KISS ME, COWBOY

by Maureen Child

  Nora stopped dead, lifted her chin and squinted to get a good look at him. She blinked and tried to clear her vision. But it was no use. Mike Fallon definitely had not one, but two gorgeous faces. And the harder she tried, the blurrier he got. At last, she gave it up.

  Maybe she shouldn't have had that last margarita, she thought as a flush of heat swept through her.

  "Hi, Mike." She blew out a breath. "And no, it's not tilting. Swaying a little, maybe." Narrowing her eyes, she looked him up and down. "I'm surprised to see you here."

  "The whole town's here."

  "Yeah," she said, shifting her gaze to let it slide across the crowd. Just as her sisters had predicted, the bride was a lovely shade of green. Becky's new groom danced attendance on her while her mother told everyone who would stand still enough to listen about the virulent flu her poor daughter had caught.

  Except for the tasty margaritas, the night, as far as Nora was concerned, had been a bust. She hadn't found anyone willing to take her virginity out for a spin, so to speak. Still, the reception wasn't over yet.

  Her gaze slid back to Mike. Even blurry, he was too handsome for his own good. His rugged jaw and deep green eyes really were fantasy material. And though she preferred him in his jeans and boots, a suit jacket looked pretty good on him, too. Good enough that she was willing to give it a shot.

  Leaning in toward him, she smiled and batted her eyelashes.

  "You have something in your eyes?"

  "No," she said, and reared back to glare at him. "I was flirting."

  "Badly."

  "Gee, thanks."

  "Nora, what's going on?"

  She sighed and reached up to push her hand through her hair until she remembered that Frannie had sprayed it into a football helmet. Letting her hand drop to her side again, she muttered, "Nothing. Absolutely nothing is going on."

  And, the way things were looking, she was pretty sure she was headed for that house full of cats.

  "If you don't mind my saying so," Mike said softly, his voice just carrying over the rock and roll blasting from the speakers at the front of the reception hall, "you're acting a little … weird."

  "Weird?" She put one hand on his chest and shoved. He didn't move. "I'm acting weird?" Nora laughed shortly. "You come to a big party and stand in a corner by yourself and I'm the one acting weird?" She shook her head and immediately regretted the action. "Whoa," she whispered. Then, when the room righted itself again, she continued. "You know," she said, taking a deep breath, "you can go to a party, but if you're not at the party, then you might as well not have gone to the party. You know what I mean?"

  "Not a clue."

  She huffed out a breath. Pointless to try to get through to him, she thought. And while she stood here talking to the statue that was Mike Fallon, she was missing opportunities. "Never mind. We are so not comoon-conamuti—" she paused to corral her tongue around the word— "communicating."

  His lips twitched into what might have been a smile, but it flashed across his face and disappeared again so quickly, she couldn't he sure. It was a great face, she thought. Heck, even blurry, he hooked good. "It's a shame," she muttered.

  "What is?"

  Nora shook her head and waved one hand at him. "Nothing. Nothing. See you, Mike."

  She walked away then and his gaze dropped to the curve of her behind. Hell, what man's wouldn't? It was a great behind. But Mike frowned to himself as he wondered what she'd meant by it's a shame.

  Over the next couple of hours, he watched Nora laughing and talking with her friends, and a part of him envied how comfortable she was with people. Socializing had never come easily to Mike and he figured it was too late now to change that. Even if he'd wanted to.

  He took a sip of his second beer of the night and realized it had gone warm. Setting it down on the table in front of him, he forgot about it and focused instead on the tall blonde in black. Strange, but he couldn't seem to stop watching Nora. Or thinking about her. He could have left the reception an hour ago. Ordinarily, he would have. But for some reason, tonight, he just wasn't ready to leave yet.

  Bill Hammond, Tesoro's self-described ladies' man, moved in on Nora. When she threw her head back to look at him, Mike's gaze fixed on the elegant line of her throat.

  Bill's gaze was focused a little lower.

  *

  "Nora," someone close by said in a deep voice, "you look amazing."

