“Logan,” she moaned, because her resistance was getting dangerously low and it was dirty pool to flirt with her when they’d slept in each other arms. Her body was still tuned to his, her senses imprinted with his scent and warmth.
“Have I told you how grateful I am?”
“Grateful?” She looked at him suspiciously, certain this was just a new ploy to get inside her jeans.
“Yeah...grateful I found you on that tree house. I could have been bored out of my skull right now, instead of having so much fun.”
“Oh.” Merrie felt ridiculously pleased. “Even though I nearly burned down the house?”
“Even though.” He kissed her mouth...a light, nibbling kiss that made her hungry for more.
“Not that I meant to burn anything.”
“I know,” Logan soothed. The ache in his groin demanded release, yet he’d never enjoyed a kiss so much. “You were trying to help Lianne.”
“She’s very, uh, sweet,” Merrie murmured. “Lots nicer than me. And she’s not dumb, she just has terrible judgment about men. Of course, I don’t know that my judgment is any better.”
Logan hesitated. No matter what Merrie said, she was acting different this morning. She didn’t always meet his eyes and she seemed nervous. It was a subtle change, but definite.
He forced a grin. “Thanks for the vote of confidence. At the moment, I happen to think your judgment is terrific. And by the way...I think you’re plenty nice—I like you exactly the way you are.”
“Thank you,” Merrie said between long kisses, and the velvet strokes of his tongue into her mouth.
He cupped his hands over her breasts, lightly rubbing the crowning centers.
Merrie arched, gasping at the sensation. Each time it was better. She wanted his touch... his mouth on her nipples, suckling and teasing her. Most of all, she wanted the emptiness in her abdomen to go away, the throbbing heat that left her edgy and needy whenever they stopped. Yet she couldn’t...it was too risky getting involved in that way.
The sound of horses in the distance was almost a relief, because it meant an end to the exquisite torture.
“Damnation. Company,” Logan breathed.
Merrie blinked, and the dazed expression slowly faded from her eyes. “Who could that be?”
They both wiggled to the edge of the loft, looking down in time to see Gloria come barreling into the barn as if a pack of wolves was behind her. Chip followed at a much more leisurely pace, first stopping to tie their mounts to the corral fence.
“I told you to keep your tail put, and that’s what I meant,” Chip said.
“You boorish clod. I have every intention of keeping my ‘tail’ exactly where I please.”
“On this ranch, you’ll stay put if I tell you. We were chasin’ a hurt steer. No place for a useless piece of city fluff.”
Merrie choked and clapped her hand across her mouth. Gloria looked as though she’d been sprayed in the face by a skunk.
“Why do you keep saying that? I’m not useless,” she shrieked. “I’m not.”
Chip obviously wasn’t impressed. “Do tell?”
Beside her, Logan was shaking with suppressed laughter. He caught a rope looped over the rafter and pulled himself upright.
“No, don’t!” Merrie warned, but it was too late.
The rope released a trap door—dropping their section of the loft by a pair of hinges. Fortunately they tumbled into a pile of loose hay, which cushioned their landing.
Gloria shrieked again, but Chip just nodded casually. “Howdy, Red. Wondered where you got to last night. Quite a party.”
Merrie didn’t move, she just smashed her face into Logan’s chest. It was unkind, really. Gloria had “lost” Logan to another women, and then she’d been taunted by a tobacco-chewing cowboy, told she was a pain in the rear end, and dumped in a horse trough. On top of which, she’d been forced to attend the other woman’s “engagement” party. Now this...Merrie could almost feel sorry for her.
“Honey, are you okay?” Logan asked.
“Fine,” she said, her voice muffled in his shirt. “How about you?”
“Terrific. You’re making a habit of landing on me. I enjoy it. Did you lose your top this time?” he asked hopefully.
“Rat.” Merrie pinched his side and he yelped.
“Hey, it was an innocent question. And you know me—I’m always willing to sacrifice my clothing for your modesty.” He made it sound as if she’d regularly go nude without his helpful contributions.
