Roped In

by Crystal Green

  He’d be damned if people heard about the Slanted C’s problems. He’d be double damned if he came off to them just as useless and ineffective as his dad had made him feel at home.

  “My business is none of your business,” he quietly said to Alexander as the bartender slid a fancy beer toward him. Shane had no idea that anyplace in Pine Junction even stocked brew with foreign labels, but there it was.

  It also didn’t sit well that the Lyon Group might bring a lot more into the town than overpriced beverages.

  “You’re wrong about this information not being my business,” Alexander said after the bartender had left them. “I’d like to work with you on this. This is the kind of business that would be beneficial to both of us, so you shouldn’t look at me as if I’m the enemy.”

  He meant that the creditors—out-of-town banks that his father had gone to instead of the local neighbors whom he said were too “judgmental about a man”—were the bad guys. And Alexander, plus his cronies, were charging in like white knights to the Slanted C’s rescue. Shane assumed that this businessman’s “friend” who’d called him today might’ve even been one of these city creditors.

  Wasn’t it unethical or even illegal for the friend to let that cat out of the bag? Hell, yes. Was it out of the realm of possibility that it’d even happened?

  Not likely.

  Shane lowered his voice, all too aware of Lemuel, who was still scribbling away. “I already said an unqualified no to you about my ranch, Alexander, so you’d best just let the rest be.”

  “Just hear me out for a few minutes. I know you want to hold on to the Slanted C. I would, too. It’s got so many appealing aspects, including a lake, wells and a reservoir that put your property head and shoulders above the other ones I’ve been looking at.”

  “The Square W+W has more than enough to offer in comparison.”

  “It doesn’t have your natural resources or potential. I’m envisioning water skiing on that lake, sailing, swimming. And I see you staying on even after the transition, Carter. You could run the place. It’d still be like home for you.”

  “I’m not for sale.” He hadn’t meant to phrase it in that manner—he’d meant that the ranch was off the market—but it was true, anyway. Shane Carter would never sell out. It’d be a cold day in hell before he did anything to turn Pine Junction into more than a down-home place with a few cheesy Hollywood buildings offering amusement.

  But Shane was suspecting that this high-minded ideal of what the town should be wasn’t really the reason he was digging in his heels. It was something else.

  Change—and not just in Pine Junction. Once upon a time, Shane had held some dreams for the Slanted C: he’d dreamed about improving their breeding operation, but his dad and brother had thought he was over-reaching. Tommy was the college boy, and his notions were the ones Dad had listened to. Shane was merely the brother who’d never been educated partly because the money had run out before he’d gotten his chance, mostly because he hadn’t really wanted to go to college. So he’d struck off on his own right before high school graduation, flying the bird to his father, then eventually getting his GED all on his own.

  Now, though, he was thinking that, because he was in charge of the Slanted C, this was his opportunity to prove to all of them, even a dead man, that he’d been right. That, if they’d only listened to him, they would’ve found success.

  Call it hubris, call it whatever, but it was there, and Shane just wanted to redeem himself on his own terms.

  Especially to the dead man.

  Alexander took another drink of his la-de-dah beer, and as the bartender brought out his food plate, he extracted a pen from his front shirt pocket, then neatly wrote something on a napkin.

  “The Lyon Group would like every bit of the Slanted C,” he said. “Every acre. And we’d like to secure it now, without having to wait for a bank sale or take the chance that someone else could grab it. This is what we’re offering.”

  He passed the napkin to Shane.

  It was a number. A lowball seven-digit figure that dug into the center of Shane’s chest before he pushed the napkin back at Alexander.

  Even if the number wasn’t astronomical, it would do wonders for the Slanted C’s present business operations. But this money wasn’t meant for an investment in those—it was a full buy-out.

  It would mean giving up the ranch that he wanted to make over so that it could be the place where Mom could live out the rest of her years in peace—without dudes around.

  Unlike him, she still loved it on the Slanted C—it’d been bequeathed to her through her side of the family—and Shane had promised her that he’d fix everything so she could come back someday.

  Just as Shane was about to tell Alexander where he could stuff that napkin, there was a rustling in the air—a disturbance that got him at the fine hairs on the back of his neck, tingling the skin on his arms at the same time.

  When he glanced over his shoulder, he saw Nicki coming through the entrance, and his chest contracted.

  She was wearing a white dress, and it smacked as one of Candace’s. It looked all summer-like and ultra-feminine with the straps on her shoulders delicate and lacy, with the hem kissing the middle of her slim calves. As he slid his gaze back up her body, he noticed that her hair was down again, a riot of curls brushing her tanned shoulders.

  All woman.

  Belatedly, he noticed that Candace was right in back of Nicki, her curvaceous figure dressed in tight jeans and a blue-and-white country top, her red hair swept up and off of her neck in a careless bunch.

  He turned back to the bar and saw Alexander’s gaze lingering. And damn if the man’s gaze wasn’t full of fire, just about stripping the clothing off Candace, who was causing a stir near the silent jukebox, where a bunch of cowboys stood around a tall table.

  Alexander turned back to the bar, clearing his throat.

