by D'Ann Lindun
“For whom?” Anger reverberated through her voice.
“Me.” The look in his dark eyes told her what he was going to do before he did it. He bent his head and slanted his lips over hers.
Stunned, Maura froze as his tongue pried her lips apart. Her hands hung by her sides. He still held her chin with one hand, the other tangled in her hair at the back of her head holding her in place while his tongue plundered her mouth.
He tasted like bourbon and desire so hot it stunned her. Maybe she didn’t have a lot of experience being seduced, but she’d never been kissed so thoroughly before. Her nipples hardened and her body dampened as his erection pressed against her stomach.
How had the gone from zero to past go in a matter of seconds?
She had to stop before she was lying on the bar with him on top of her. She shoved him away. “Stop it.”
He ran a hand over his head. “Sorry, babe. Maura. I got a little carried away.”
She motioned toward the bar. “Did you think I was going to hop on top of there and let you have your way with me there? I’m not easy, or cheap.”
“I hoped.”
His honesty shocked her speechless. She stared at him with wide eyes. “Oh.”
He turned away and downed what was left of his drink. Then he looked her way again. “I’m an ass sometimes, can we agree on that?”
“Yeah,” she said. “We certainly can.”
“Let me make it up to you.” He looked sincerely sorry.
“How?”
“Let’s write a kick ass song that will make your manager shit his pants.” He moved to the piano and sat, patting the seat next to him. “Come on.”
Maura was tempted. Still she hesitated. “Can you keep your hands to yourself?”
He held them up and shook them. “These shall remain on the keyboard.”
Slowly, she sat, too. “Okay. Let’s do it.”
A wide smile spread across his face and her pulse picked up again. She needed a little space. “Let me get a tablet to write on. I’ll be right back.”
In Starla’s office, she took a few extra moments to collect herself. The man had turned her on way too much. Maybe she had been lonely far too long. That was the only reason she could find for her unexpected wild attraction to someone like him.
“Shake it off, Maura,” she said aloud. “Write a song, go home and forget all about this guy. He’s nothing but trouble.”
CHAPTER THREE
“Where’d you disappear to last night, man?” Cowboy, carrying a coffee mug, joined Stoney, who sat on the deck overlooking the San Juan Mountains in the distance. Stoney should be in bed after staying up all night, but he was wired for sound after his all-nighter with Maura.
“Too much love in the air for my taste, buddy. I had to escape.” Stoney sipped his coffee.
Cowboy took no offense. “Where’d you land? In some chick’s bed?”
“Nah. In that little bar in town. It was closed for your wedding, but a girl let me in and turns out she’s a singer—”
“They always are,” Cowboy said dryly.
Stoney snorted. “Yeah. This one really is, though. She’s a country musician. In fact, you’ve met her once or twice. Name’s Maura Whittaker.”
Cowboy nodded. “Hot little brunette?” He held his hand to his shoulder. “About so tall. Has a duet with Dillon Travers?”
“Yeah, that’s her.”
“She was invited to the wedding, I think,” Cowboy said.
“She was,” Stoney confirmed. “But passed.”
“She missed a hell of a party.” Cowboy leaned back and closed his eyes. “I don’t know when the last guest finally left. About an hour ago, maybe.”
“Just like the old days, huh? When we used to burn down the joint, always the last to leave.” Stoney sighed deeply.
“I guess.” Cowboy sounded as melancholy as Stoney felt. “So, tell me about this chick you spent the night with.”
“We didn’t screw,” Stoney corrected. “We wrote a song.”
Cowboy opened his eyes. “That’s new.”
“I enjoyed the hell out of myself.” Stoney surprised himself by admitting it. “I like her.”
“But?” Cowboy knew him too well.
Stoney shrugged. “Not interested in getting tangled up with anyone after all the shit Nicole’s dished out. Still makes me eat crap every time I want to see Lucy.”
“I was done with chicks, too, before Montana.” Cowboy smiled wryly. “Look at me now. Never been happier.”
