How to Lasso a Cowboy

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How to Lasso a Cowboy Page 11

by Shirley Jump


  “I’d think that’s obvious. We barely get along.”

  He took a step closer. The temperature of the air quadrupled. “I’m afraid I have to disagree.” His voice dropped to a low, rough whisper. “Didn’t you enjoy that kiss?”

  Just the mention of it sent a bolt of heat through her veins. She forced herself to hold her ground, not to betray the urge to arch her back and lean into him, and offer her lips to his again. One kiss didn’t make for a relationship. Especially not one that Harlan had used as entertainment for his listeners.

  Just when she thought she knew him, he proved her wrong.

  “That was merely a publicity stunt,” she said. “For your show.”

  “No, sugar, it was anything but.”

  “Are you really going to stand there and tell me that kissing me on live radio wasn’t about boosting your ratings?”

  “It wasn’t.” He moved a little closer and his hat’s shadow dropped over her. “Let me show you.”

  “Show me?”

  He nodded. Slow. Once. “Show you that kiss was real. That I was as knocked off my boots as you.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t believe that for a second.”

  “Then let me prove it to you, darlin’.” Before she could react, he cupped the back of her head and drew her mouth to his. There was no soft lead-in with this kiss. It was hard and fast and hot. Her pulse jumped into overdrive, and heat flooded her body. His tongue swept into her mouth, teased along hers. Desire exploded in her brain, and she pressed into him, opening her mouth wider, wanting more, wanting…

  Just wanting.

  He deepened the kiss, his fingers tangling in her hair, his other hand coming around to splay against her back, fingertips dancing below the waistband of her skirt. He played against her mouth, his lips creating a deep, dark melody that whispered promises of a crescendo she would never forget.

  God, he was good. He tasted like coffee and smelled like soap and hard work. The brim of his hat brushed against her hair, as if every part of him wanted to touch her. She stopped thinking, stopped doing anything but returning his kiss, her body pressing into his, asking without saying for more. For everything.

  She’d never been kissed quite like this, and had never wanted a kiss to last forever as much as she did this one.

  But Harlan drew back, his fingers slowly untangling from her hair, drifting along her neck for a brief second before his touch left her. “That, darlin’, was no publicity stunt.”

  What the hell was he thinking?

  Well, he hadn’t been. That was as sure as rain in spring. A half hour had passed since Harlan had kissed Sophie on her porch. And ever since, he’d been unable to think of anything but kissing her again. He should have been concentrating on manning the radio station’s booth at the carnival. Should have had his mind on joking with Ernie, and making the most out of this opportunity with the listeners. But his attention was divided, with the lion’s share of it locked on Sophie Watson.

  They had hurried over to the carnival, getting there with seconds to spare before Sophie needed to make the announcement opening it to the public. She’d been nervous on stage, a much more stressed woman than the one who ran the coffee shop.

  Because of that kiss? Or because she was overworked and unhappy about having him tag along?

  He told himself he didn’t need to know. But that was a lie.

  The show ended, and Harlan glanced over at Sophie. “Go ahead,” Carl said, seeing Harlan’s interest. “We can get this.”

  Harlan hesitated, then headed toward her. Maybe if he spent some more time with her, he’d remember why she annoyed him so much. Because damned if he could quite recall right now.

  Sophie was standing beside the Tilt-A-Whirl, watching people spin around while pop music played in the background. She was wearing a white lace-trimmed sundress today, with flat shoes. She’d left her hair down, and done something that made it curl around her shoulders. The outfit made her look as sweet and fresh as the spring air. He slipped in beside her. “Want to try it out?”

  She jumped at the sound of his voice, and before she could stop it, a smile curved across her face. When she smiled, it was as if the early evening sunlight had kissed her features. For a second, looking at Sophie made Harlan wonder if his all-work philosophy had him missing out on something that could be incredible.

  “I really should be working the ticket booth,” she said. “Mildred said we’re shorthanded.”

