Wild Wyoming Nights

by Joanne Rock

  But Logan King had worked with Antonio on a film abroad. She remembered reading about it in the Hollywood tabloids. Her mother’s apartment was always full of them, her conversations dotted with references to film and television personalities—especially the ones who stopped by the Ventura residence while Jane was working.

  Emma had always thought it peculiar that her mother would choose to continue in the employ of a man who’d once been her lover. A man who’d broken her heart. Emma’s counselor had suggested maybe it was a way for Jane to remain close to him. To feel like she was a part of his life.

  Remembering that made Emma breathe a bit easier about her night with Carson, at least. She’d moved on from Austin—completely. Being with Carson tonight had proven that.

  Taking a deep breath, she texted Carson back.

  Of course Scarlett can have my number. Is there anything I can do to help with your stepmother? I’m sorry to hear she’s not improving.

  She waited a moment, wondering how she could help. But he responded quickly.

  No, but thank you. Rest up from your big day. Hours on horseback can be tiring when you’re not used to it. I’ll check in with you in the morning.

  He was a thoughtful, good man to think of her comfort when his own family was dealing with so much. It would be easy to fall for him.

  Lying back down on the bed, Emma tried not to think about that. About how incredible the night had been. Instead, she deleted all of her mother’s messages, refusing to get caught up in them. She scheduled a message to go out at nine o’clock in the morning, to avoid an all-night text fest with her mother, who often had trouble sleeping. Emma wrote a few sentences about how much she loved the job and how beautiful the scenery was in Wyoming. She ended with a quick line of assurance she’d visit when she returned home.

  Done.

  She wondered if she’d hear from Scarlett tonight. It gave Emma an uneasy feeling to know that Scarlett had gone to LA to look for a blackmailer and suddenly had questions about the family that had been a part of Emma’s life for as long as she could remember. A shadowy part, yes. But she’d spent time in the Ventura home, occasionally helping her mother clean. Emma had taken those long-ago riding lessons at their stables, in fact.

  Now, closing her eyes once again, Emma breathed deeply to catch the scent of Carson in his T-shirt. She tucked her nose into the ribbed neckline, rubbing her cheek along the seam, remembering his touch. But the sweet dreams of what they’d shared seemed out of reach with a new fear creeping closer.

  What if she never experienced another night like this one? Never felt a touch to rival Carson McNeill’s? Because if that was true—and she feared it could be—maybe she couldn’t afford to waste the rest of her time in Cheyenne being scared of what he made her feel.

  * * *

  Scarlett was alone with Logan for the first time since they’d touched down in LA.

  No doubt she was a little nervous about that, but that was only part of the reason she was texting her brother for the twentieth time to try to get an update on what was going on back home. Yes, she was trying to distract herself from the prospect of being in Logan’s Malibu home for the night. But also, how could Carson be so stingy with details?

  She sat in a bright turquoise chair in the midcentury modern living room at Logan’s place on the beach, the long fireplace beside her taking the chill out of the air from the breeze blowing off the Pacific. The whole living space opened onto an outdoor patio, with what must be stunning views of the water during the daytime. But now, well after midnight, she only had the salty scent of the air and a few boats bobbing off shore to clue her in to the massive ocean crashing on the rocks below.

  “Let’s go sit outside,” Logan urged her for the second time, his fingers grazing her arm lightly as he stood near her chair. He’d been the consummate gentleman all evening, taking her to one of the best restaurants in the city for dinner and then making good on his promise to find the guy who gave her the blackmail note.

  Except the mystery man had apparently skipped town, according to Logan’s bartender source at the club where it had all gone down. But they’d learned his name was Ron and he used to work as a groom for the Ventura family stables.

  Or so he claimed. No one had seen him around the club in the last week, and the bartender had overheard the guy tell someone else at the bar that he was going to Belize. All of which Scarlett had texted to Carson. In return, he let her know he’d already broken the news about her mother’s blackmailer to their father.