“You definitely hit the jackpot with Montana,” Stoney said. “She’s one in a million.”
“She is. A lot of our friends are settling down, finding the perfect girl.” Cowboy grinned. “Did you see the chick Shane Reynolds nabbed? Maya something.”
“Mia,” Stoney corrected automatically. “And, yeah, she’s hot as hell.” His mind flashed to Maura. She had similar coloring as Mia, dark hair and blue eyes, but Maura’s eyes were dark, not ice-colored.
“And, Zeke, whew. His girl.” Cowboy mentioned their friend, lead singer of the band, Zinger. “Ariel is one hot babe. Young, though. Jailbait.”
“Finding hot, young chicks isn’t a problem,” Stoney muttered. “Finding a decent girl not so easy. Shane and Zeke both hit the jackpot.”
“Quit looking at groupies and fans and you’ll be surprised at the quality women you’ll find,” Cowboy said with a straight face.
Stoney barked out laughter. “That’s rich. Coming from the biggest pussy hound alive. Before Montana, if a chick wasn’t a porn star or hooker, you weren’t into her. Look how you couldn’t even see Peyton. And she was nuts for you, dude.” He named one of Cowboy’s backup singers.
Cowboy had the grace to look embarrassed. “True, and look what not seeing a good girl got me. I lost Peyton. And I married a user with nothing on her mind but getting a foot in the door.” Before his marriage to Montana, Cowboy had met and married a fan who tore apart Cowboy’s friendship with his lifelong friend and bandmate Keifer. Turned out all the petite blonde fan wanted was a recording career and she’d do anything, or anyone, to get it.
“But you have Montana and your baby girl now. It’s all good.” Stoney drank more coffee. “And since Montana doesn’t sing, you don’t have to worry about her using you to try and further her career.”
“She can use me anyway she wants.” Cowboy wiggled his eyebrows, his trademark dirty sense of humor still alive and well.
Although he laughed, unlike his buddy, Stoney didn’t want to be used. Had Maura taken advantage of him? He was the one who suggested they write a song, and she already had a career, so it was unlikely. Still, doubts niggled at the back of his mind. It came with the territory. Fame brought out the users, the wannabees and those who just wanted to feel like they were a part of it all.
No matter how much he’d enjoyed Maura’s company, it was best to swing wide, away from her. Protect his ragged heart.
The thought depressed him.
Before they parted this morning, he’d asked for her number. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt anything to give her a call and see what she thought about adding music to the song they’d penned. The lyrics were down, but the music hadn’t been added.
“Where’d you go, dude?” Cowboy was calling him back.
“Just zoning out.”
“You were a million miles away.”
“Nah, just thinking about music.” Stoney didn’t want to talk about Maura anymore. He didn’t want his buddy to make more out of what happened than what it was—just a passing encounter with a beautiful woman.
Cowboy gestured with his mug toward the snow-capped mountains. “This place brings it out of you. I’ve probably written a dozen songs this week alone.”
“It’s pretty,” Stoney agreed.
“Yes, she is.” Cowboy was looking over Stoney’s shoulder.
He turned, too, to watch Montana walk toward them. Not the flashy type Cowboy had always gone for before, his new wife was pretty in a gi
rl-next-door kind of way with shoulder-length blonde hair, slim figure and long legs. For once, she didn’t have the baby attached to one of her boobs.
“Hey, babe.” Cowboy patted the spot beside him. “Join us.”
She sat, and after a kiss, looked at Stoney. “What are you two plotting this morning? Ways to rule the world with music?”
“Stoney’s just telling me about a chick he met,” Cowboy said.
“Yeah?” She pinned a cool look on him. “Anyone I know?”
He squirmed. “Maybe. I don’t know. She’s from here.”
“This mystery woman have a name?” she pressed.
“Maura Whittaker,” he said finally.
A look of surprise flitted across her face before she masked it. “Oh. I know her a little bit. Not well, although she was on our guest list. I didn’t see her last night.”
Cowboy filled her in on how they had met.
At the end of the story, Montana smiled. “Sounds like a love song in the making to me.”
