The Last Single Maverick

by Christine Rimmer

  Joss tugged on the collar of his shirt. He leaned down even closer. Her warm, sweet breath teased his ear as she whispered, “If she knew the truth about me she might actually believe that we really are just friends.”

  He whispered back, “Are you saying you’re planning on telling her the truth?”

  She held his gaze. “Are you?”

  “I have told the truth, that you and I are just friends. Is it my fault that no one will believe me?”

  “I guess not.”

  “I’m glad you see it that way.” Leaning close to her, breathing in the tempting scent of her perfume, it would be so easy to wish for more than friendship. “As for your truth, well, it’s not mine to tell.”

  She smiled up at him then, causing his heart to beat harder in his chest. “I appreciate that, Jace. Because I don’t want to go into it with everyone. It’s too embarrassing.”

  “That’s A-okay with me. I won’t say a word.”

  “Thanks.” Now those big brown eyes looked at him trustingly. He felt minimally guilty about that. After all, he did find her way hot. And if she just happened to decide she wanted some benefits in this temporary friendship after all, well, every moment he was with her, it got harder to remember why a few benefits wouldn’t be a crackerjack idea. “For some weird reason, I don’t have any trouble telling you all my secrets—even the shameful ones.” Her cheeks flushed pink and she lowered her gaze so she was looking at the second button of his shirt.

  He couldn’t resist using a finger to tip her chin back up. He stared at her mouth. How could he help it? She had the softest, widest mouth he’d ever seen. He wanted to kiss her. A lot. But he wouldn’t. He said, “There’s nothing shameful in wanting your dream so much you’re willing to compromise to get it.”

  “That depends on the compromise. Even letting myself imagine I might get back with Kenny after he betrayed me with my own cousin…uh-uh. That was shameful.”

  “Listen to me, Joss. I want you to stop beating yourself up about that.”

  “It’s only…”

  He put a finger against those soft lips of hers. “Take it from your new best friend. It’s over with the cheater. You didn’t go back to him. That’s what matters.” From the corner of his eye, he saw everyone filing past, moving toward the kitchen. His brother Corey and his wife, Erin, glanced their way. Erin whispered to Corey. He could just guess what she was saying—something about how Jace had found someone special.

  Which was great. It fit into his plan just fine.

  He and Joss would have a good time together, enjoying each other’s company, taking each day as it came. And his family would leave him alone to pursue what they all hoped was the beginning of a “meaningful” relationship, a relationship that would help him get over Tricia, whom they were all so damn certain had broken his heart.

  “Everyone’s heading for the kitchen,” Joss whispered. “Shouldn’t we join them?”

  He draped an arm around her slim shoulders. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter Five

  “No way. I’m not going anywhere on a horse,” Joss informed Jason for what seemed like the hundredth time that evening.

  By then, they were back up at the resort in her suite, eating chocolate from the complimentary bowl on the coffee table. She added in a tone she intended to be final, “I’ll just take a pass on the family picnic, if you don’t mind.”

  “But I do mind.” He put on a needy expression. The guy had no shame when it came to getting his way. “You’ll break my heart if you don’t go.”

  She had the bowl in her lap. She fished around in it and found what she wanted. Swiftly, she unwrapped the tempting square of lovely, smooth bittersweet perfection. A groan of pleasure escaped her as she popped it into her mouth. It was fabulous. Too fabulous. Shiny wrappers littered the coffee table in front of them. “Your heart,” she said, “is way too easy to break.”

  Now he looked noble—in a soft-eyed, far-too-appealing way. “It’s true. Please. Don’t hurt me any more than I’ve already been hurt. Come to the picnic with me tomorrow. Save me from my family. I’m begging you, Joss.”

  “So how exactly have you already been hurt?” She was kind of curious about that woman who had apparently dumped him.

  He actually stuck out his lower lip. “It’s just too painful to talk about.”

  “You know you’re totally full of it, right?”

