by Sydney Logan
“Let’s find the girls and get the hell out of here.”
Coop nods in agreement, and we push our way through the crowd. You’d assume our girls would stick out in a room full of Daisy Dukes, but no such luck.
“Text her,” I tell him, just as The Devil Went Down to Georgia erupts from the jukebox. The room explodes with cheers.
“Must be their national anthem,” Coop mutters.
I chuckle and continue scanning the room. Suddenly, a flash of flaming red hair catches my eye from on top of the bar. And then blonde.
“Found them.”
Coop’s head jerks up. “Holy crap.”
It’s suddenly clear why we couldn’t pick them out of the crowd. In their skin-tight jeans, boots, and cowboy hats, they’re dressed like nearly every other woman in the place. Their flannel shirts are tied right above their belly buttons, and their top buttons are almost all completely undone. I can’t deny the cleavage is nice, but Jenna York in a cowboy hat is quite possibly the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.
Frozen in place, Coop and I watch as the girls do some kind of wicked line dance on the bar. They stomp and kick to the rhythm of Charlie Daniels, and it’s impossible for either of us to tear our eyes away as a crowd gathers around them.
When the song ends, the men cheer and our girls high-five each other. I look down just in time to see two drunk guys tug on the girls’ legs, pulling them forward and nearly causing them to fall. Coop and I move at the same time, and without realizing the stupidity of our actions, proceed to punch both men in the face.
“Summers!”
I hear Jenna’s voice through the deafening noise. The man crumples to the ground, and my fist continues slamming into his face until I’m satisfied I’ve broken his nose. I’m feeling pretty good about the fact that I don’t have a scratch on me . . . until I’m suddenly lifted by the back of my shirt. The next thing I know, I’m tossed out the swinging doors and eating Georgia dirt.
Jenna’s suddenly there, kneeling next to me. “Are you insane? You’re lucky you didn’t get yourself shot!”
“He was touching you.”
“So?”
“So he shouldn’t be touching you.” I stand up and dust myself off. Red dirt? What kind of place has red dirt? “You could show a little appreciation. I just defended your honor and got thrown out of a bar for you.”
Her face softens and she steps a little closer. “Did he hurt you?”
“Not a scratch.”
I am a little sore from the stupid redneck bouncer tossing me like a rag doll, but the pain’s easy to ignore with Jenna standing so close to me. She’s always gorgeous, but the skin-tight jeans and unbuttoned blouse are kind of killing me.
And the hat. Can’t forget the hat.
“You look really hot in that cowboy hat.”
Jenna laughs. “You were tossed out of a bar and you still have the energy to flirt with me.”
“It’s a gift.”
She laughs again, but then her expression changes.
“He could have killed you, Ethan.”
“But he didn’t.” We’re nearly touching now, and it’s funny how my fingers literally itch to touch her. She tilts her face toward mine, and I gaze into her big brown eyes before letting my own flicker to her mouth.
“Hey, lovebirds,” Coop’s voice shatters the moment. “They’ve called the sheriff. It’s probably best we blow this popsicle stand.”
We step away from each other. Jenna’s eyes cloud with disappointment, and I wonder if she can see the same regret in mine.
Thank God for Coop.
My hands grip the steering wheel as we race down the highway. Ethan’s pouting in the passenger seat, while Abby tends to Coop’s wounds in the back. I didn’t see a scratch on either of them, but Abby swears she saw a speck of blood above Coop’s left eyebrow. I don’t know how she can tell. His shaggy blonde hair always hides his face.
“Does that hurt, baby?”
“A little bit.”
I’m pretty sure both Ethan and I roll our eyes. I can’t be sure since I refuse to look at him.
Abby sighs. “Such gentlemen. Aren’t they something, Jenna?”
“They’re something, all right.”
Ethan grumbles about unappreciative women as I pull into the motel’s parking lot.
“What is this place?” he asks.
“We’ve been staying here.” I turn off the ignition and turn toward the backseat. “I assume the two of you will be sharing a room tonight?”