  The ride came to a stop and people began disembarking. From the corner of his eye, Harlan saw his brother head over to the station’s booth. Tobias’s movements were jerky and stuttered because of the crutches and cast. Harlan should head over to the booth, and make sure his brother went home. Tobias needed to rest, not worry about WFFM.

  Guilt warred with desire. Harlan took Sophie’s hand in his. Her palm was soft and delicate against his big, beefy paw. Surely he had five minutes, too, to take a spin. Just five minutes, that was all. And for that snippet of time, maybe he could taste what he’d been missing.

  “Why, Miss Sophie,” he said, “how can you sell the rodeo if you haven’t taken the bronco for a spin?”

  “I…” She glanced again at the ride. The operator was waving in the next group. Her gaze went to the ticket booth, then back to the laughing, happy people climbing into the Tilt-A-Whirl’s cars. “Okay. Just one ride.”

  As he followed Sophie through the gate and handed their tickets to the ride operator, he told himself he wasn’t just doing this for himself, he was doing this for the show, for the radio station, and ultimately, for his brother. So he’d have an adventure to recount tomorrow. After all, he’d agreed to this Love Lottery thing. Might as well make the most of it.

  But as he slid in beside Sophie into the cove-shaped car and pulled the bar over their laps, he knew he was lying to himself. He wanted to feel her body slide against his when the ride spun around a curve. He wanted to hear her laugh and see her smile, and know that he had been a part of that. He wanted to be with her, even if it was only for a couple of minutes. He didn’t want to think about work, not while he was here with her. And especially not while she was smiling.

  For the hundredth time that day, he asked himself what the hell he was doing. He had a business to run, a brother to worry about, a radio show to host. He didn’t have time for a woman like Sophie Watson. She had small-town, settle-down, make-a-family written all over her.

  He sure as hell wasn’t here to settle down or make a family. He shouldn’t even entertain the notion. People depended on him to stay on task—not get distracted by a woman.

  Tinny pop music played inside the car. A warm breeze whispered the scent of the ocean. Beside him, he noticed Sophie tense. Her fingers wrapped around the thick metal bar.

  “What’s the matter? The ride make you nervous?”

  “No. I just—” she sighed “—saw a reporter over there. I’m hoping he’s not here to talk to me.”

  “I thought you were publicity director for the Love Lottery thing. Doesn’t that include talking to the media?” Everything he knew about this woman spoke of confidence, strength. She didn’t seem the type to back down from a challenge, or heck, even two golden retrievers. Why did talking to the press or making a short speech get her so worked up?

  She didn’t answer his question. “How do you do your show and share your life with your listeners, and not wind up nervous that you might say too much?”

  “I don’t really think about it,” he said. “I just…talk.”

  “Aren’t you worried you’ll say or do something that will embarrass you?”

  Harlan laughed. “Darlin’, I have made a career out of my embarrassin’ moments.” Except lately he’d begun to wonder if maybe being so open was a mistake. Thousands of people thought they knew him when really, no one did. No one knew the Harlan Jones that existed outside that radio booth.

  His gaze took in Sophie’s delicate features, her earnest expression. At that moment, he could see s
he was genuinely interested in him and his thoughts. Him—Harlan Jones the man, not the personality. The same man who’d grown up poor in a tiny house in Dallas.

  Right now, there was no tension between them. Merely a conversation between…well, friends. And it was nice, nicer than he’d expected.

  “Doesn’t that ever get to you? Having people know every detail of your private life?” she asked, as if she’d read his mind.

  He considered putting his radio face on his answer. Telling her he was just fine with it, that it was all part of the show. Instead, he did what he’d never done before—

  And gave Sophie Watson a peek at the truth.

  “Yeah,” he said, “it does. People think they know me when really, they only know the person I’ve painted for them, if that makes sense.”

  “It does,” she said softly, and once again, he wondered if there was something she was holding back. She seemed to understand, in a way few people he knew did. “Then why do you keep doing the show?”