Stoney snorted. “Not hardly.”
She laughed. “We’ll see.”
“I need some shut-eye. See you at lunch.” He stood, and leaving his friends grinning like they held all the secrets of the world, he went in search of a bed.
~*~
Maura woke to the sound of her cell phone buzzing. “Hello?”
“It’s Stoney.” He paused. “Did I wake you?”
She sat up, pushing a pillow behind her back. “Uh-huh. It’s okay, though.” She glanced at her clock. “Crap. It’s noon already?”
“Yep,” he said.
“Why are you up?” she asked.
“That’s a loaded question.” She could hear the laughter through the phone.
“Stop.” But she smiled.
“Sorry, it’s the company I keep. They’re all a bunch of pervs.”
“You need to keep better company,” she teased.
“Actually, that’s why I called.” He coughed. “I thought we could set our lyrics to music. Cowboy has a recording studio here we could use.”
She hesitated. Writing the song was one thing, recording it another. “I have to be at the rodeo tonight. Dillon and I are singing The National Anthem.”
“A rodeo, huh?” He chuckled. “Still doing small gigs? I thought your duet with Travers was hitting the charts.”
“It is, but we agreed to play the rodeo because we’re both from here and we’re in town anyway,” she said with a bite in her tone.
“No offense meant,” he said. “Maybe I’ll pull on a pair of shit kickers and a Stetson and come down and watch.”
“Sure you will.” She stood and headed for the kitchen. A cup of coffee was in order, maybe a whole pot.
“So, you wanna come up here for a while?”
She shouldn’t. He was a bad boy personified, but she was intrigued by him more than she cared to admit. “Okay. I need coffee and a shower. Give me an hour.”
“See you then.” He hung up.
Maura stared at the phone in her hand for a moment before hitting END and tossing it on the counter. Carrying a mug of coffee, she headed for the shower.
~*~
Almost exactly an hour later, Maura sat in front of the massive gates to Montana and Johnny Cortez’s ranch. She pressed the buzzer and the gates swung open. Apparently, she was on camera. She drove through and they closed behind her, locking her inside.
She’d lived in Black Mountain her entire life, but had never seen what lay behind the fence line of the famous Steele ranch. Johnny Cortez—Cowboy—had purchased the historical property for his bride. Miles of open fields, ponds, aspen and pine trees. It was all breathtaking.
When Maura turned a corner, and saw the house—mansion—Cowboy had built, her breath caught. Enormous, built from red Colorado bricks, the structure had at least three stories and two turrets. It was almost as impressive as Greystone, the castle a reclusive millionaire had built not far away.
Since she’d become a recording artist, Maura had been inside some fancy houses, but this one topped the list.
Maura parked and walked toward the house—did one call this a house?—admiring the roses lining the walkway. Their sweet scent filled the air, and birds sang from the nearby aspens. In the distance, a few horses grazed lazily in the warm sun.
The only thing breaking the tranquility were dozens of people bustling around, packing up tables and other catering equipment.
Before she reached the front doors, they swung open and Stoney stepped out to meet her. “Hi.”
“Hey.” She played with the bracelets on her right wrist like she always did when she was nervous. “This place is something else.”
“Yeah, Cowboy wanted the best for his bride.” Stoney ran a hand over his messy hair. He had a five o’clock shadow that made him look dangerous, or mysterious. Maybe both. Today, he had on a Cowboy tour T-shirt and jeans with no shoes. She felt a little overdressed in her simple sundress and messy ponytail.
“She’s a lucky lady,” Maura commented.
Stoney threw her a sharp look. “Yeah, she is.”
What had she said? Maybe that she longed for someone to buy her something similar? She could buy her own stuff; she had all her life. Maybe nothing like this. Right now, her extravagance was her new cherry red Mustang. She’d earned it on her own. She hefted her guitar. “I brought the lyrics.”
“Great. You want to sit out on the deck until we get the music down?”
“Sure, the weather’s great.”