  He dug in the bowl for another candy. “What? Full of chocolate, you mean?”

  She gave him a slow look of great patience. “You’re not going to tell me, are you?”

  “One of these days…”

  “Which day? By my count, we have five days left and I’m outta here.”

  “Yeah, but we’ve been best friends for only about twenty-four hours. I need a little more time to…let down my guard.”

  “Hah.” She kept after him. “So, tomorrow, then? You’ll tell me tomorrow?”

  “Do you really need to know?”

  “I’m curious, okay?” And growing more so the longer she hung around with him. “Then again, what does it matter if you tell me all about your recent bad romance, or not?”

  “So then, you don’t really need to know.”

  She gave it up. “No, Jason. I don’t need to know.”

  He beamed. “Great.”

  She started to root around for another piece of candy—but no. She really didn’t need another piece of candy. Resolutely, she handed him the bowl. “Don’t let me near that again tonight.”

  “Count on me to save you from yourself—and come to the picnic tomorrow.”

  “Do you ever give up?”

  “No, I don’t. It’s not in my nature.” He dug in the bowl and pulled out a nutty caramel chew. “Damn, these are good.”

  “You had to remind me.” She reached for the bowl.

  He jerked it away. “Uh-uh. Remember? You’re not having any more.”

  “Just one.”

  “You won’t respect me if I don’t hold my ground here.” He actually put his hand over the top of the bowl, as if she might try to reach in.

  Which was exactly what she’d planned to do. “You can be so annoying. You know that, right?”

  “It’s for your own good,” he said oh so nobly. “You said not to let you.”

  “Well, I meant, don’t let me until I want you to let me.”

  He cast those bedroom eyes heavenward. “Women. They have no idea what they want.”

  “Men. They think they know everything.” She scooped up the scattered candy wrappers and started firing them at him.

  “Hey, knock that off.” He ducked and held up the bowl as a shield.

  She fired more wrappers. One got stuck in his hair. “Gimme that candy,” she demanded, trying really hard to sound scary.

  But he only set the bowl aside—his other side—and knocked the wrapper out of his hair. “Sorry. No can do.” He deflected with his hands that time.

  She was out of wrappers. Laughing, she lunged for the bowl.

  He caught her by both wrists before she got there. “Behave,” he commanded.

  “Let me go.” She tried to pull away.

  He held on. “Say you’ll behave.”

  “No way.”

  “Say it. Promise.”

  “Uh-uh. Forget that.”

  They were both laughing by then, as she struggled to free her wrists and he held on. She got one hand free and she went for it—reaching across him, grabbing for the bowl.

  She made it, too. She shoved her fingers in and came out with a nice, big handful. “Got ’em!” she crowed in triumph, holding her prize high.

  “Put those back,” he instructed in what could only be called a growl.

  “What, these, you mean?” She opened her hand and let them rain down on his head.

  He sat very still—for a moment anyway—as the candy bounced off his thick hair and broad shoulders and fell to the sofa cushions and down to the floor. Then, frowning thunderously, he glanced around them
. “Look at this mess. Wrappers and candy everywhere.”

  “It’s your own fault. You should have given me the candy when I asked for it.”

  He let go of her other wrist, but then he only captured both of her arms and made a big show of baring his gorgeous snow-white teeth at her. “You’re a brat, Jocelyn Marie. You know that?”

  “Yes, I am. And proud of it.” She tossed her hair and held her head high.

  He leaned in, playfully threatening….

  And right then, in the space of an instant, everything changed.

  One second, they were tussling like a pair of ill-behaved third graders—and the next second, they weren’t. One moment she was laughing and teasing and giving him a hard time—and the next, she wasn’t.

  Out of nowhere, her breath snagged in her throat. Her pulse spiked and her skin felt sensitized and too hot. All at once, she was acutely aware of his big, warm hands gripping her arms, of his dark, dark eyes and the beautiful, way-too-kissable shape of his lips. Of the scent of him, that was a little spicy and a little green and also electric somehow, the way the air smells right before a thunderstorm.

