him with deep suspicion.

  “Feel free to count your fingers afterward,” Flynn offered. “I promise, they’ll all still be there.”

  Zeke reluctantly returned the handshake, staring in surprise at the twenty dollar bill that lined his palm afterward. “What’s this for?”

  “Owed it to you.” Flynn shrugged, not cutting himself any slack. “I took it off you years ago when you didn’t know better than to trust me. Thought it was about time I paid you back.”

  Zeke’s brows drew together. “Can’t say as I remember.”

  “I remember.”

  Comprehension dawned. “Got it.” Zeke grinned. “Thanks, Flynn.”

  It was a small gesture, but one that made him feel better, one in a long string of gestures to help even out a very lopsided scale. After he’d fulfilled his obligation to Lost Springs he’d have plenty of time to contemplate the latest error of his ways—an error that had been punctuated by Paulie’s right fist.

  “Morgan! Didn’t you hear me? Flynn? You’re up.”

  Flynn got to his feet with a sigh. He was dreading this next part. Some wide-eyed, dewy-mouthed woman would buy him. She’d want a weekend of romance. Dinner. Dancing. Sweet, meaningless conversation. Hell, with his reputation, she might even expect more. After recent events, he didn’t think he could handle that. Paulie’s fist had proved a potent deterrent.

  Following the whispered directions, he stepped forward, surprised by the number of people in the audience. Most of them were women, and a few feminine shrieks rang out as he stood for their inspection, like a bull up for stud.

  “This is Flynn Morgan,” the auctioneer announced, checking his clipboard. “And it says here he’s a partner in a home-and-business security firm. Hey, folks. That’s quite a deal you could have here. Need advice on keeping your valuables secure? Flynn’s your man.”

  “Just keep your women locked up!” someone shouted from the audience.

  “Sorry, friend,” Flynn hollered back. “There isn’t a lock I can’t pick. Especially if there’s a woman on the other side.”

  Laughter followed, and once it died the auctioneer resumed. “Flynn’s thirty-four, and when asked about his ideal woman, he claims there’s not a woman born he hasn’t taken a shine to.”

  “Now, that I’d believe,” came another voice from the audience. If Flynn didn’t know better, he’d swear it was his fourth-grade teacher. Back then, he’d been a bit more obvious in his affections. Before he’d learned better. “And they shine right back.”

  The auctioneer grinned at that. “I guess that means you can find Flynn wherever there’s trouble abrewin’ or a woman in need.”

  “And where there’s one, there’s usually the other,” Flynn joked. “But what’s a man to do? I go where I’m needed.”

  “And he was needed right here tonight and we appreciate his helpin’ us out. Flynn says his greatest achievement is sticking to the straight and narrow, even when that straight and narrow wobbles a bit. If he were to describe himself in five words, he’d say...” He checked his notes again. “He’d say he’s a changed man.”

  “Hey, Morgan. That’s only four words,” Zeke joked.

  “So it is.” Flynn rubbed a hand across his jaw and came up against his bruise. “In that case, make it a forcibly changed man.”

  That drew more laughter and the auctioneer held his clipboard in the air. “So, ladies, what am I offered for this forcibly changed man? Any bids to start us off?”

  Determined to give the ranch their money’s worth, Flynn flashed his patented grin. Slowly, he unbuttoned his jacket and shrugged out of it. His small act met with instant approval, whistles joining the feminine shouts. Aw, what the hell? It was for a good cause, right? He reached for his tie and yanked at the knot, sliding the silk from beneath his collar. Balling it up, he tossed it into the crowd. It ribboned into the audience and disappeared from view beneath a bevy of eager young women. Next, he flicked his shirt buttons through the holes, one by one, until he reached the belt of his trousers. The shirt gaped.

  “Take it off!” someone shrieked.

  His grin widened and he whipped the tails out of his trousers. Maybe he hadn’t changed. Not totally. He didn’t want to spend the weekend with a strange woman, but he found the situation mildly amusing. And if his current antics helped line the ranch’s coffers, then his actions weren’t all that bad. He thumbed his cuff links free and flung them high into the air. A scramble ensued. Then he ripped his shirt off his shoulders and tossed it aside. Folding his arms across his chest, he waited.

  “A hundred dollars,” a woman shouted from the crowd.

  “Five,” shrieked another.

  “A thousand,” came a third bid.

