The Last Cowboy Standing

by Barbara Dunlop

“I don’t even have a boyfriend.”

  “You will someday. Save them. Put them away.”

  “I’m not dressing up like a floozy. What if they end up on the internet?”

  “There’s no chance of that,” said the woman. “We give you a glossy copy of your favorite shots, and you keep the original memory card. We don’t keep a single record here.”

  “Come on,” Katrina cajoled. “It’ll be a blast.”

  “I’m way too shy,” Danielle protested.

  “You are not. Besides, they can be romantic. They don’t have to be naughty.”

  “This is ridiculous,” said Danielle.

  Maybe if she had someone to surprise. Maybe if she had...

  Her brain flashed an image of Travis, but she determinedly shook it away.

  “You’re not getting any younger,” said Katrina.

  “Excuse me?”

  “You’ll have a boyfriend again. Of course you’ll have a boyfriend again. And probably soon. And if it’s not soon, and if you’re getting kind of old and wrinkly, I bet he’ll want to see pictures of you when you were young and hot.”

  “I’m not getting old that fast.” Then again, would she want to do this when she was older? Not that she was saying she wanted to do it now.

  “When are you going to have a chance like this again?” asked Katrina.

  “Our photographers are the top of their field,” noted the woman behind the desk. “The pictures can be very tasteful. You pick the costumes yourself. And each customer can choose four pieces of lingerie that are yours to keep. We have the latest and most luxurious lines.”

  “My treat,” said Katrina, handing the woman her credit card.

  “Really, I can’t,” said Danielle.

  The woman accepted the credit card. “We have an extraordinarily high level of customer satisfaction.”

  “Ring it through,” urged Katrina.

  “Do you have anything in flannel?” asked Danielle.

  “No, but we have some full-length, satin nighties. I tell you what,” said the woman, swiping Katrina’s card. “If you’re not completely satisfied, we’ll destroy the memory card and I’ll refund Mrs. Terrell’s money.”

  Danielle couldn’t quite find an argument for that, and she found herself agreeing.

  In the end, she had an astonishingly good time. They started with a makeup artist and a hairdresser, before moving into the clothing store.

  The studio provided complimentary champagne, which they drank while joking their way through lacy baby-dolls, slips and camisoles. Katrina braved a low-cut, black push-up bra and a pair of tiny panties. In the end, Danielle threw caution to the wind and modeled a magenta teddy, with gold, satin trim and mesh cut-outs across her middle. She paired it with black stockings and her new jeweled shoes.

  “We have got to find you a boyfriend,” said Katrina as they gazed at the photo proofs, selecting ten for immediate printout.

  Danielle hesitated over one of the magenta teddy pictures. She was turned slightly to one side, her hair looking soft and sexy, her eyes bright, smile provocative, the angle hinting at the curve of her hip and her behind.

  Katrina nudged her in the arm. “Don’t be so shy. The camera loves you. I sometimes wear less than that when I dance.”

  “You’re the one the camera loves,” said Danielle, switching her attention to the pictures of Katrina. There was a reason audiences adored her as a prima ballerina.

  “We’re both pretty hot.”

  Though Danielle might be reluctant to admit it, she was surprisingly happy with the pictures. The photographer had known just how to capture her best looks. The lighting was soft, and her skin seemed to glow.

  Katrina took over the mouse and dragged the magenta teddy shot into Danielle’s print basket. “There, that’s ten.”

  “I can’t believe that’s me,” Danielle admitted.

  “Well, I sure can.” Katrina straightened. “Let’s go find ourselves some dinner.”

  The photographer packaged their prints and handed each of them their memory cards. Danielle secured everything in her shoulder bag, and they headed back to the limo.

  * * *

  After a fabulous dinner, and a late night of girl talk with Katrina, the limo driver pulled up to the front doors of the Emperor Plaza.

  “Don’t worry about the bags, ma’am,” the driver instructed as he helped Katrina out of the car.

  “Welcome back,” greeted a uniformed porter, smiling at both women. “We’ll be happy to deliver your packages.”

  “Room thirty-four sixteen,” said Katrina.

  “And your name, ma’am?”

  “Katrina Terrell.” She pointed. “Those five are mine. The others can go to Danielle Marin’s room.”

  “Eighteen twenty-two,” Danielle added.

  “We’ll take care of it. Have a good night, ladies.”

  They thanked the limo driver and made their way into the brightly lit lobby.

  “They’re in the Ace High Lounge,” said Katrina.

  “Who?”

  “Reed and the rest of the guys.”

  “You’re not going near that place, are you?” Danielle had no desire to go anywhere near a bachelor party at midnight.

  “It’s my husband, my brother-in-law and two brothers.”

  “And thirty-five other men.”

  “Who won’t dare look at us sideways.”

  “What do you mean us?”

  “Come on.” Katrina studied a brass sign. She pointed down a hallway. “This way.”

  “I’m tired,” Danielle protested. She was. “I want to go to bed.”

  Katrina linked her arm and tugged her forward. “Too bad. You have to come and keep me company.”

  “Who says?”

  “I say. And I just paid for your sexy pictures.”