  She watched his eyes—saw them track. From her eyes, to her mouth, back to her eyes again…

  She knew what was coming. He was going to kiss her.

  And oh, at that moment, she wanted him to kiss her.

  Wanted to feel his powerful arms banded around her, wanted his breath in her mouth and the rough wet glide of his tongue.

  Wanted him to guide her back onto the sofa cushions, to press his big, muscled body so tightly against her, to hold her so close and kiss her so long, and so deep and so thoroughly that she would forget…

  Everything.

  The mess that was her life. All the ways her plans and her world had gone haywire. All the things she somehow had to fix, to make right, even though she really had no idea how to do that.

  She wanted to tear off all her clothes and all of his, too. She wanted to be naked with him, skin-to-skin. Naked with her new best friend who happened to be a man she’d met only the day before.

  She wanted forgetfulness. And she wanted it in Jace’s big arms.

  But then, very softly, he asked, “Joss?” And his eyes were different, clearer somehow, seeking an answer from her.

  And she liked him so much then. She liked him more than she wanted the temporary escape his lean, strong, male body offered her.

  He was doing the right thing by her. He was giving her the moment she needed.

  The choice she needed. The chance to stop now. To say no.

  She swallowed, slowly. She pressed her lips together and gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head.

  That was all it took.

  He let go of her arms and sank back against the cushions. She did the same. Her heart still pounded too hard, her breath came too fast and her body still yearned. But that would pass.

  It wasn’t going to happen. And that was…good.

  Right.

  For a long, silent moment, they simply sat there, among the scattered candy and empty wrappers, not looking at each other.

  And then, without a word, by a sort of tacit agreement, they both rose and began gathering up the pieces of chocolate. She went and got the wastebasket by the wet bar and they threw the wrappers away.

  Finally, he started to turn for the door, but then he stopped and faced her, where she stood by the sofa, still holding the wastebasket, feeling forlorn.

  “Tomorrow,” he said. “You’re coming. Don’t argue. Wear old jeans and bring a jacket. Tennis shoes if you don’t have riding boots. Do you have a hat?”

  Gladness surged through her. Suddenly, she desperately wanted to go. “You’ll be sorry. I meant what I said. I do not know how to ride a horse.”

  “Then it’s time you learned.” His voice was gentle. Fond. And yet, somehow, an echo of heated excitement seemed to cling to him, to thicken the air between them.

  She looked in those dark eyes and she almost wished…but no. It was better this way. Safer. Saner. And lately, she could use all the safety and sanity she could get. She said, “I bought boots and a hat the first day I was here. And a cute Western shirt, too, as a matter of fact.”

  “I’ll be here to get you at nine.”

  * * *

  “I think this is a bad idea,” she said the next morning when she opened the door to him and he stood there looking one-hundred-percent authentic cowboy in faded jeans and rawhide boots, a worn blue Western shirt with white piping and a blue bandana. He had his hat in his hand.

  He gave her a crooked smile that made her feel all warm and fuzzy inside. “You’re going to have a great time.”

  She made a doubtful sound and frowned at his hat. “Is that a real Stetson?”

  “Resistol.”

  She assumed that must be a brand of hat. “Well, all right. Good to know.”

  He took in her red plaid shirt with its crochet trim and rhinestone studs. “Aren’t you the fancy one?”

  She tugged on her pant leg, revealing more of her boot. “And don’t you love these boots?” They were red, too—beautiful distressed red leather embroidered with hearts and wings and scroll-like flourishes.

  “Very stylish.”

  “As long as I’m going to make a fool of myself, I figure I might as well look good while doing it.”

  “You look terrific.” His eyes said he really meant that.

  The memory of that almost-kiss last night seemed to rise up between them. She felt suddenly shy and looked away. “Thank you.”

  “Joss,” he said gently, “it’s going to be fine. Ready?”