  “I just want to get a few more answers from my brother.” Scarlett was already texting as fast as her fingers would allow, her skin still humming pleasantly from Logan’s brief touch. Would she be able to resist the attraction? Did she even want to? She hadn’t thought it through, and wasn’t sure she trusted her decision-making power now that the man was so temptingly close. Clearing her throat, she paused and glanced up at her host for the weekend. “Carson said he told Dad about—”

  Breaking off, she remembered she hadn’t told Logan the contents of the blackmail note. He’d asked, but hadn’t pushed her to reveal details. And since she wasn’t sure how much to trust him, she’d been vague.

  “It’s okay,” Logan assured her, his fingers brushing along her shoulder in a gesture meant to comfort. “You don’t have to share specifics. But you’ve put a lot of time into helping your family for the night. You deserve to relax.” His green eyes locked on her, making her stomach flip. “Come outside with me for a minute. Unwind before bed.”

  Her heart skipped a beat.

  Logan had worn a gray suit tonight for dinner, but his jacket had disappeared along with his tie. Those two open buttons on his custom-tailored dress shirt didn’t show off much of him. And yet...to Scarlett’s eyes, he appeared appealingly undone.

  She nodded, leaving her phone on the chair so she wouldn’t be tempted to keep checking for another of Carson’s terse one-liners that told her nothing.

  “You may be the first person in my life who has ever implied there’s such a thing as ‘enough’ time to give to my family.” Scarlett smoothed nervous fingers down her pink skirt embroidered with exotic birds. The green one-shouldered blouse she wore with it fluttered against her skin as they left the shelter of the living area and stepped out onto the stone patio.

  Logan’s hand palmed the small of her back lightly to guide her toward the two big seats positioned to look out over the rocks that led to the beach. Landscape lighting illuminated the path.

  She dropped into one of the cushioned Adirondack chairs. How had she become the focus of this man’s attention when he had his pick of the world’s most beautiful women? Scarlett wouldn’t even register in her own very attractive family if not for the glittery accessories and flashy clothing choices. Whatever it was he saw in her, he had the most flattering way of conveying his interest with his eyes. How they’d followed her all night.

  “I spent my whole childhood scrambling to help my own family stay afloat.” He settled into the chair beside hers, resting his arms on the wide wooden armrests. “Only to have things fall apart in a spectacular way.” Giving her a sidelong glance, he shook his head. “Not that my criminal relations are anything like the McNeills. But I did learn the need to carve out goals that were mine alone.”

  She tipped her face to feel the light mist of ocean spray borne on the wind, wondering what it must be like for Logan to live in this dream home now after being on the run and sometimes homeless with his family.

  “I’m going to do that. Follow my own goals, I mean.” She’d crunched the numbers to prove to her father she’d more than repaid the family for financing her education through the years she’d worked as an assistant to the Black Creek Ranch foreman. “I’m giving my two-week notice at the end of the summer. Then I hope I’ll be able to move in with my friend Lucie who already lives here.” Lucie had relocated to LA from London last year
and worked in casting.

  Maybe it was too late for Scarlett to pursue her own dream of acting. But she’d never know if she didn’t try.

  “Good for you.” Logan’s hand slid closer to where hers rested on her armrest. “And you are welcome to stay here anytime if things don’t work out with your friend. It can be hard to find a place.”

  Surprised by his offer, she turned to gauge his expression and see if he was serious. “You don’t think it would be awkward for you to have an old fling sleeping upstairs when you brought home a hot date?”

  “I’ve been angling hard for you to be my hot date as often as possible.” He sat forward in his seat, swiveling toward her. “But perhaps I need to be clearer about what I want.” He didn’t touch her except where his pinky finger stroked along the top of hers on the armrest.

  Just there.

  She wasn’t sure if it was that simple touch or his words that sent heat licking all over her skin.