  “I thought we agreed never to speak of them again.” Danielle wanted to get them safely locked away as soon as possible. She was beginning to worry about carrying them through airport security. What if someone searched her luggage? How embarrassing would that be?

  Katrina laughed, still tugging her along the hallway. “Your secret’s safe with me. Come on. You owe me.”

  “I paid for dinner,” Danielle pointed out, but she gave up and kept walking.

  “Aren’t you at all curious?”

  “About what men do at bachelor parties?” asked Danielle. “I honestly don’t want to know.”

  “Maybe someone jumped out of a cake.”

  “I hope not. That’s so eighties.”

  “I’m sure they kept it tasteful.”

  “Travis did the planning.”

  “Good point. This might be more exciting than I thought. Here we are.”

  Danielle hesitated. If it turned out there were strippers in there, it was going to be mortifiying.

  Before they could pull on the door, it opened from the inside, loud music thumping from the depths of the dim room. Caleb appeared, jerking back in obvious surprise at the sight of them.

  “Katrina. Danielle.” He gave a wide grin. “What are you guys doing here?” It was subtle, but his speech was measured, as if he was being careful to properly enunciate his words.

  The door swung shut behind him.

  “Having a good party?” asked Katrina.

  “Fantastic,” he responded. “You want me to get Reed?”

  “We want to find out what’s going on inside,” said Katrina.

  “No, we don’t,” said Danielle.

  “You always were the smart one,” Caleb said to Danielle.

  “Thank you.”

  “What’s going on in there?” asked Katrina.

  “We’re drinking DFB beer and watching a game.” />
  “Are you drunk?” asked Katrina.

  “I am not.”

  “Is Reed drunk?”

  “Reed doesn’t get drunk.”

  The door opened again, bashing into Caleb’s shoulder and sending him stumbling.

  This time, it was Travis who appeared.

  “Danielle,” he grinned heartily. “You’re back.”

  “We’ve been shopping,” said Katrina.

  “So, I heard, baby sister.”

  “And out for dinner,” she continued.

  Danielle held her breath, fearing Katrina might mention the pictures. But the door opened again, and Reed joined them.

  He zeroed in on Katrina. “Hey, sweetheart.” He moved to stand next to her, putting a hand on the small of her back and giving her a quick kiss on the temple. “Did you have a good time?”

  “It was great. I got you a birthday present.”

  Danielle stilled, bracing herself. She couldn’t help a fleeting glance at Travis, and found herself shifting from one foot to the other.

  “What did you get me?” asked Reed.

  “Oh, no,” Katrina teased, waggling a finger. “Not until your birthday.”

  “Yeah?” he growled on a challenging note.

  “Yeah,” she responded saucily.

  “We’ll see about that.” He looped an arm around her shoulders. “Good night, boys,” he called to Travis and Caleb, as he steered her down the hall.

  Their departure spurred Danielle to action. “I’ll say good-night as well,” she told Caleb, glancing briefly to Travis as she backed away.

  “We can talk tomorrow,” said Caleb.

  The words brought Danielle to a halt. “Were you looking for me today?”

  She and Caleb had met briefly when he arrived Thursday night. But she’d understood he was going to be busy all day. At least that’s what Katrina told her. Now she realized she’d never actually checked with Caleb.

  Caleb shook his head. “I’d have called you. Tomorrow’s fine.”

  “Okay,” Danielle nodded, relieved. “I’ll be there.”

  “I’m done, too,” said Travis, breaking away from his brother, and coming up next to Danielle.

  Her stomach gave an involuntary quiver of excitement.

  Caleb glanced back at the closed door. “Yeah,” he agreed. “I think the party’s winding down.” He started forward.

  Reed and Katrina were far ahead in the lobby, disappearing around the central fountain.

  “Thanks for entertaining Katrina,” said Caleb. “I know Reed appreciates it.”

  Danielle gave a short laugh. “Katrina entertained me. I feel like I’ve been playing hooky all day long.”

  “You put in way too many hours,” said Caleb.

  “A lot of lawyers put in more hours than I do.”

  She couldn’t help thinking about Randal and the others at Nester and Hedley. How hard did they work? What was the pace like in D.C.?

  “I’m in the north tower,” said Caleb, pointing to an elevator sign, and turning toward the hallway. “’Night.”

  “Good night,” Danielle called after him.

  She and Travis walked a few feet in silence.

  “I’m west,” she told him.

  “I know.”

  She remembered he’d walked her to the elevators that first night.

  “How was the bachelor day?” she asked.

  “No insurance claims from the dune buggy races,” he said, reminding her of the policy she’d reviewed for him yesterday.

  “That’s good news. Who won?”

  “Alex.”

  Danielle gave him a suspicious look. “The groom? Was the fix in?”

  “Maybe a little. Reed and I rocked at paintball. We took it for the yellow team.”

  Danielle couldn’t help but smile at the pride in his voice. “First the bull riding, and now paintball. There’s just no stopping you, is there?”

  “No, ma’am, there is not.” There was a wry note in his voice, as he reached out to press the call button for the west tower elevators.

  Two older women joined them waiting.