Abby and Coop both give me pathetic puppy dog expressions.
Ethan snorts. “Good assumption.”
I finally force myself to look at him. “Shut up and go get us a room.”
“You heard the woman,” Coop says with a laugh. “Go get the two of you a room.”
“ROOMS! You a room and me a room. Two rooms. Got it?”
Ethan smirks. “Two rooms. Got it.”
He climbs out of the car and makes his way toward the manager’s office. I lean my head back and close my eyes. I’ve nearly dozed off when I hear soft moans coming from the backseat. I sneak a glimpse in my rearview mirror and immediately wish I hadn’t.
“Seriously? You can’t wait five minutes?”
With a disgusted sigh, I get out and angrily slam the door. I’m impatiently pacing the parking lot when Ethan returns.
“So, I have good news and bad news.”
I sigh.
“Good news is I have a room.” He smiles and waves the little key in his hand.
“Super. Where’s mine?”
“See, that’s the bad news.” His cocky grin makes me want to slap him and kiss him at the same time. “It seems this little hole-in-the-wall only has the one room available.”
I look around. The parking lot contains one car, and it belongs to us. The guys had left their rental at the bar.
“You know, I find that really hard to believe.”
Ethan shrugs. “You’re free to go check with the manager. Her name’s Sally. Really sweet lady.”
I glare at him. “I’ll sleep in my car before I sleep in the same room with you.”
A slow smile creeps across his handsome face. “You’re afraid you won’t be able to keep your hands to yourself. I understand. I really do.”
“Is that a challenge?”
“Maybe.” Ethan dangles the key in front of me. “Care to prove me wrong?”
I quickly snatch it out of his hand.
“There may be only one room, but you’d better pray for two beds. Otherwise, your smug ass will be sleeping on the floor tonight.”
“You are such a cheater.”
“And you’re such a whiner.”
We’re so competitive we actually race each other to the door.
Once we’re inside, we both scan the tiny room. The motel isn’t the worst place I’ve ever stayed—it’s clean and doesn’t smell—but it’s a far cry from my Mexican resort. There’s a television and small fridge.
And a bed.
One.
Singular.
I look at Ethan.
He smirks.
Not a chance.
I toss my duffel onto the mattress. “I won, Summers. Hate it for ya.”
“Are you seriously going to make me sleep on the floor?”
“I seriously am.”
He looks down at the shag carpet with a pained expression on his face. I feel a twinge of guilt.
“Look, Ethan, I think the two of us sharing a bed would be a very bad idea.”
“See, I disagree. I personally think it would be the best idea ever. Epic, even.”
He steps closer, and I step back. Because the universe hates me, I find myself sandwiched between him and a wall. His smile widens as he reaches up and pulls off my cowboy hat.
“This hat is very sexy. You really are gorgeous. Have I ever told you that?”
“I am not sleeping with you.”
He pretends to pout, but I know better. The man thinks he can
totally put the moves on me. But I’m determined to stand firm. Even if it kills me.
Which it might.
He doesn’t put up a fight when I push him away and reach for my bag. Unzipping it, I search until I find something decent to wear. Without a word, I slip into the bathroom and splash water on my face before changing into a long-sleeved T-shirt and sweatpants. A quick glance in the mirror assures me that I am far, far from sexy. With a satisfied nod, I walk back into the room to find Summers propped up against the headboard, flipping through the channels.
“Make yourself at home, why don’t ya?”
“Thanks. I think I will.”
I roll my eyes.
“Need I remind you that I was just tossed out of a bar for you? Have some sympathy, York.”
With a tired groan, I walk toward the bed. I notice he’s changed, too, into a gray sweatshirt with a big orange T on the chest.
“You like staring at me, don’t you?”
“Shut up.” I climb into bed and prop myself up against the pillows. I’m careful to stay on my side of the bed. “I was just wondering if you went to school there.”