“Right. You’re a regular prince.” She hauled herself to a sitting position and tossed her hair over her shoulder. A quick glance at Gloria surprised her—instead of the rage and contempt Merrie had expected, she seemed wistful as she watched them together.
“Hi, everyone,” Logan said, climbing to his feet. He shook clinging bits of hay from his clothing and hair, then helped Merrie do the same. “Hate to drop and run, but we’ve got fences to ride. You understand, I’m sure.”
“Yup.” Chip’s gaze settled on the front of Merrie’s blue shirt. “I could tell you were gettin’ all-fired up to go somewhere.”
Logan turned Merrie around and fastened the five buttons he’d managed to unfasten in the loft. He liked Chip, but some things were personal—and Merrie’s lacy peach bra was one of them.
“You said one of the animals was hurt?” Merrie, asked, her cheeks turning hot.
“Not too bad. Broke through a fence and caught his neck on the barbed wire—omery as sin, too. Then Miss City Britches decided to go down and powder her nose in the middle of roundin’ him up.”
“I did nothing of the sort,” Gloria snapped resentfully. “You didn’t give me a chance to explain. You...you dumb cowboy.”
A concerned frown creased Merrie’s forehead. “Miss Scott, I’m afraid you don’t understand. We have to protect our—”
“Honey,” Logan interrupted hastily. “This is something Gloria and Chip should settle between themselves.”
“But—”
“No!” He propelled her toward the barn door. “We have work to do. Picnics to enjoy. Our own business to mind.” He whispered the last part and Merrie’s expression became even more bewildered.
“But this is my business,” she insisted quietly. “A dude ranch can’t take chances with safety.”
Logan waited until she’d climbed onto Sun Spot, before mounting Dust Devil. “This has. nothing to do with the ranch. Believe me.”
“Nothing?” Merrie reluctantly urged Sun Spot to follow him, her face still stubbornly argumentative. “It has everything to do with the ranch. If Gloria did something dangerous, then I can’t let it happen again.”
“It won’t.” Logan slapped the reins, urging his horse into an easy canter. He waited until they’d crossed the first hill before pulling Dust Devil back to a slow walk.
She made a disgusted sound. “How do you know it won’t? Nothing should have happened in the first place. I know we make everyone sign a waiver of responsibility, but that doesn’t mean we’re careless. We do everything possible to protect our guests.”
“Honey...” he said patiently. “You’re great at reading an animal’s body language, so tell me what Gloria and Chip weren’t saying with their mouths?”
Her jaw dropped. “I...that’s ridiculous.”
“Stranger things have happened. As for protecting Gloria...if you’ve taken a look at Chip’s hat, you’ll see he’s been using plenty of protection. At this rate, he’ll have to restock his protection before the week is over.”
Merrie rolled her eyes.
“I know, it boggles the imagination.” Logan shook his head. He was still astonished himself—obviously, Chip wasn’t too discriminating when it came to women. “But it seems pretty clear. Being inexperienced in that direction, you might not recognize the signs.”
“You don’t know anything about my experience,” Merrie scolded. “And I think you’re nuts.” But her voice held some doubt and her lips twitched.
“It’s like Conan the Barbarian meets Snow White’s wicked stepmother. Although...come to think of it, they might be a perfect match.”
“Stop it.” Merrie giggled. “I’m sure Gloria has her good points.”
“Name one.”
“Uh, well...” She bit the inside of her mouth, trying to think of a positive quality in the other woman. “She’s very...that is...I like her car.”
“Ah-hah!” He grinned triumphantly. “You have a weakness for expensive cars. I knew it. Next thing you know, you’ll want a red sports car for an engagement present.”
“Huh. I didn’t say I wanted one, just that I liked it,” Merrie asserted. “As for Gloria—you know her better than I do. You must have something nice to say about her.”
Logan flashed Merrie a warm grin. “Yeah...she gave me a great excuse to come to Montana. And I’m really grateful.”
“Oh.”