  “In the beginning, it was fun. I’m not gonna lie to you, darlin’, it’s mighty nice to get recognized on the street, to have people ask you to dinner, just because you’re some kind of celebrity.”

  “Or have a certain level of notoriety.”

  “I do indeed,” he said, laughing.

  “But?” she prompted. “I can hear a but in your sentence.”

  “But after a while, I started to wonder…” His voice trailed off. Damn. This sharing thing was hard. No wonder he’d avoided doing it most of his life.

  “Go ahead, finish what you were saying.”

  He took off his hat and spun it between his fingers. “But after a while, I started to wonder if people liked the Harlan they thought they knew, the radio version, or, well, hell, the real me.”

  “The real you isn’t so bad,” she said, and a smile curved across her face.

  “Why, thank you, ma’am. And neither is the real Sophie.”

  Her gaze went to some far off place. “I understand what you mean, though. People see or hear about what happens in public, and that becomes their frame for your picture. They don’t bother to dig any deeper.”

  The tension had returned to her shoulders, to her jaw. “Sounds like you’ve had an embarrassing moment you’d like to take back,” he said.

  She shrugged. “Maybe.”

  He peered around her face and looked at her until she turned her green eyes on his. Whatever had happened, she wasn’t betraying a word. “And you don’t want to tell me because you’re afraid I’ll put it on the show.”

  “Wouldn’t you? You’ve put everything else I’ve ever done on your show.”

  Ouch. The truth stung, and regret pinged Harlan. If he could take the words back, he would. Because he hated seeing that disappointed, hurt look on Sophie’s face, and he hated even more knowing that he put it there. “I have, but I haven’t made you look bad.”

  “‘Animal antagonist’?”

  “Okay, maybe with that.”

  “‘Lunatic neighbor’?”

  He cringed. “Yeah, that, too.”

  “Shall I go on?”

  The ride operator had finished making sure everyone was safe in the cars and was crossing the platform, his steps making their seat bounce a little. In a minute, the ride would start. It would sure be a waste to embark on a fun event like this, with Sophie steaming at him.

  “I’m sorry,” Harlan said, and honestly meant the words. “That was wrong of me. Sometimes I need to lasso my mouth before it gets away from my brain.”

  He could see her try to hold back a smile at his lame attempt at a joke, but the effort was too much, and she gave up. The smile swung across her face, wide and bright, and it seemed as if the sun had suddenly risen inside the shadows of the cove-shaped ride. He hadn’t realized how much he wanted her to forgive him until she did.

  “Does that mean you aren’t going to say anything mean about me ever again?” she asked.

  He made a gesture of crossing his heart. “Nothing mean. I promise.”

  She snorted. But the smile stayed. “I’ll believe that when I hear it.”

  He grinned. “I thought you didn’t listen to my show.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Then how will you ever know what I say about you?”

  “The ride’s starting. We should pay attention.” And she looked away from him so he couldn’t tell what she might have said, if she’d answered his question.

  This woman drove him crazy. Half the time he was thinking about kissing her, the other half he thought about getting as far away as possible. Right this second, he wanted nothing more than to see her smile again. And to find out what mysteries she was keeping to herself.

  For the first time in a long time, Harlan Jones thought about sharing his own mysteries with another person. Gettin’ real, as they called it, and letting Sophie Watson in.

  He considered her again. It took him a second to make the connection, to start bringing all the pieces from the last few days together. “Is all this because of what happened during the live radio show earlier? I’m real sorry about that. Things just kind of got out of hand.”

  She worried her bottom lip. “It happened. Nothing I can do about it but move forward.”

  “Actually,” he said as the ride started, “I think right now we’re gonna move in circles.” The car began spinning slowly at first, then picking up speed as the platform spun faster. The world outside went from details—Ernie waiting by the radio station’s booth, Tobias sitting on a stool beside him, Mildred and Art walking hand in hand—to a blur of colors. The bright red car began to sway in half circles back and forth, and Sophie gripped the silver bar to keep from sliding. But as it moved faster, centrifugal force spun the car in a full, fast circle, peeling her away from the bar, and into his chest.