  “You don’t need to wait for the car,” said Danielle.

  “My suite’s up there, too.”

  Six

  The middle elevator car pinged, the red up arrow lighting. Three men strode with them into the elevator, along with the two older ladies. Danielle pressed eighteen and moved into a corner, while Travis pressed thirty-four, the top floor, and shifted to stand beside her.

  One of the three men took a lingering, visual tour of her white slacks and blue tank top. She ignored him, but Travis stepped in front of her, lifting his chin and folding his arms across his chest.

  She couldn’t help but smile at the gesture. For some reason it sent a shot of warmth through her chest. It was gentlemanly, she told herself, kind of sweetly old-fashioned.

  The men filed out on the fourteenth floor, and she stepped out from behind Travis, smiling and shaking her head. “You didn’t have to—” As she moved farther, her shoulder bag snagged on the elevator rail, jerking out of her hand, clattering upside down to the floor.

  Danielle swore. Travis turned at the sound. And the two older ladies stared at the items bouncing on the floor.

  Travis crouched to help, while Danielle scooped up her wallet and cell phone, snagged a makeup bag, her keys and a hand mirror. She stuffed them into the open bag, checking the floor to make sure nothing more embarrassing had slipped out.

  Then she realized Travis had gone still. She twisted her neck to look at him, freezing in horror when she saw the envelope in his hands. Her boudoir photos had fallen halfway out, and he was staring, eyes wide, at the magenta teddy photo on the top of the stack.

  He rose, silently sliding the photos back into the envelope and refolding the flap.

  Danielle couldn’t speak. She couldn’t look at him. The embarrassing shot scuttled through her brain. It was her worst nightmare come true.

  He handed her the envelope as the elevator pinged on the eighteenth floor. But, before she could exit, his hand wrapped around her upper arm.

  The women glanced at her in puzzlement.

  His grip wasn’t tight. She could have easily pulled away, darted for the door, escaped and left town, finding a way to never, ever face him again.

  But she didn’t. She complied with his unspoken request.

  The door slid shut, and the elevator rose.

  While they moved, Danielle turned hot, then cold, then hot again.

  The doors opened on twenty-three, and the two women got off. Travis kept hold of her arm. He stayed silent until the doors had shut completely.

  When he spoke, his voice was guttural. “Tell me they’re not for Randal.”

  The question surprised her so much, she forgot to answer.

  “Tell me,” he repeated with an edge of desperation.

  “They’re not for Randal,” she quickly told him. “They’re not for anybody. They were a lark, a silly, stupid idea that I regret already.”

  He nodded sharply. His hand slipped from her arm. “Okay.”

  That was it? One word? What did he mean?

  The elevator pinged on thirty-four, the doors opening yet again.

  Travis crossed the car. He pressed eighteen again then moved through the doorway.

  Danielle’s knees went weak with relief, or maybe it was disappointment. She couldn’t quite pinpoint which.

  But then he stopped. The doors started to shut, but he stuck his arm out to block them. He turned fully around, gaze intense, seeming to drink in the sight of her and swallow it whole.

  “I’ve tried so damn hard to ignore this,” he rasped.

  Heat and desir
e washed over her again. She told herself to shut up. She told herself to stay still and let it pass.

  “So have I,” she confessed in a small voice.

  He didn’t move. He waited.

  Her stomach contracted. Her blood pounded in her ears. She struggled to suck in oxygen.

  Stay put, her logical brain ordered.

  There was absolutely no mistaking the hunger in his expression. His eyes were dark, his jaw clenched tight. His entire body seemed poised to pounce.

  If she moved, she was done for. They were done for. If she took one step toward him, she’d be in his bed in minutes. And nothing would ever be the same between them again.

  She moved one foot, and then the other. In seconds, she was out the door and into the hallway.

  He turned beside her, released the door, silently took her hand in his and made his way along the short hallway.

  Neither spoke as he swiped his key card in the double doors at the end. One door swung open, soft music greeting them, warm air, thick carpets, soft lighting, scented oil wafting through a richly appointed living room.

  They walked inside, and the door clicked shut behind them. Astonishingly, her trepidation disappeared. Her uncertainty and fear vanished. She knew she was right where she wanted to be. She was alone with Travis at last, and all the reasons to keep her distance seemed to evaporate into thin air.

  He turned to face her, his own expression relaxing. He smiled gently, blue eyes softening in the dim light. He smoothed back her hair. And with the opposite hand, he twined their fingers together.

  “You are so incredibly beautiful,” he whispered.

  “How did this happen?” she breathed, wondering if this might be a dream.

  “My guess is good genes and healthy living.”

  She couldn’t help but smile.

  His own smile faded, his gaze zeroing in on her lips, his hand moving to cradle her cheek.

  “I’m about to kiss you,” he warned.

  “I’m about to kiss you back.”

  “You promise?”

  “I promise.”

  He leaned in, voice deep and low. “This is going to be fun.”

  Her laughter was quickly lost in the touch of his lips. They were smooth, firm and hot. He smelled of male musk, tasted of smoky scotch whiskey. He deepened the kiss, and she welcomed him in.