“This way.” Stoney led the way through an archway on the side of the building that opened to an enormous backyard complete with a flagstone deck, a glimmering blue pool and attached Jacuzzi. A fire pit and standing rock barbeque completed the beautiful setting. In the distance stood the massive San Juan range, most peaks still holding onto last winter’s snow.
Stoney motioned to the scattered deck chairs. “Pick one. Want a drink?”
“A coke, please.” Maura settled on one of the chairs and strummed a few notes on her guitar.
A tall, pretty blonde came through a door, approaching with a wide smile. “Hi, Maura. I don’t know if we’ve met, but I’m Montana. Welcome to our home.” She glanced around. “Excuse the mess. We’re cleaning up from last night.”
Maura stood and held out a hand. “Hi, congrats on your marriage. I was a few classes behind you in school. And your place is beautiful.”
“Thank you.” Montana released her hand. “Make yourself at home. There’s a ton of food leftover from last night and any kind of drink you could ever want.”
Stoney held up a Coke and a glass of ice. “Got it covered.”
Montana laughed. “Well, since I can’t sing worth a darn I’m just in the way, so I’ll take off and leave you to it.”
Maura smiled at the woman’s self-deprecation. “You’re welcome to stick around…”
“You sing fine,” Stoney said.
“I know my limitations. besides I can see this is a duet, not a trio.” She gave a little wave and turned to go inside. “Have fun. I hope you write a hit.”
“Thank you,” Maura called after her. She wished she would have been in the same grade as Montana. She seemed kind, unlike most of the girls in her class who hadn’t been tolerant of Maura’s dreams of stardom.
Stoney straddled the end of the deck chair, facing her. “Here’s your drink.”
She took it and poured the pop over ice. She giggled when the bubbles tickled her nose. “That feels funny.”
“Haven’t you ever drunk pop before?” Stoney looked skeptical.
“Of course,” Maura said, embarrassed. She didn’t know how to tell him watching her with those intense dark eyes of his made her so fluttery she couldn’t drink soda without a mishap.
CHAPTER FOUR
Maura and Stoney had been working for about an hour, putting music to the lyrics they’d written when a couple came out of the house, both wearing swimsuits. They waved and headed toward them.
Maur
a set aside her guitar when they grew near.
“Hey,” Stoney said. “What’s going on?”
The man, a tall blond with his hair worn in a ponytail, grinned. “Taking a little dip. We won’t bug you, will we?”
“No,” Stoney said. “Unless you start making out in the pool and gross us out.”
Heat rushed up the girl’s face. She half hid behind her boyfriend, but she was adorable with a pixie haircut and big brown eyes that reminded Maura of a woodland creature.
“We might,” he said as his girl fidgeted and studied her feet. “Unless you join us. A little break might do you good.” He grinned wickedly at Maura. “I’m Erik.” He tugged the shy girl forward. “And this is Andrea.”
“I’m Maura Whittaker.” She smiled at the girl. “Nice to meet you.”
She blushed a pretty shade of pink. “You, too. Do you want to swim with us?”
“I don’t have a suit.” Maura gave a longing glance at the glorious blue pool. It did look inviting.
“You don’t need one.” Stoney wiggled his eyebrows. “We can go without.”
Maura frowned at him. “Montana might disagree with that plan.”
Stoney snorted. “You think she and Cowboy haven’t been naked in that pool?”
“Well, I’m not going nude,” Maura told him. “And Thinking of Cowboy and Montana naked is an image I could do without, thank you.”
Stoney and Erik chuckled like frat boys and did a fist bump.
“I have a bikini I’ve never worn,” Andrea offered. “You’re welcome to it.”
“Come on,” Erik urged. Three small silver hoops in his left ear glittered in the afternoon sun. He spread his arms wide and she noticed the dark knot tattoo on his arm. “Life’s short.”
“We’re working on a song.” Maura gestured toward the sheaf of papers spread across the lawn chair.
“Finish it later.” Erik apparently wasn’t taking no for an answer.
Maura glanced at Stoney. “I have to leave in about two hours…”