  She was solid and warm against him, and with each spin he caught the vanilla notes of her perfume. How did that woman manage to smell so…delicious? It was as if she’d taken the sweetest ingredients in those bis-yummy things and applied them to her skin. He wanted to taste her skin, trail his mouth along her shoulders, her arms, her belly, and see if she tasted as wonderful as she smelled. Desire pulsed in his veins, thundered in his head.

  Kiss her, kiss her.

  His brain chanted the words, just like the crowd had earlier. Kiss her, kiss her. Instead, he raised his arm above her shoulders and she curved into him on the next turn, as if she’d been made for that space.

  “Oh, sorry,” she said. She reached for the bar again, and tried to pull herself off him but the ride’s movements kept her rooted in place. The wind toyed with her hair, sending the blond strands up and away from her face like a delicate halo.

  “You’re fine, totally fine,” Harlan said. “This is probably as close as I’ll come to rescuing a damsel in distress.”

  She laughed, a sweet, hearty sound that was music to Harlan’s ears. “It’s moving so fast!”

  “Yeah, it is,” he said. Faster than he wanted, but he couldn’t seem to put on the brakes. They spun in quick, tight circles, Sophie pressed hard against him, and Harlan’s mind traveled down paths that went way beyond trailing kisses down her body. He wondered what it would be like to have her in his arms every day. To come home to her smiling face, and even more, to wake up to her curled against him. Every time the car made another loop, he fought the urge to do more than just hold her.

  He hadn’t felt this much desire for a woman in…well, forever. Harlan Jones was a man who worked hard, who put everything he had into the job he was doing. He wasn’t a man who gave in to fancy flights of reason. And everything about being involved with Sophie Watson would be like riding a jet plane away from the reality of his days, his job. What his brother needed from him.

  Didn’t make him stop wanting her, though.

  “Are you having fun?” she asked.

  “Yep,” he said, and his words were caught in the vortex inside the car. “Are you?”

  She nodded. “Lots.�
��

  “Good,” Harlan murmured against her neck. The word was lost in the golden maze of her hair. And so was he.

  Too soon, the ride came to an end. The car began to slow, and Sophie shifted away from him. Disappointment sunk in his gut. He wanted her pressed against him again, wanted to feel her one more time in his arms. Wanted to stay in this tiny pocket comprised of just him and her, for a little longer.

  The world started coming back into focus, and as the WFFM booth spun in and out of sight, Harlan got back to the real world. His brother waved at him, and even though the early evening sun was still bright, the day was warm, and Tobias hadn’t done much more than sit in the station’s booth, Harlan could see exhaustion lining his younger brother’s face.

  Tobias wasn’t recovered enough to run the station on his own. Hell, he might never be. That meant Harlan had to keep his eye on the ball, and not go chasing after something that he couldn’t have.

  Hadn’t he already done that once? And that choice had ultimately cost Tobias, nearly cost him everything. Not again.

  The ride operator hopped onto the platform, and pulled back the bar. “All done.”

  “Yeah,” Harlan said, following Sophie out of the car, then turning to head toward the station, and his brother. “We are.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  MILDRED was wearing a smile that the Cheshire cat would envy when Sophie entered the ticket booth for her shift. Oh, oh, Sophie thought. That didn’t bode well.

  Sophie had decided on the walk over here that she would tell Mildred to find someone else for Harlan. That would be best for all involved.

  Definitely best.

  Before the ride started, they’d had a nice conversation, one that made her look at Harlan in a new light. Over the last week, he’d done that a dozen times. In the way he’d taken care of Grandma, the way he’d talked to her—and listened, really listened. The day he had her on his show and focused entirely on what was important to her.

  She’d been thinking how nice all that was. How much she enjoyed being with him. Then the ride had started, and the dynamics shifted. In a big way.

 

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