He looks down. “At the University of Tennessee? Yeah, for a semester. I wasn’t really college material.”
“Imagine that.”
Ethan continues flipping through the channels. “Leno or Letterman?”
“Umm . . . how long has it been since you watched late-night television? Leno is now Jimmy Fallon.”
“Okay . . .”
“But I’d really prefer Nick at Nite.”
He sighs and flips through the channels until The Fresh Prince appears on the screen.
“Oh, you’re right. This is much better.”
I grin and snuggle my head against the pillow. Ethan keeps his eyes on the TV, giving me the perfect opportunity to stare. I’d never really noticed his long eyelashes, but the dimples in his cheeks have been featured in my dreams more than once. He’s hot. Handsome, even. And sparks do tend to fly whenever we’re around each other, but he’s dangerous. So am I. Keeping our distance is definitely the right thing to do.
Right?
Suddenly, a buzzing cell phone interrupts my mental tug-of-war. Ethan utters a curse before reaching toward the nightstand.
“Someone important?”
He looks down at the screen. “My mother. She never knows which time zone I’m in, so she sends me messages at all hours of the night. That’s the third text today. She’s thrilled I’m coming home. Can’t wait to see me. She promises to bake. Yada yada.
I smile. “She sounds sweet.”
“She is. I’m a gigantic disappointment, but she still loves me.”
“You’re headed home?”
“Yeah, Coop needs a vacation.”
“Abby said the same thing.”
With a nod, Ethan turns his head toward me. “What will you do?”
“I’m going home, too. Time to see Dad, I guess.”
We’ve never really talked about our families. I know we’re both from the South, but we’ve never discussed the details.
“Where’s home?”
I wrinkle my nose. “Strawberry Flatts, Kentucky. Population fifteen.”
“Fifteen?” He laughs loudly. “Little town, huh?”
I grin. Honestly, there are probably a little more than two hundred people living in my small hometown. Strawberry Flatts is an old coal-mining town deep in the hills of Kentucky. It’s a good place to hide, as long as you don’t go into town. It’s definitely the kind of place where everybody knows your name.
Especially when you’re the former sheriff’s daughter.
Ethan laughs and laughs when I give him this piece of information.
“My wanted poster showed up on his desk. It kind of forced him into early retirement. He knows what I do. He doesn’t approve, obviously, but my dad’s always been a little too understanding where I’m concerned. I try not to take advantage of that, so I stay away as much as I can.”
“I bet you miss him.”
“All the time. But it’s better this way.” I take a deep breath and force a smile. “So what about you? Am I to assume from your college of choice that you’re from the Volunteer state?”
Ethan nods. “Born and bred in Nashville. Dad’s a surgeon. Mom’s a child psychologist. Like I said, I’m an epic disappointment. Dad expected me to follow in his footsteps. I made it through one semester before it became painfully obvious that medicine or anything related to it just wasn’t for me. My grades were good, but being a doctor wasn’t the kind of responsibility I wanted for the rest of my life.”
Throughout the conversation, our bodies have drifted closer. I pretend not to notice.
“So how did you end up with Coop?”
“My parents cut me off once I dropped out of school. I found a job at a sports bar. There was a casino in the back, and Coop was one of the blackjack dealers. He’d recently moved there from Oklahoma City. Coop would never double-cross the regular customers because he knew they were just like him—living paycheck to paycheck and trying to survive. But we’d get the occasional out-of-town businessman who thought the little hole-in-the-wall casino was his for the taking. Coop would rob him blind. It was fascinating to watch. One night, I offered to drive Coop home. He lived in this dilapidated shack, and it pissed me off that this brilliant con artist was living in such a rat hole.”
“Where were his parents?”
“They both died when he was fourteen. Car accident. He lived with his sister until he started conning. Then he moved out on his own. He didn’t want her to be involved, you know?”
I nod. “So you teamed up?”
