Riding Home

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

He glanced at her. “How did things go in the house when you went back?”

  “Fine. No one’s ever been rude to me, but I can tell they’re only being nice because they’re decent people and they love Regan. So do I, but I doubt they’d believe me if I said so.”

  He was quiet for a moment. “You’re still in love with him?”

  “Not in love, but I love him as a friend.”

  “Oh.” He didn’t sound convinced. “I’m not sure I understand how that works.”

  “You’ve never had a close woman friend, someone you loved but weren’t in love with?”

  “I’d have to think about that. My close relationships with women always seem to have a sexual undertone. Then when we act on that, we have an affair, and after it ends, we’re usually not that close anymore.”

  She wasn’t surprised that he ended up in bed with his women friends. One look at his classic profile as he drove this massive truck got her engines running. His hair was a soft brown with enough curl to curve around his ears. She even liked the shape of those ears. Women would naturally want to get their hands on this guy.

  “That’s the way it often goes,” she said. “I’m the last person to brag about my relationship skills. I used to be so proud of my situation with Regan and Drake. I had love and sex with Regan and cherished Drake as a close friend. But a bottle of wine and general dissatisfaction with the status quo ruined everything.”

  “If you could go back and change that, would you?”

  “Good question.” She settled into her comfy leather seat. “If you’d asked me that last January, I would have said yes, in a heartbeat. But now I realize the status quo wasn’t right, and goin’ to bed with Drake was probably my subconscious effort to change it. Regan and I didn’t have the bone-deep passion and commitment that would carry us through fifty or sixty years of marriage.”

  “Did you have it with Drake?”

  “God, no!” She laughed at the thought. Talking about this with someone who wouldn’t judge was a huge relief. “He had his own reasons for shaking things up, but an undying love for me wasn’t one of them.”

  “He told you that?”

  “More or less. I admitted the same thing to him. We were a sorry pair, all right. I should have broken up with Regan instead of getting smashed and having sex with his best friend. But wedding plans have a life of their own. My parents had made a sizable, nonrefundable down payment on the venue. The wedding party had been chosen, and the dresses and tuxes had been ordered.”

  “You felt trapped.”

  “Yes.” She heard something in his voice. “From the way you said that, I’m guessing you know what that’s like.”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Did you almost marry the wrong person, too?” That would explain his empathetic response.

  “Nope. But I know what it feels like to be going down a road and realize it’s the wrong one, but you can’t get a handle on how to change it.”

  “How so?”

  He smiled. “Not now. I want to hear your story.”

  She made a note to ask later. “There’s not much more to tell. Drake and I caused a scandal. My folks pretend they’ve forgiven me, but they haven’t. I think Regan has, though. And Drake, Regan and I are almost back to normal. I wish Regan’s extended family could let it go, but...they may not. I’ll have to live with that.”

  “I predict they’ll warm up.”

  “If I wear different clothes?”

  “Won’t hurt.”

  “I found out something right before you picked me up. I thought by staying at the Bunk and Grub, I’d escaped the Chance family’s influence.”

  He looked over at her. “You didn’t know that Pam was married to Emmett?”

  “Why would I? They don’t even live together!”

  “Which is apparently how they like it. They married late in life, so they each need their space, except for...well, the obvious.”

  “Right.” And here they were focusing once again on the topic of sex. The cab was roomy, but not so big that she didn’t feel his energy across the console. He was a potent guy.

  “Pam is also Nick Chance’s aunt.”

  “She is?” Jeannette sighed. “And Regan joined Nick’s veterinary practice when he moved out here, so that explains why Pam has been friendly and polite, but never warm. I thought she was simply being professional, but no, she’s part of Team Chance. Oh, well.”

  “What about Drake? You shouldn’t be dealing with this alone. Is he getting the cold shoulder, too?”

  “Oh, probably to some extent, but he’s been here longer, and now he’s involved with Tracy, who’s very popular, I gather. They may be giving him a pass because Tracy likes him.” Her phone chirped, indicating she had a text. “Will you excuse me a minute? I should get that. It might be from work.”

  “On a Friday night?”

  “Oh, yeah. My assistant is dedicated.”

  “By all means, see what’s up.”

  Jeannette checked her phone, hoping for good news from Erin, her paralegal assistant. Instead Erin confirmed that they had a big hole in their research on the current case. She promised to work through the weekend to plug that hole, which made Jeannette feel guilty. She should be there helping Erin dig up the information they needed to build a solid defense.

  But she wasn’t there, and so all she could do was text her sincere thanks for Erin’s effort. With a sigh, she put her phone back in her purse. Maybe she should change her flight and go back on Sunday, after all.

  “Problems?”

  “I was afraid we hadn’t thoroughly researched a contract dispute, and sure enough, we haven’t. The client expects an open-and-shut case, but at this point, there’s no guarantee that we’ll prevail.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “Why?”

  “I might be able to help.”