  Okay, not bad. That should help the ranch. He smiled in the general direction of the third bid. Maybe he’d luck out and she’d be a granny, like Robbie Carter’s buyers. He’d always been particularly good with grandmothers. It was their granddaughters he had problems with.

  “Five thousand dollars!” came a roar from the back of the crowd.

  A very loud, very male roar.

  A stunned silence descended. Everyone turned, craning toward the bidder. Flynn shielded his eyes, struggling to see who’d spoken. Three men stood close together—a huge, hulking brute, a small fluttering cherub and a long-haired gentleman holding a gold-tipped cane.

  “Five thousand dollars,” the one with the cane repeated.

  The cherub waved, grinning happily.

  Flynn closed his eyes and groaned.

  The auctioneer finally stepped forward, taking control. “I have a bid for five thousand dollars. Do I hear anything more?” He scanned the crowd with a hint of desperation. “Fifty-five hundred?”

  Silence.

  “Say sold!” shouted the cherub.

  Flynn looked on in horror. Choked laughter came from the direction of the bachelors still waiting to be sold. This was not good. Bending, he snatched up his shirt and put it back on, buttoning the damned thing to his chin. Then he shoved the tails into his trousers and snagged his suit jacket.

  “Fifty-one hundred?” the auctioneer prompted.

  More silence.

  “Sold!” the cherub shouted again. “Say sold!”

  “Five thousand, fifty dollars?”

  The crowd began to shuffle uneasily and Flynn decided he’d had enough. His sense of the ridiculous kicked in and laughter rumbled through him. Never in all his born days would he have thought he’d be purchased at a bachelor auction by three old men. Fate just loved to kick him in the teeth. He began to chuckle, his chuckle growing to a flat-out roar of laughter.

  “Five thousand, once...!” the auctioneer reluctantly called.

  Flynn cut him off. “Give it up, friend,” he managed to say. “Sold to my friends in the back for five thousand dollars.” He grinned at the crowd. “This should make for an interesting weekend, don’t you think?”

  Laughing applause escorted him offstage.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Salmon Bay, Washington

  “THEY ALL BACKED OUT of my research study?” Jane Dearly asked in dismay, her hand tightening on the phone receiver. “Every last one?”

  “I can probably round up another bunch of students at the University of Washington at the start of the fall semester. There’s always a new crop eager for a way to earn a few dollars.”

  “But I need help now.”

  “I’m sorry, Jane. Unless you want to drive down here to Seattle and scoop some volunteers off the street, you’re out of luck. You sure you can’t find anyone in that cute little town of yours?”

  “Positive. They’re sort of experimented-out around here. They have been since I was about fifteen.”

  It was not her favorite memory and she closed her eyes, fighting to control her disappointment. Some birthday this had turn
ed out to be. She’d been trying for so long to make her big breakthrough and time was running short. Failure had dogged her the past few years, as did the knowledge that she wasn’t the only one working on this particular project. Competition was fierce. She couldn’t afford a single day’s delay, let alone several weeks.

  “Isn’t there any chance of changing their minds about participating in the study?” Jane asked.

  A tiny silence followed her question. “Apparently they balked when they read your questionnaire,” came the hesitant explanation. “You might want to consider toning down some of the questions for the next group.”

  Darn. “I see. Thanks for your help.”

  “I’ll be in touch as soon as I have more volunteers.”

  Offering her appreciation a final time, Jane hung up the phone. Dipstick, her huge Saint Bernard, whined, lumbering back and forth between her and the door.

  “Time for the mail?” she asked. “Maybe there’ll actually be some good news for a change.” A brisk knock sounded at the door and Jane opened it to the mail carrier. “Hello, Mr. Keenan.”

  “Happy birthday, Jane.”

  It didn’t surprise her a bit that he’d remembered her birthday. Salmon Bay retained all of its small-town characteristics, despite its proximity to Seattle. The residents knew one another as intimately as their own family members, something she’d always appreciated about her hometown. “Why, thank you.” She gave the box a hopeful glance. “Have you brought me something for my birthday?”

  “Sorry. It’s for your uncles. Since they weren’t home, I thought I’d drop it off here.” At her crestfallen expression, he asked, “Were you expecting a package?”

  “Not really. Just hoping I’d get something to brighten my day.”

  “Ah.” He nodded sagely. “Another experiment gone awry?”

  She leaned against the doorjamb and grimaced. “My test subjects took a walk. Can you believe it? So now I have my latest series of formulas ready to go and no one to test them on.”

  “Scared them off, did you?”