  “I—” Her voice cracked. She took another breath and reminded herself that this man had vanished from her life without a word. “You have a funny way of showing it.”

  “So you keep saying. And if you won’t accept my apology and my assurance that it was a mistake, I’m going to ask for a do-over.” He curled his pinky around hers, holding it there. “I want a chance to make things right with you. I had hoped this weekend would be a start—by helping you find that guy who passed you the note.”

  She stared into those green eyes for a long moment while one wave after another broke on the shore below, a soothing sound that lulled her to acquiesce. To wish that what she’d felt with him that one night together hadn’t been a mistake. The heat in his gaze mirrored everything she was feeling.

  “I appreciate that.” She knew it was only a matter of time before Carson’s PI figured out who was harassing her family, and discovering some clues to the identity of the man who’d delivered the threatening message was going to speed things along. “But I have only myself to blame if I make the same mistake twice.”

  The muscle in his jaw flexed. He nodded, rising to his feet.

  “I understand. In that case, I’ll let you get to bed. I know you must be tired.” He offered her his hand and she took it, allowing him to help her to her feet.

  Regret nipped at her that they hadn’t been able to put the past behind them. That she’d clung to evidence of his treachery even though he’d apologized. And explained.

  Was she being petty? Overindulging wounded pride?

  As she walked with him into the living area, she second-guessed herself.

  “Don’t forget your phone.” Logan leaned over the chair where she’d left it earlier and passed the device to her.

  She didn’t bother checking it, too worried she might be screwing up the possibility of an incredible relationship with a man who’d done everything he could to make things right between them.

  He shut down a few of the lights on a post near the stairs and then hit a button to close the living area doors, locking out the sound of the waves for the night.

  Scarlett bit her lip as she followed him up the stairs toward the bedrooms, her chance at salvaging this night fading.

  As they reached the landing, Scarlett stepped in front of him. Placed a hand on his warm chest.

  “Logan?” Nerves trembled through her. But damn it, she didn’t want to lose this chance if she’d been wrong about him.

  “Scarlett.” There was a weary note in his tone, a wariness in his gaze. “Honey, if you’re not ready for more, I think we need to retreat and regroup.” Gently, he bracketed her shoulders.

  And shuffled her aside.

  But that was because he was being gentlemanly, right? She reminded herself she was supposed to be carving out goals of her own, damn it.

  And she wanted this. Him.

  “Consider the hatchet buried.” She stepped in front of him again. Determined. “Also, that the do-over has been granted. And that I’m ready for more.”

  She felt a piece of her wounded heart heal at the way his nostrils flared and his pupils dilated a fraction, the irises becoming a narrow strip of color around the dark centers.

  For a moment, however, he said nothing. He merely stared back at her, breathing hard in the narrow hallway full of bright artwork and tiny spotlights.

  Then, before she could restate her case, Logan stepped toward her. His hands skimmed her waist as his lips closed on hers. He lifted her up, bringing her eye level to kiss her thoroughly, his strong arms banding her to him.

  Just when she’d gone breathless, her thoughts scattering and disappearing, Logan broke the kiss. He leaned back to take her measure, her body melting into his.

  “You’re not going to regret it,” he assured her, his voice a hot vibration against her ear as he opened the door to a bedroom. “Not for a second. Not ever.”

  She ignored the warning voice inside that reminded her that was what she’d hoped the first time. Because if Scarlett ever wanted to start over—to reinvent her life and sense of purpose—she wasn’t going to second-guess herself anymore.

  Ten

  Carson urged his mount forward through a thicket, determined to find Emma after his long night spent at his father’s house. Tracking down his houseguest wasn’t as simple as joining her for breakfast in the kitchen, however. His housekeeper had told him Emma went to the stables. One of the grooms had shown him the general direction she’d ridden.

  But in the end, Carson had needed to text Dax to pinpoint her exact location.