  "Thank you." Actually, even she'd had to admit that her sisters' handiwork had turned out pretty well. Though she did have to fight the urge to pull down on her hem and up on her neckline. Before this, she'd never owned anything that exposed so much skin – except a swimsuit. Turning around to thank whoever it was talking to her, she smiled up at Bill Hammond and hoped he didn't notice her disappointment.

  As the local ladies' man, Bill considered any single female between the ages of eighteen and eighty fair game. Getting a compliment from him was as special as seeing a snowflake in a blizzard. Still, she felt she was in no position to be choosy.

  His dark brown hair was styled just right, his dark brown eyes skimmed over her in appreciation, then slipped past her, as if making sure there was no one more interesting around. A small part of her sizzled in annoyance, but she smothered it. Nora had come to the wedding with one thought in mind: find a suitable guy to help her out of celibacy.

  And since Bill seemed to be the only one offering…

  "Would you like to dance?" he asked.

  Before her rational mind could react and tell him to go away, Nora spoke up. "You bet."

  She stumbled slightly but told herself it was because her new shoes hurt her feet. Who on earth had ever decided women should wear high heels?

  Nora swayed slightly, but, since she was dancing, she hoped no one would notice. Oh, she really shouldn't have had that last margarita. But she'd needed a little false courage to deal with this whole man hunt. Now that she'd actually caught a man's interest, she wasn't at all sure she was pleased about it.

  Bill's hands seemed to be everywhere. Instead of being excited, Nora just wanted him to stop it. But she swallowed back the no she wanted to give him. After all, this had been the plan all along, right? Now wasn't the time to get nervous. Instead she told herself to get in the spirit of things.

  He guided her into a turn around the dance floor, and the crowd surrounding them seemed to blur into a wash of color and motion. Yet, somehow, she managed to spot one pair of deep green eyes watching her from across the room.

  Mike.

  Her heart did a strange little bump and roll as she locked gazes with him. A moment later, that feeling was gone as Bill whispered, "Let's step outside for some fresh air."

  Fresh air. That's probably all she needed. Good idea.

  "Okay," she said, and walked beside him, the heavy weight of his arm draped across her shoulders as he steered her through the crowd and out the French doors.

  Night air rushed toward them, cool and sweet, with the scent of the flower gardens just beyond the brick patio. Nora slipped free of Bill's arm and immediately felt lighter and more free as she crossed the patio and came to a stop at the river-stone balustrade.

  She tipped her head back to look up at the sky, sprinkled with diamond-like stars. A soft sea breeze drifted past her, tugging at her hair, caressing her skin and even, she thought wryly, clearing away some of the haze in her brain.

  Enough so that when Bill approached her from behind, she wished she were anywhere but there.

  "Did I tell you that you look great tonight?" he asked.

  "Probably."

  "Well," he said, sliding one hand down the length of her bare arm, "just in case I didn't, I'll say it now. Man, Nora, I had no idea you could look like this."

  Well, there was a backhanded compliment if she'd ever heard one. What did she look like usually, she wondered, a gargoyle?

  "Thanks."

  "You're just as sweet as one of your pastries."

  She winced. Did lines like that really
work?

  "Now I want to see if you taste as good as you look."

  And with that smooth come-on, he turned her around and stared down into her eyes with a hunger she'd never seen directed at her before. A deep, dark hole opened up in the pit of Nora's stomach, and for one shining moment, she thought for sure she'd be thoroughly and violently ill. Then Bill grabbed her close with all the sensitivity of a starving man reaching for the only steak left in the world.

  Her hands flat against his chest, she tried to hold him off, but with his arms pinning her to him, it was useless. Her mind raced with a speed that surprised her, considering just how wobbly she'd been a moment before. How could she have allowed herself to get into this position? Heck, forty cats were suddenly looking pretty good.

  Before she could do anything to stop him, his mouth was coming down on hers and all Nora could think was that she'd never noticed just how thick and wet Bill's lips were. She felt … nothing. No excitement. No anticipation. Not even fear or anxiety. Just a mild sort of revulsion that she was pretty sure she'd have to get over if she ever wanted to lose her "virgin" status.

  "Let her go."

  A deep voice. Close by.