Ethan smiles at the memory. “Yeah. From that moment on, we decided we were too smart to live such shitty lives. We started small—hustling pool and counting cards—but we slowly graduated to larger cities and bigger operations. It wasn’t long until we had a reputation. Of course, we were constantly being compared to these two hot female con artists that kept beating us to jobs.”
I laugh.
“And what about Gabe? How’d you meet him?”
Ethan smiles. “The man’s a complete card shark. He learned how to deal blackjack on a Memphis riverboat. Eventually, he headed to the casinos in Monte Carlo, which is where we met him. It was the only time I’ve ever seen Coop lose to the house. He wanted to pick Gabe’s brain, so we introduced ourselves, and we spent the rest of the weekend playing cards in one of the casino’s hotel rooms.”
I grin. What a great story.
“How did he become your pilot?”
“Gabe had been in the business a long time, and he’d made a lot of friends . . . and enemies. A man can only take so many close calls, you know? He was ready to retire. He’d just earned his pilot’s license, so he wanted to get out of the business, buy himself a plane, and blow his hard-earned money. I’d been thinking about buying a jet, anyway, so I offered him a job as my pilot. I knew his contacts would come in handy, and they have. But more than that, he’s the one person in this world, besides Coop, that I know I can trust with my life.”
We fall into this comfortable quiet where we rest our heads on our pillows and stare at each other. It should be awkward, but it’s not.
“ You know, we almost kissed tonight,” he says.
“Almost, yeah. Your best friend saved us from making a huge mistake.”
Ethan slides a little closer to me, and the close proximity of his body makes me a little dizzy.
“But would it really have been a mistake?” His gaze darts to my lips. “I mean, maybe if we gave in—just once—we’d get it out of our systems.”
Foolishly, stupidly, I moisten my bottom lip with the tip of my tongue. His breath hitches, his body drifts closer, and for a moment, I let myself consider the possibility he may be right.
My fingertips trail across her porcelain skin, and I try to contain my enthusiasm as our faces drift closer. Kissing Jenna York is a fantasy of mine—something that’s haunted my dreams for ye
ars. Her lips are pale pink and totally kissable. She may never let me this close again, so I brace my hand on her hip and pull her closer. Any moment now, she’ll remember she hates me, and she’ll jump out of this bed and bolt from the room.
I’m convinced this is exactly what we need. One kiss. That’s all it’ll take to satisfy our curiosity. She’d deny it to the death, but I know she’s curious, too. If not, she wouldn’t be lying here, and she certainly wouldn’t be breathing heavily.
Her big brown eyes grow heavy, and I let my mouth brush across her cheek.
Suddenly, a thunderous knock pounds on the door. Jenna jumps. I curse and hold on to her a little tighter.
“Ethan . . .”
“Ignore them.”
Nothing is keeping me from kissing this girl tonight. Whoever’s standing outside that door will have to erupt into flames before I even consider getting out of this bed.
“It could be Abby and Coop. It might be important.”
I’m just about to scream that it can’t possibly be more important than this, but the knocking becomes urgent. Jenna twists out of my arms, jumps out of bed, and tiptoes toward the door.
“It’s the hotel manager,” she whispers.
“Get back into this bed.” My voice is nearly a growl. I don’t care if it’s the Georgia governor offering us a pardon.
“What could she want?”
“Who cares? I swear, York, if you don’t get back into this bed . . .”
Jenna rolls her eyes.
“You’re ridiculous, you know that? I told you I wasn’t having sex with you tonight.”
The girl makes me crazy. “Sex? Who’s talking about sex? I’d be satisfied with a kiss, but it seems the universe is completely against that ever happening!”
“Maybe the universe is smarter than we are!” We’re both still whispering, despite the incessant knocking. Jenna’s whispers are just louder and angrier than mine. “Get your ass out of bed and see what she wants!”
I throw back the covers and stomp toward the door. “I can’t wait to get the hell out of Georgia.”
“That makes two of us. Now get rid of her!”
Jenna runs to the bathroom while I angrily twist the dead bolt and jerk the door open.