  She was touched, but if he made his living as a cowhand, he wouldn’t be of much use in this capacity. She didn’t want to insult him, though. “I can describe the case, and I appreciate your offer, but I’m not sure that you—”

  “I may not be able to help considering that you’re in Virginia and every state is different. But it’s worth a shot. Contract law has similarities all over the country.”

  “Yes, but I still don’t think—”

  “Look, nobody besides Jack knows this, and I’d rather not broadcast it if you don’t mind, but...I was an entertainment lawyer in Hollywood for thirteen years. Contract law is my specialty.”

  She stared at him. “Well, that sure as hell explains this fancy truck.”

  3

  JEANNETTE OUTLINED THE CASE, which involved a contract for the sale of a registered Thoroughbred foal. Even though he’d never dealt with the intricacies of Thoroughbred racing, he knew contract law. He grasped the essentials fairly quickly and they debated the merits of the case all the way to Jackson.

  He’d thought his interest in contract law was dead. Maybe not. The lively discussion with Jeannette was more fun than it should have been if he’d abandoned his profession. In his heart he knew he hadn’t totally given up on practicing law.

  But his job at the Last Chance satisfied something basic in his nature. He loved working with the horses, repairing things around the ranch, even shoveling shit. The idea of going back to a desk job didn’t appeal to him at all.

  Before they’d reached the outskirts of Jackson, Jeannette had texted several suggestions to her assistant, Erin, and had received an enthusiastic response. Jeannette laughed and turned to Zach. “She wants to know if I’ve stumbled upon a hidden law library up in the hinterlands.”

  He couldn’t pretend that wasn’t gratifying. “Just tell her you met a burned-out lawyer who still has a few tricks up his sleeve. Maybe none of them will pan out, either. Y
ou have a complicated deal there.”

  Jeannette sent the message and got back an instant reply. “She says I should lasso you and bring you back to Virginia as...” She stopped.

  “As what?” Luck was with him and he found a parking space on the square near the Western-wear store. He pulled into it.

  “Never mind.”

  “No fair.” He shut off the engine and turned to her. “What did she say?”

  Even at this hour, the summer sky was bright, so her blush was easy to see. “As my, um, love slave.”

  He laughed. “How did she come up with that? I thought we were talking about lawyerly things.”

  “I might have said that I met a sexy burned-out lawyer.”

  “Oh, yeah?” More and more, he regretted that she was leaving on Monday.

  “You know you are, Zach. I mean, look at this truck. It oozes testosterone.”

  “Well, that’s good. A manly truck was what I was going for. I just didn’t figure on the dust.” He surveyed the crowded square. “Which will it be, food or shopping?”

  “Food. I’ll shop better on a full stomach. Besides, now that I know about your background, I have millions of questions about why you’re here and not there.”

  “It’s simple.”

  “I doubt it.”

  He opened his door. “I promise you it is, but now that you know I have resources, will you let me buy dinner?”

  “Absolutely not. If your suggestions work, then you saved my bacon on this case.”

  “Don’t jump to any conclusions. I might have sent you and your assistant down the wrong bunny trail.”

  “Or not. Assuming you set us on the right track, I owe you way more than a dinner.”

  “Oh?” He couldn’t resist teasing her. After all, she was the one who’d called him sexy. “And what exactly did you have in mind that would repay that enormous debt?”

  She met his gaze with a deadpan expression. “My eternal gratitude.”

  “Damn. Guess I’m not quite sexy enough, even driving this big-ass truck.”

  “Hold on.” Her green eyes danced with mischief. “You don’t know what my eternal gratitude might inspire me to do.”

  Lust arrowed through him and centered in his crotch. He took a steadying breath. “Good point. Guess I’d better take your eternal gratitude for now and see how things work out. Let’s find some food.”

  Twenty minutes later they were finally seated in a little Italian restaurant a block off the main square. It was the only place that didn’t have a two-hour wait. He should have anticipated that Jackson would be hopping on a Friday night in August, which was still officially tourist season. At least a table for two was easier to snag than if they’d had a larger party.

  He ordered a bottle of Chianti and poured them each a full glass. They were on the far side of the square from the Western-wear store and the truck. By the time they ate, walked back around the square and shopped for her clothes, he’d be fine to drive.

  Picking up his glass, he raised it in her direction. “Here’s to settling your case in your client’s favor.”

  “I’ll drink to that.” She touched her glass to his and took a long swallow.

  He watched her slender throat move, forgetting to drink his wine. All he could think about was pressing his mouth to that ivory skin and driving her wild with his kisses. She’d told her assistant he was sexy. He really wanted to prove that assumption.

  “Zach? Are you okay?”

  He snapped out of his sexual daze. “Great. Just great.”

  “You haven’t touched your wine.”

  “I was waiting for you.”

  “Am I the taste tester? If I keel over, you’ll know not to drink it?”

  “No, I... Ah, to hell with it. You’re beautiful, Jeannette. I’ve been trying to ignore that, but then you went and told your assistant that I’m sexy. That sort of changed the game for me.”

  She put down her wine and gazed at him across the small table. “Okay, I’ll admit that you fascinate me, especially now that I know you had this whole other life before becoming a cowboy. What happened? Why did you give it up?”