He could tell she was pleased. Her eyes went down, she bit her lip to keep from smiling and an apricot flush tinged her cheeks.
“Honey?”
“I’m glad you’re having a good time.”
“Thanks.”
Logan urged Dust Devil closer, then reached out and stroked the fiery softness of Merrie’s braid as it fell across her shoulder. Beneath his fingers he felt the firm curves cupped by her lacy bra. He drew a sharp breath, reminded of the activity Gloria and Chip had ended.
“Of course,” he said slowly. “I’d enjoy myself even more if we could just—”
“Shut up, Logan,” said Merrie sweetly. She spurred Sun Spot ahead, breaking their brief contact. “You should learn to quit while you’re ahead.”
Chapter Nine
Later that night, Logan leaned against the wall and chewed on a piece of hay. It was the last barn dance before folks left on Sunday, and everyone was having a terrific time.
Everyone except him, that is.
Merrie was out on the floor, dancing the polka with Grant Steele and laughing like she didn’t have a care in the world. Hell, she wasn’t Steele’s fiancée.
She isn’t your fiancée, either, nagged his conscience. Not for real.
She wasn’t actually neglecting him, but she’d spread her attention pretty thin for most of the evening. Talking, teasing, flirting. Nobody was left sitting in a corner—she mixed couples, encouraged shy guests to participate and served as a dance partner whenever necessary.
There wasn’t an unmarried man in the place who could keep his eyes off her, and a few of the married ones were watching as well.
She flitted around, encouraged him to join in the square dancing, then flitted off again. Yet Logan couldn’t help noticing she spent a lot of time with Grant Steele and his children, and it didn’t take a genius to realize the widowed rancher would be a perfect husband for Merrie.
Grant was a family man. He loved kids and he’d happily give Merrie a dozen more if that’s what she wanted. He’d grown up on a ranch, knew the business inside and out and was a horse breeder to boot. Her grandparents approved of him, too. And he lived next door...so to speak. Perfect.
Damn.
Logan hated the jealousy nagging at him. It just seemed so ominously familiar. His mother had done the same thing...played games to make his father jealous. Flirting with any male she could find. Taunting him with his failures as a husband and man.
Stop, he ordered, slugging a glass of cold lemonade down his throat. Merrie wouldn’t do that...would she? He watched her whirl around the wood floor and wondered. It was an arrogant question, yet it spun around in his head, searching for an answer.
“Oh, my,” she gasped as they finished their dance a few feet away. “I love the polka.” She was breathless from the energetic dance and fanned herself with her hand.
“I know.” Grant groaned and rubbed one of his knees. “And it’s so ridiculous. I feel foolish out there, bouncing around like that. You’re a bad influence on me...I’m getting too old to polka.”
“Poor man.” She flashed him a smile and patted his cheek...making Logan grit his teeth. Was it deliberate, knowing it would make him crazy? “You can’t give up—we’ve been perfecting our style for twenty years.”
“God save me.” Steele brightened when he looked past her to Logan, slouched against the wall. “Better yet, your husband-to-be will save me. The next one is all yours, Kincaid. I’ve done my time with the Red Bombshell.”
“Thanks,” Logan muttered.
Merrie laughed at her friend. Grant always complained, and she never paid any attention. “Not a chance, Grant. You’ll never find such a proper stockbroker as Logan Kincaid doing the polka. You’re stuck for the duration, buddy.”
Logan caught her elbow and hauled her close. “You should try asking me to dance...I’d be delighted.”
Surprise creased her forehead. “We’ve danced several times. What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing,” he snapped.
Grant looked at them both, whistled beneath his breath and drawled something about rounding up his kids for the drive home.
“I’ll see you next week,” said Merrie.
“Actually I’ll be over in the morning. I have some business with Paul.”
She nodded, turned around to Logan, put her hands on her hips and scowled. “Now tell me, what’s eating you? You’ve been acting funny all evening.”
“Me?”
“Yes,” Merrie said, exasperated. “You’re all stiff and stuffy and won’t talk to anyone. Not that it’s unusual for you to act that way, but I thought you were changing... loosening up.”
