by Myla Jackson
She thought she could come home to Temptation eight years older and wiser. But one moment alone with Colin and she was the same silly young woman who’d let her libido call the shots. If she wanted to get on with her life, she had stay away from Colin. He made her body lose her mind.
Fancy sighed. “How serious is your mother about my uncle?”
“They’ve been out every other night for the past two weeks.”
“Damn.”
“How serious is your uncle about my mother?” he asked.
“I don’t know.” Fancy shrugged. “I’m living in my parents’ old house. Uncle Carl is living at the Temptation Bed and Breakfast on Main Street. We only see each other when he has questions about the renovations going on at the place I sold to him.”
“Well, ask him what his intentions are toward my mother.”
“I will.” The idea went against her grain. She had never interfered with another couple’s romance. After screwing up her life so royally, she didn’t feel qualified to butt into anyone else’s. “But I’m not promising anything.”
“If you want me out of your life—”
“And I do,” she affirmed.
Colin’s jaw tightened. “Then my mother cannot get together with your uncle.”
He was right. If his mother and her uncle got together on a permanent basis, she’d be forced to spend more time in Colin’s company.
“Look, if you help me break them up,” Colin said, “I’ll get out and stay out of your life.”
“Fine.” She shook her head. “I’ll see what I can do to stop their budding romance.”
Colin stuck out his hand. “Deal?”
“Deal, already.” She stared at his hand. “Do we have to shake on it? Isn’t my word good enough?”
“A proper deal concludes with a handshake.”
Girding her loins, she placed her hand in his.
Colin shook it, but didn’t let go, instead, he yanked on it, sending her crashing into his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and the hard ridge beneath the placard of his jeans pressed into her belly. “Until then, you’re fair game.”
“No way,” she said, hating how breathy her voice sounded.
“Yeah way.” And he kissed her, claiming her lips like a conquering hero, plundering his ill-gotten riches.
At first Fancy struggled against him, raising her hands to his chest to push him away. Instead of pushing against him, her fingers curled into his shirt and dragged him closer. She opened to him and he swept into her mouth for a long, sultry, soul-defining kiss that left her breathless and weak-kneed.
When he let go, he stepped away.
Fancy swayed toward him before she got a grip and squared her shoulders. Reminding herself that he was a player, she marched through the door. But not fast enough.
His big hand swatted her bottom with a firm slap, sending her stumbling out into the hallway and right into Jackson Gray Wolf’s arms.
“Whoa there, little filly,” he said.
His wife, and the owner of the Ugly Stick stuck her head around his side and grinned. “Looks like someone beat us to the storeroom. Did you steam it up in there?”
“Uh, well…I don’t think so.” Fancy’s face burned and she hurried past the couple, noting how big Audrey’s belly was getting with her pregnancy. Something stabbed at Fancy’s gut. A little bit of green-eyed envy, maybe? At twenty-nine, she’d been thinking a lot about settling down and having children. Seeing Audrey’s swollen belly and glowing face brought it home to her that she wasn’t getting any younger. Which was part of the reason she’d returned to Temptation.
This was her home. If she was to have children, she wanted them to grow up in a small town, away from the hustle and bustle of the big city.
“And the answer is yes,” Colin said behind her. “We warmed it up for you two.”
She spun, short of stepping into the barroom, and poked a finger at his chest. “What happened between you and me in that storeroom stays in the storeroom. Understand? I’m not some notch on your bedpost.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t kiss and tell.” He winked, appearing to enjoy the situation a little too much for her liking.
Flustered and still too turned on to be in public, she hurried toward the very end of the bar where her uncle sat so close to Mrs. McFarlan Fancy could hardly tell where one ended and the other began. She marched up to Carl. “We need to talk.”
“Fancy, darling, I’m in the middle of something.” Uncle Carl lifted Mrs. M’s hand and pressed his lips to her knuckles. “As I was saying, your eyes twinkle like starlight when you laugh.”
Maggie smiled, her cheeks turning a rosy pink. “You always were a charmer, Carl.”
The sound system let out a loud electronic shriek and everyone turned toward the stage. Charli Sutton tapped the microphone in her palm, making it squeal again, and then held it to her lips. “Cowboys and cowgirls, tonight we have a special event at the Ugly Stick Saloon. The first annual Ugly Stick Saloon Dance Off!”
The ladies laughed and the men booed, shooting wadded napkins at Charli on the stage.
She laughed good-naturedly and pointed at one of the men. “Nick McBride, I saw you throw that. You men are going to want to be a part of this dance off.”
“Not a chance,” Nick said.
“Dance competitions are for girls,” Mark and Luke Gray Wolf called out from where they stood talking to Libby at the bar.
“Not at the Ugly Stick Saloon,” Charli argued. “You will all be on the floor to win the prize.”