  Shane knew the exact instant Nicki came up behind him—he could smell the fresh shampoo she liked to use. Even her skin had its own unique fragrance that corkscrewed something inside of him.

  “Hi, there,” she said.

  Alexander gave her a nod of greeting, and she returned the gesture. Shane didn’t like the stab of jealousy he felt, just because she was acknowledging another man.

  What the hell?

  But, even worse, when she focused on him, he almost grabbed her, brought her to him. It was the glow on her that did it—and he wasn’t sure if it was left over from last night or if it was because she was glad to see him now.

  And that glow was translating into some downright big confidence as she turned and addressed Alexander.

  “I expected you to be back home by now.”

  “Not just yet.” He wore a smile as he looked in the mirror, probably watching Candace behind them. “I’m staying at the Hacienda a little longer.”

  Out of nowhere, Lemuel Matthews leaned over and inserted himself into the conversation. Shane had all but forgotten the old writer was even there.

  “Nicki, talk fast,” he said. “This businessman’s sniffing around the Slanted C.”

  Great.

  Shane surprised himself by holding his tongue and checking Nicki’s expression first, just to see if the news had slammed her as much as he expected it might.

  And it had. He could see it in her parted lips, the helplessness in her gaze that told him her last option for the W+W was fading before her very eyes.

  Did she think that he’d been working an angle with the Lyon Group behind her back?

  Before he could even weigh the consequences, he said, “I’m not interested in anything Alexander has to offer.”

  As if to contradict him, that number on the napkin flashed over Shane’s sight, but he ignored it.

  When Nicki smiled in relief, the weight of the world lifted off Shane’s shoulders.

  He felt dizzy with that smile of hers.

  With a confidence that turned him on all over again, she slipped onto the stool between hi
m and Alexander, settling in. Why hadn’t every man in town tried for Nicki’s attentions over the years?

  What hadn’t they seen in her?

  “Well, then,” she said to Alexander. “It seems you have one less property to consider….”

  Subtly, secretly, Shane touched her thigh as he slid off his stool. He swore he saw her shift, just slightly, and it was enough to make him need to get away from her as fast as possible.

  As he left Nicki to present her case to Alexander, Shane caught Lemuel’s eye, and the old man nodded to him with something like loyalty or even…respect?

  Shane could just imagine how Lemuel would probably forget any of those unexpected feelings if Shane dropped the ball with the ranch and lost it altogether.

  With one last look at Nicki, he made for the door, the faster to get away from Alexander…and that number on the napkin.

  Then he felt someone grabbing his arm.

  “Shane?” It was Candace’s voice; she had deserted her table of cowboys. “Can I have a word with you?”

  She seemed contrite, and he knew why that was. This was no doubt about the note she’d slipped into his vest that night of the Halloween party.

  “Listen,” he said, “if you’re apologizing to me about being a merry matchmaker, don’t bother.”

  “I guess it did all work out, thank goodness. But it was still impertinent of me, and I wanted to acknowledge that.”

  He shrugged it off, but even the mention of that night was making his imagination run wild now.

  If he called up Nicki this evening, what would they do this time? They’d tried outlaws, pirates.

  He glanced back at her, toward the bar, where she was making some kind of point to Russell Alexander.

  She could obviously lay down the law with other men, but when it came to the bedroom… Shane held back a grin. He liked how she let him run things, just as he craved to with everything else in life these days.

  When he looked back at Candace, he saw that her eyes were on Nicki and Alexander, too.

  But her gaze was all about eating up the businessman.

  She tore her focus away, offering a cheeky smile when she realized that Shane had noticed.

  “Maybe you could send him a note from me?” she asked, obviously joking.

  “I should think you wouldn’t need any help.”

  “Why—did he say something to you?” Then, apparently sensing that she was being overeager, she mellowed. “Not that it matters.”

  “Doesn’t it?”

  “He’s not interested.”

  Shane laughed. “You might want to reconsider that opinion.”

  Before he could get into some painful girlie conversation with her, he went for the door.

  But, on the way out, Nicki looked over at him, and her smile told him that the night was hardly at an end.

  SHANE’S WORDS KEPT ringing in Candace’s ears.

  You might want to reconsider that opinion, he’d said in a way that told her she was being silly and probably altogether ridiculous about denying that Russell was in to her.

  She knew it, he knew it. Maybe everyone around them did, too.

  So what should she do about it?

  Nothing right now, she thought for about the hundredth time. Business first. Business, business, business.

  Still, the words felt…empty. Especially when she remembered hearing those kids laughing today, plus what Nicki had said about the dude resort changing everything on the ranch.

  Despite her worried thoughts, she went to the bar and sat on the other side of Russell. The instant she did, he brought his gaze to her.

  He’d known all along that she was on her way over to him. Impertinent, all right.

  “Looks like I’ve been flanked,” he said. “You ladies really know how to corner a man.”

  His phone rang from his pocket, the sound of chimes. He had a napkin in his fist, crumpled up, and although Candace didn’t know what might’ve been so important about a piece of paper, he stuffed it into his jeans pocket before fetching his phone, checking the screen, then shutting the device off.

  “Always on call,” Russell said.