  Nora's eyes wheeled as she searched the dimly lit patio for the intruder. A second later, Bill was plucked off of her and effortlessly tossed to one side.

  He staggered slightly, regained his footing and scowled at the man standing protectively close to Nora.

  "Back off, Bill," Mike said.

  "Who invited you into this?"

  "I didn't have to be invited." Clearly disgusted, Mike added, "Can't you see she's had too much to drink?"

  "Mike…" Nora said, grabbing at his arm.

  He shrugged her off, never taking his eyes off of Bill, who didn't look at all happy about having his romantic moves interrupted.

  "This is between me and Nora."

  "Ordinarily," Mike said, "I'd agree. Not tonight."

  "Who're you?" Bill demanded. "Her father?"

  She felt as though she were trapped in an old movie. Hero and villain were squaring off, with the heroine standing on the sidelines, wringing her hands. Well, she'd never been much of a hand wringer.

  "Okay," Nora piped up again. "Why don't you guys—"

  "Shut up a minute, all right?" Mike said, not even glancing at her.

  "Shut up?" She glared at him and only got angrier when she noticed he was paying no attention to her at all. "You're telling me to shut up?"

  He finally shot her a quick look. "Just sit down, will you?"

  "Look, I don't need you to—"

  "It's okay, Nora. This'll only take a minute." But her protests came a little late as Bill suddenly charged. Mike stepped to the left, drew his right arm back and landed a solid punch to the other man's jaw. Bill did a strange, almost ballet-like spin and crumpled into the nearby shrubbery without a sound. Stunned, Nora stared down at her would-be lover, now sprawled in the well-tended bushes. She noted that music was still playing inside. The crowd was still celebrating. No one but she and the two men involved had any idea of what was going on out here in the shadows.

  That was some consolation, she guessed. At least half the town hadn't witnessed this little scene.

  Everything was ruined now. Her plan shot, she turned and looked up at the man who had inadvertently kept her a virgin one more night. She'd have had to have been blind not to see the flash of satisfaction in Mike's eyes. How very … male of him. Planting one hand in the center of his chest, she gave him a shove and was pleased to see him back up a little.

  "What do you think you're doing?"

  Clearly bewildered, Mike just gaped at her for a moment or two before saying, "I think I'm saving you from a jerk."

  "Did I ask to be saved?"

  "No, but—"

  "Did I look scared? Panicked?"

  "No," he admitted, pushing the edges of his jacket back to shove both hands in his pants pockets. "You looked a little disgusted."

  "And that requires rescue?"

  When he didn't say anything, Nora threw both hands in the air and started pacing. Her heels clicked menacingly on the bricks, keeping time with her fury.

  Mike watched her warily but had to admit that she looked good with the fire of rage in her cheeks. What she was so mad about, he hadn't a clue. Hell, he'd thought he was doing her a favor. Usually, Nora was sensible. Reasonable. Tonight, though, she hadn't been acting at all like herself. When he saw Bill steer her out into the night, he knew the man was about to make a play. And since Mike also knew that Nora'd had one too many celebratory drinks, he'd figured she might need a hand peeling Bill's hands off her body.

  Of course, he hadn't counted on the quick rush of … something that had filled him the minute he spotted Bill Hammond draped across Nora's frame. And he didn't want to explore that feeling at the moment, either. Right now, he was more concerned with staying out of her reach.

  "Three hundred dollars," she was saying. "Counting the manicure and the haircut – I mean, they're my sisters, but it's their job, right? They have a right to be paid. Plus the new dress – and I hate shopping."

  A woman? Who hated shopping?

  "What are you talking about?" His gaze followed her as she marched back and forth past Bill's prone body.

  "This." She waved her hands up and down her body, indicating the whole package. "The dress, the hair, the makeup, these stupid, too expensive shoes that are killing me. Not to mention this purse. It's only big enough to hold my keys and my driver's license! How can they charge seventy-five bucks for that?"

  "How the hell should I know, but—"

  She cut him off again. "That's not the point, though, is it?"