  “If I tell you that, I’m liable to lose some of my sexy quotient.”

  That made her laugh. “I doubt it. Come on. We have time before our meal arrives, and I really want to know.”

  He sighed. “Okay, might as well ruin my image sooner than later. I’d been dissatisfied for quite a while, although I wouldn’t admit it to myself. Couldn’t see myself walking away from all that money.”

  “That’s understandable.”

  “Nice try. But it’s not understandable when you figure I’d socked away enough to live comfortably for the rest of my life.”

  Her eyes widened.

  “Please don’t be impressed.”

  “I’ll be impressed if I want to.”

  “No, seriously, don’t be. You can make crazy money in Hollywood. But it’s a hectic life and your values can easily get skewed.”

  “Sure, for the stars, but—”

  “For anyone working in the business. I wasn’t morally bankrupt, at least not completely, but I was the contract lawyer for someone who was. He was a horse’s ass who never showed up at the set on time or else he’d be drunk, stoned or both. The studio finally fired him, but I got him the money, anyway. Millions. He sent me a case of Dom Pérignon and a pricey call girl.”

  “Wow.”

  “For the record, I kept the champagne but sent the call girl home.”

  “You must be a damned good lawyer.”

  “Used to be. Past tense.”

  “That seems like a shame.” She picked up her wine and gazed at him over the rim of the glass. “All that education and experience, going to waste.”

  “You’re not the first person to mention that.”

  “I mean, sure, I can understand wanting to leave L.A. if you were burned out from that lifestyle, but you could set up shop somewhere else, especially if you have savings.”

  “Just can’t get excited about doing that.”

  “So you became a ranch hand, instead. Why?”

  He sipped his wine as he thought how to answer without sounding starry-eyed. “I’ve been around Hollywood enough to know that the cowboy fantasy is a myth created by books and movies. But it’s a good myth, and it has some basis in fact.”

  “Maybe it does.” Her green gaze became thoughtful. “Regan once said the guys he met at the Last Chance lived up to the image of what a cowboy should be—brave, honest, protective. I’m not surprised he’s happy to be part of that mystique. He’s all of those things.” Regret shone in her eyes. “He didn’t deserve—”

  “Hey.” He leaned toward her. “He didn’t deserve ending up with the wrong person, either. Because of your actions, he didn’t. I propose a moratorium on guilt, at least for tonight.”

  “Okay, but that goes for you, too. I hope you’re not still feeling guilty about the money you won for that actor.”

  He thought about that. “I am, but you’re right. I need to lose the guilt. It’s over. Can’t do anything about it now.”

  “Right.”

  “Anyway, the reason I wanted to become a ranch hand is that cowboys are considered heroic, and I wanted to feel like that.” He shrugged. “Stupid, huh?”

  She shook her head. “No,” she said softly. “Sweet.”

  “Ugh. No man wants to be called sweet. The sweet guy is the best friend of the dude who gets the girl. Everybody who watches movies knows that.”

  “That depends. Sometimes the sweet guy has a very good chance of gettin’ the girl.”

  “He does?” Zach tried to read her expression to see if she was teasing him or not. The light had faded outside and the restaurant was lit by little candles that
cast shadows everywhere.

  “I’d say so.” She drained her wineglass and put it down carefully on the table. “I’ve been under a lot of stress lately, but bein’ with you is the most fun I’ve had in a long, long time.”

  “Then I’m glad I suggested this.”

  “Life’s not so fun when you don’t like yourself very much. Sometimes I don’t know if people really are disapproving of me or if I’m projecting my own feelings onto them. But I’ve never sensed disapproval from you.”

  “Like I said, it’s not my place to judge.”

  “Yes, but not judging is a neutral position. You go beyond that to offer support to the person with difficulties—namely, me.”

  “Maybe because I know what it’s like to live with regrets, especially for those of us who expect a lot of ourselves.”

  She took a deep breath. “It sucks.”

  “Yeah.”

  She regarded him silently for a moment. “I’ve only known you for a little while, but I think we have a lot in common. The lawyer thing took me by surprise, but now it makes even more sense that we click.”

  “Yeah.” He grimaced. “Rotten timing for two people to click.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  He looked into her eyes, and his breath caught as he recognized longing...and heat. Oh, yeah, lust simmered just beneath the surface, and he responded, despite himself. A wise man would look away, pick up his wineglass, change the topic.

  But he’d been a fool for less important things. His heart pumped faster. “Or maybe it’s the perfect time.” He reached across the table and took her hand. She sucked in a breath. Clasping her hand between both of his, he massaged her soft skin. “If you could have anything you wanted right now, what would it be?”

  “Oh, Zach. Don’t ask me that.”

  “I am asking. Tell me.”

  She took a shaky breath. “I would love...a break from all of this drama...with someone who’s not a part of it.”

  “Like me.” His body warmed, tightened.

  “Yes, but—”

  “I can do that. Let me give you that tonight.”

  Her eyes glowed with excitement for a brief second, and then she closed them and shook her head. “I don’t want to make another mistake.”