He snorted. “And I thought fiancée’s normally spent more than five minutes at a time with the man they’re engaged to marry. I must have been wrong about that.”
“You...I...” Merrie gave a wordless shriek, turned on her heel and stalked from the barn.
How dare he?
A pretend engagement didn’t give him exclusive rights. Even a real engagement wouldn’t mean she had to ignore her responsibility as a hostess.
“Merrie, wait a minute.”
She turned and glared. “What do you want?”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that part about our engagement.”
“Darned right. I’m not your personal property. And in case you’ve forgotten, we aren’t engaged. It’s all a joke for your own private amusement. I knew I shouldn’t have gone along with such a stupid idea.”
“Okay.” Logan made an obvious effort to calm down. “But I don’t enjoy feeling jealous. I didn’t expect you to play those kinds of games.”
“Games?” Disbelief colored her voice.
“You were flirting with every man in the place. How did you expect me to feel?”
“I wasn’t flirting, I was doing my job,” she spat. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m still an employee of the Bar Nothing. It’s what I do—I make people feel at home. Help them relax. Sheesh! You’re a real piece of work, Logan Kincaid.”
“You and Grant—”
“Grant is like a big brother. We’re friends, that’s all. Besides, he’s never gotten over losing his wife.”
“Maybe I got carried away.”
“No kidding?” Merrie crossed her arms over her stomach, blinking away angry tears. “You push and push, wanting to have your ‘hot little affair.’ But at the same time, you’ve made it crystal clear you have no intention of ever getting married, much less to someone like me.”
“Try to understand,” Logan said insistently. “Hell, I’d never even seen a healthy marriage before I met your grandparents. I didn’t think they existed.”
“I know. But under the circumstances, did you ever consider that you don’t have any right feeling jealous? I’ve never made a secret of what I want—the ranch, a husband and a family. I was always honest about it. Why would I want to make you jealous?”
“Honey—”
“I’m not your honey, and leave me alone.” She turned again, muttering beneath her breath.
Men. They were all a
like. Rotten to the core. Lianne had been lucky, at least her fiancé was an obvious slime-ball, easy to identify and dump. Men like Logan could creep into your heart and tear it apart.
Still cursing to herself, Merrie walked up to the house and curled up on the porch swing. It was private there, hidden behind the morning glories twining their way to the roof.
Logan could go right back to Seattle for all she cared.
She never wanted to see him again.
Logan clomped back to the barn dance. His ego had been wounded and he’d taken it out on Merrie. Again. But hell, she’d been so friendly with Grant. She must have known he was watching, and how it would make him feel.
“Logan?”
Great. It was Gloria Scott. He looked up, his patience at the breaking point.
“Yes?” he barked.
“Where’s Merrie? I need to talk to her.”
“Uh, I don’t think she’s feeling well. She went up to the house.”
“Oh.” Gloria sidled around him. “That’s too bad. I’ll just check to see if she needs anything.”
Terrific.
The last thing Merrie needed was a confrontation with Gloria Scott and her catty mouth. But he refused to feel responsible. The two women could duke it out, and he’d stay right down here, listening to the music and watching everyone dance.
His resolve lasted about sixty seconds. With a sigh of resignation, Logan turned and followed.
If nothing else, he could referee.
“Merrie?”
Merrie froze, unable to believe her rotten luck. She’d had all she could take—she was going to tell Gloria that her “engagement” with Logan was all a big fat lie, and wish her happy hunting. She might even help.
“Yes, Miss Scott?”
Gloria sniffed. “Logan said you weren’t feeling well, only I really need someone to talk to, and I wondered if you didn’t feel too bad...” Her voice trailed and she actually sounded miserable. Really miserable, not the hysteric sort of misery she’d been dishing out to everyone else.
Merrie looked at the other woman. Even in the darkness she could see the faint trace of tears. She groaned internally. “What’s wrong?”
The Marriage Stampede (Wranglers & Lace #5) Page 13