  “No, but I can’t seem to convince you what a bad idea this is, so we might as well get going.” She grabbed her jean jacket and her brand-new hat and off they went.

  * * *

  They got to the resort stable before the rest of Jason’s family arrived, which was great. She would have a little time to practice riding before they started up the mountain.

  The horse the groom led out for her was white with brown spots. Already saddled and wearing a bridle, it seemed somehow a very patient horse. It stood there, flicking its brown tail lazily and making gentle huffing noises as Jace checked the strap that held the saddle on and adjusted the bridle.

  Joss stood well away from the animal. “Um, does it have a name?”

  “Cupcake,” said the groom. He was maybe twenty years old, deeply tanned with freckles and a space between his two front teeth.

  Joss cleared her throat. “It’s a she, then?”

  “Nope. Gelding,” the groom answered. So very cowboylike. Never use a whole sentence when a word or two will do.

  And okay, now she looked, she could see the, er, residual equipment. “Ah, yes.”

  Jace thanked the groom. The fellow tipped his sweat-stained hat and ambled back to the stable.

  “Come on.” Jace held out his hand to her.

  She eyed that hand warily. “I don’t know. I have a bad feeling about this.”

  “Come on,” Jace insisted. He refused to lower his hand.

  So she took it.

  He showed her which side to mount from and boosted her into the saddle. Cupcake made a soft chuffing sound but didn’t move a muscle. Cautiously, she patted the side of his warm, silky neck. “Okay. Can we be done now?” she asked hopefully.

  Jace didn’t answer. He adjusted the stirrups. Then he gave her some instructions: how to hold the reins, how to use her legs to help guide the animal. And a bunch of other stuff she immediately filed under the general heading, Things I’m Too Nervous to Remember.

  He took the reins and led her around in a circle for a while, just so she could get a feel for being on a moving horse. It didn’t seem so bad really. Cupcake was a prince. He walked along calmly, never once balking or trying to go his own way.

  Within a half hour, she was holding the reins and riding Cupcake in a circle, using her knees the way Jace had showed her. She decided that maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.


  His family started arriving in pickups, some of them towing horse trailers. Jace went off to saddle his own horse and Joss kept practicing, continuing in the circle and also stopping, turning and going the other way. Really, it wasn’t so terrible. She was actually getting the hang of it, more or less. On a sweetheart like Cupcake, she might even enjoy herself. When Jason’s mom, looking trim and young in snug jeans and a yellow shirt, called out a greeting, Joss raised her hand in a jaunty wave.

  At a little after eleven, they were all mounted up and ready to go. They formed a caravan and took the road that led to the resort condos farther up the mountain. But before they reached them, Dax Traub, in the lead, turned off onto a tree-shaded trail.

  The rest of them followed. It was nice, Joss thought. Not bad at all, riding along at a steady pace beneath the dappled shadows of the trees. There was a gentle breeze blowing and the air smelled fresh and piney. She followed directly behind Jace, who rode a big black horse named Major. A proud-looking creature, Major tossed his head and pranced and required a lot more handling than Joss ever could have managed.

  She much preferred the calm-natured Cupcake. With him, all she had to do was stay in the saddle and lightly hold the reins. Every now and then, Jace would glance back at her and she would give him a big smile, just to show him that she was doing okay.

  Piece of cake. Seriously. She kind of had a knack for this. Who knew? Jocelyn Marie Bennings, horsewoman. It had a nice ring to it.

  The trail narrowed, but that didn’t seem to faze the sure-footed Cupcake. The mountain, closely grown with tall trees, rose steeply to her left. On the right, the drop-off was dizzying, even with all the trees that might help to block a fall. Joss made a point not to look.

  Jace called back to her, “You doing okay?”

  “Fine. Absolutely. Doing gr—”

  She didn’t get a chance to finish saying great, because Cupcake took his next step and the downward side of the trail crumbled out from beneath his hooves.