  No, the point was that he'd come out here to he a rescuer and she was making him feel like Typhoid Mike. He should have gone with his first instinct. To mind his own business. What was it his father used to say? Oh, yes. "No good deed goes unpunished." He could almost hear the old man laughing at him.

  He folded his arms across his chest, bit down on the anger rumbling through him and said, "Why don't you tell me what the point is, exactly?"

  "Fine."

  She stopped right in front of him, tilted her head back to look into his eyes and wobbled unsteadily. She hardly blinked when he moved quickly to grab hold of her upper arms to steady her.

  "The point is," she said, "I had a plan. A perfectly good plan and you've ruined it." She half turned, looked over her shoulder to where Bill was just stirring and pushing himself out of the hedges.

  Mike followed her gaze. "Bill was your plan?"

  "Certainly a big part of it," she countered, then frowning, turned back to Mike. A drooping blond curl fell across her forehead and she blew out a breath, sending it out of her eyes.

  Her cheeks flushed, her eyes dancing with impatience, frustration and anger, she made a hell of a picture. It was damn near enough to make Mike's mouth water. Which worried him enough to let her go and take a long step backward.

  "Okay fine. Bill's waking up. I'll just get out of here and you can go back to your … plan."

  Bill muttered under his breath, rubbed his jaw and slowly climbed out of the bushes. Once he was on his feet again, he gave Mike a hot glare, avoided looking at Nora altogether and headed back toward the reception. His steps were steady, but the greenery stuck in his hair spoiled his attempt at dignity.

  When they were alone on the patio again, Nora threw her hands high and let them slap down against her sides again. "See? Ruined. Now I'll have to find someone else."

  But apparently, Mike thought, not tonight, since she walked past him and started down the brick walkway that ringed the clubhouse. Faux antique lampposts lined the walk, dropping small puddles of light into the shadows. Nora walked unevenly, wobbling from one side of the bricks to the other. Mike glanced over his shoulder at the crowded room behind him, then back to Nora. No contest.

  He caught up to her in a few long strides. She was moving slowly, carefully, and limping painfully.

&nbs
p; "These things are killing me," she complained just before she kicked first her right shoe, then the left, into the ivy lining the walkway. She sighed in satisfaction and started walking again, leaving the hated shoes behind. Mike chuckled to himself, scooped up her shoes in one hand and followed, wondering what in the hell had happened to turn the ever-sensible Nora into a beautiful, exasperating stranger.

  He was about to find out.

  * * *

  Chapter 3

  «^»

  Mike kept a wary eye on Nora as she moved farther away from the wedding reception, still in full swing just twenty feet from them. Her steps wobbly on the brick walkway, she seemed to sway through the puddles of light dropped by the tall lamps lining the path. The night air was thick with the scent of flowers, and the dance music from inside came muted and soft, like a delicate backdrop. Nora kept muttering under her breath, and though he couldn't make out what she was saying, the tone of her voice told him it was probably just as well. Shaking his head, he followed her, tucking her shoes into the pockets of his jacket. She probably wouldn't thank him, but he figured the best thing he could do now was to get her into his car and take her home.

  Then she stopped suddenly, turned, and before he could react, she slammed into his chest. Staggering slightly, she lifted her chin, looked into his eyes and blinked, as if trying to bring him into focus. He knew the feeling. It was as if he were seeing her for the first time. Her blue eyes were dreamy and her skin looked like fine porcelain in the dim, soft light. A slight sea breeze kicked in from the ocean only a mile or two away, and ruffled her hair with a lover's caress. For one brief moment, Mike thought about pulling her close, slanting his mouth over hers and—

  "This is your fault," she said.

  He laughed, the romantic image he'd been building, shattered. "You drinking too much is my fault?"

  "Not that." She waved a hand at him, scowling. "You're not paying attention."

  True. He hadn't been paying attention to her words. He'd been too distracted by her curves. "Okay, now I'm listening."

  She inhaled deeply, then let her breath out in a rush, ruffling the blond curl hanging over her forehead. He'd never seen her so … loose. Usually, Nora was friendly but businesslike as she stood behind her counter at the bakery. Tonight was a revelation in a lot of ways.