  Russell motioned to the bartender toward Candace and Nicki.

  “Two more plates?”

  Nicolas nodded, then went to place the order.

  As Candace and Nicki exchanged hopeful glances, Russell added, “What do you say we forget about business and just relax for the night?”

  Nicki agreed, but it seemed as if she hadn’t given up on pursuing the dude deal.

  And that meant Candace wouldn’t, either.

  NICKI AND CANDACE drove back to the W+W with the radio on, no other words needed—not when Johnny Cash could say it all.

  He was the man in black, the outlaw.

  Boy, Nicki really could’ve used some of that tonight from Shane. A picker-upper. An antidote to a disappointing night.

  Russell Alexander had been serious when he’d suggested they merely relax. He’d paid for dinner and drinks, lightly quizzing them about their lives, seeming to enjoy the conversation, especially when Candace talked about her time in town with her fast friends who enjoyed hitting the Gaslamp Quarter bars.

  But just as Nicki could’ve sworn that Russell was falling for Candace deeper with every passing second, his phone had rung again, and he’d said a reluctant good-night.

  There’d definitely been no business, and the loose ends slapped at Nicki now.

  Yet that wasn’t the only thing gnawing at her—the other had more to do with what old Lemuel Matthews had said at the bar about the Lyon Group sniffing around the Slanted C.

  The very thought of competition from the Slanted C dragged her down, because they would blow the Square W+W out of the water as far as a dude resort went, what with that lake they had on the property.

  But Shane had said he wasn’t interested. Even if he was, though—and even if his ranch was in the same awful position hers was in—she wasn’t sure she could’ve ever hated him for accepting an offer. She’d already come to peace with the possibility of losing out to another property, knowing that any one of her neighbors could be the fortunate recipients of the Lyon Group’s attentions.

  Still, there’d be a crushing jealousy directed at those neighbors. Sadness. Loss. The last opportunity for recovery ducking completely out of her reach.

  When she and Candace walked into the house, which was silent—Cook had gone to her cabin for the night— Candace headed for the kitchen.

  “Ice cream cures all ailments,” she said. “You want some, too?”

  “What I’d like is a nice, long bath, and then…”

  A book that would sweep her mind away from all its troubles.

  But Shane, right here, right now, would be better.

  Should she give him a casual ring? Hey, get over here and make one of those scenes I like so much come alive again….

  Nicki took out her phone while she climbed the stairs. Once she reached the top landing, she opened the door to her room, punching up her address book on the phone. She was so immersed in what she was doing that she didn’t notice the breeze from her open window at first.

  Not until she looked up to see why it was ajar when she’d surely closed it upon leaving the house.

  On her bed, lounging as if he owned it, Shane reclined. A pillow was propped behind his head, a book in his hands.

  It was the vampire story that had been waiting on her nightstand.

  He set the book on his wide chest, grinning.

  “About time you got here,” he said.

  8

  THE MINUTE SHANE had walked out of the bar, he’d known just where he was going, and it wasn’t to his own bed.

  He was too wound up. If he knew anything for certain, it was that Nicki could wind him up even more, then release all his tension in the end. Being with her reminded him of the old hell-raising days with other girls in Pine Junction, except…

  Nicki wasn’t any other girl, and it made him shift position o
n the bed.

  That’s right—he’d improved in a lot of ways over the years, becoming a fairly responsible man in Texas, keeping to one job and being damned good at it. But he was still not steady enough for a woman like Nicki.

  Good thing they just had games between them.

  “Aren’t you being presumptuous?” she asked, motioning to him lying there on the bed, reading her book.

  “It’s always worked for me.”

  She closed her door, leaned back against it. And when she reached behind her to lock it, Shane thought that maybe Nicki enjoyed presumption a whole hell of a lot.

  He held up the vampire book. “Bedtime reading or research?”

  “A little bit of both.”

  “I can see how it’d be instructive.” He flipped to a page in the middle of the book. “‘He kissed her thigh, gnawed at it, feeling the thud of her femoral artery, where the blood called to him…’”

  “Do you have some kind of guy-sex radar that led you right to that page or something?”

  “I must.”

  Nicki strode toward the bed, plucking the book out of his grip.

  Shane just kept lying there, propping his hands behind his head on the pillow. “Don’t mind my saying so, Nicki, but you’re into some of the more exotic stuff.”

  “I didn’t say the research was necessary for sex.” She carefully put the book down on the nightstand, as if she took such great care with all of her novels.

  “What’s the research for, then?” he asked.

  “I figured I should get to know the mind of a blood-sucker if I was going up against the Lyon Group.”

  Here they went. He’d known that he’d have to deal with answering for what she’d heard at the bar tonight.

  Shane sat up in the bed. “About what Lemuel told you…”

  “You mean how Russell Alexander wants your ranch?”

  Was she about to lay into him with a lecture about neighbors not moving in on each other’s deals and, more important, about how he’d chided her for selling out?

  Or maybe that was only his guilt suggesting ideas.

  “Nicki,” Shane said, “I never encouraged him. I didn’t even tell you that Alexander had contacted me about the Slanted C because I’d never entertained his interest.”