  Now, with afternoon approaching and the sun disappearing behind the storm clouds moving in, Carson finally saw her with his own eyes as he broke through the tree line. In the distance, a slim figure in black running shorts and a tank top sprinted up a hillside, arms pumping as her hair bounced in a topknot on her head.

  The sight of her there, working with a relentlessness apparent even from this distance, hammered home to him how driven she was.

  Or, perhaps, how deeply wounded.

  As much as he wanted to believe that Emma’s workouts were a way for her to stay on top of her profession, a part of him wondered if it was more a need to prove her physical strength. Did old fears spur her to be stronger just in case she needed to protect herself again? Catching sight of her bodyguard off to one side of the meadow, Carson waved him off, releasing Dax from his protective duty now that Carson had found her.

  A nudge to his horse’s flanks set the bay mare in motion again, faster this time. The animal seemed as eager as Carson for the burst of speed after the tedious pace of searching for the past half hour. Yet Carson’s need to reach Emma’s side was deeper, memories from their night together never far from his mind. He’d wanted to give her space after the way she’d backed off. With their time together so damn brief, however, he found it impossible to stay away today. Especially with a thunderstorm due soon. Did she even realize it was turning darker by the minute?

  By the time Carson reached the base of the hillside, Emma was running down it, her long strides fluid and athletic. She must have noticed him, but her focus remained on the path until she slowed down. Then her gaze went right to him, the expression in her brown eyes concerned.

  “How is your stepmother?” Emma walked in a slow circle, stretching her legs with an occasional lunge. “Is she showing any sign of improvement?”

  Carson swung down from the mare, the need to be closer to Emma drawing him. He dropped the reins to ground tie the animal.

  “Not unless you count the fact that her sedative finally kicked in around seven o’clock this morning.” The time with his father and Paige had been agonizing. “I left so my dad could get some sleep while my stepmom was resting. She’s got a health aide with her for the day, so I’ll be getting updates.”

  Emma stopped in front of him, her forehead damp from her workout, her breathing still fast. A pang of empathy
gripped him hard. No woman should have to run from the kind of demons that haunted her. He had to battle the urge to pull her against him and assure her he’d never let anything happen to her again.

  “What about you?” she asked, her brown eyes tracking his. Her hands fluttered close to his chest, as if she wasn’t sure about touching him. Then, thankfully, they landed there. “Did you get any sleep?”

  A warning rumble of thunder sounded in the distance.

  “Enough.” He didn’t want her to worry, and he had too much on his mind to close his eyes for long. He took her hands in his and lifted them to his mouth, kissing the back of one, then the other. “And it’s not me who was supposed to take it easy today,” he chided gently. “I can’t imagine what your legs feel like after the hours in the saddle the last few days. Especially when you haven’t ridden in years. No amount of exercise can really prepare you for that.”

  A sudden breeze whipped the wisps of hair that had slid free from her topknot.

  “I was sore,” she admitted. “That was half the reason I thought I’d come out here and run. To loosen up.”

  He wanted to get her out of the weather before the storm broke, but something about what she’d said caught his attention. He released her hands to stroke back a glossy lock of her chestnut-colored hair. “Half the reason?”

  “I was also trying to gain some perspective on what happened between us yesterday. And how I felt about that.”

  His mare whinnied anxiously as the sky darkened, a far-off crack of lightning flickering in the mountains.

  But Carson remained rooted to the spot, hating that he’d given Emma any cause for regret. “Emma, my whole life I’ve been the reckless one in my family. But with you, I swear I tried my best to be careful. To go slow.”

  “And you were careful. Absolutely.” She fidgeted, freeing the knot in her hair, letting the wavy mass blow in the wind while slipping the pink band around her wrist like a bracelet. “I was the one who rushed things, so that’s on me.” She peered up at the sky as another clap of thunder sounded. “And it’s pretty clear that I’m the reckless one, since I didn’t even look at the weather before I jogged out here.”