“What? A shiny tiara to go with my rodeo buckle?” Grant said, receiving a backhanded swat to the gut from Mona.
“Shut up and let her finish. I want to know what we’re going to win.” Mona winked at Grant and nodded to Charli to continue.
“The couple will win a pitcher of beer.”
“Eh, that’s not enough to make we want to prance around the dance floor,” Nick said.
“A pitcher of beer every Friday night for a year won’t make you want to dance?” Charli asked.
Nick’s eyes narrowed. “A whole year?”
“A whole year,” Charli confirmed.
Fancy could see the interest in the eyes of all the cowboys and almost laughed. They’d do practically anything for a pitcher of beer. If for nothing else than the competition.
“Now that might be enough to make me want to tiptoe through the tulips with my honey.” Nick rose from his seat and reached for Lacey’s hand. “Come on, darlin’. We have a dance contest to win.”
Lacey Lambert’s lips twisted. “Since when are you a fancy dancer?”
“Since a pitcher of beer is riding on it. For a year.” He dragged her out on the floor and waited for the music.
Grant held out his hand to Mona. “Are you in?”
“Are you sure? If you’re good enough, it could be a lot of dancing.” She slid her hand into his.
“Can’t be worse than bull-riding.”
“Hun, that’s only an eight-second ride, max,” Mona pointed out. “And we’re going for quality, or we’ll be gone in less than eight seconds.”
“Are you telling me you don’t think I’m good enough. That I won’t last?” Grant puffed out his chest. “The challenge is on.”
One by one couples made their way to the dance floor.
Uncle Carl grabbed Mrs. M’s hand, and they ran for it, laughing.
So much for getting her uncle alone to talk him out of seeing the McFarlan matriarch.
Fancy had to talk sense into her uncle. She couldn’t go to family dinners or reunions with the McFarlans. What if Colin married someone else? She’d be forced to watch them hugging and kissing, loving each other when it could have been her.
Colin headed toward the dance floor, bearing down on the older couple. Greta Sue stepped in front of him
before he could put one foot in the dance area.
“Got a partner, partner?” Greta Sue folded her arms and glared at Colin.
Fancy chuckled. Trust Greta Sue to make sure people played fair at the Ugly Stick. She was a damned good bouncer. Though Greta Sue was tough as nails, Fancy had known her for a long time. Behind her tough exterior lay a heart of gold. She’d do anything for Audrey and Jackson. And God forbid someone try to harm one of the staff members. Greta Sue would be right there.
“Where did you get off to?” Dusty appeared at her side, a mug of beer in his grip.
Her cheeks heating, Fancy didn’t face the man. “I had some business I had to take care of.”
“Did everything come out all right?”
Her belly knotted. “Yes, it did.” Better than she could ever have expected, yet worse, in that she’d done exactly what she’d sworn off doing. If only she’d had a little self-control and resisted the magnetic draw of Colin McFarlan, her gut wouldn’t be in a tight twist.
Across the barroom floor, Colin was hitting on the Banks twins again.
Fancy’s hands balled into fists, her fingernails digging into her palm. How could he go from making love to her in the storeroom to flirting with twins who were half his age?
Okay, so maybe Fancy was exaggerating, but there had to be at least a ten-year difference in his and their ages. What did a man Colin’s age see in women that young?
Someone without baggage.
He drew one of the young ladies out onto the dance floor and spun her into a waltz, taking off after his mother and Fancy’s uncle.
“Sometimes I get this feeling that women don’t see or hear me,” Dusty was saying.
“I’m sorry.” Fancy dragged her gaze from Colin and forced herself to focus on the man she’d come with. “What was it you were saying?”
Dusty’s lips twisted. “Nothing.”
“Good.” She grabbed his hand and started across the floor. “Let’s dance.” She had to get to her uncle and talk sense into him before Colin did something completely stupid. There had to be a way to break up Maggie and Carl’s little romance before it became too serious, and she had to do it without making a big mess of it.
Fancy couldn’t go through life watching Colin with his next conquest, and the next. Or, God forbid, a wife and children.
Chapter Three
Colin swung Alexis back onto the dance floor since her sister refused to enter the dance-off with him, claiming he was too busy watching everyone else to last past the first round of eliminations.
Still stinging from Fancy’s rejection, he was hell bent on putting a stop to Carl Landers’s pursuit of his mother. The man was no better than a snake oil salesman. Slippery as an oil slick, and far too charming for it to be real.
Which made Colin think the man was after more than his mother’s affection. Stopping in mid dance step, it came to Colin. Landers wanted the Rafter M Ranch. What man with that kind of charm courted a woman in her mid-fifties? A man who wanted to get his hands on her inheritance.
Just like his mother said, she had full control over what happened to the ranch. The McFarlan sons had no say in how she managed it. If she wanted to sell it, she could. If she remarried, half of everything she owned became her husband’s. Should she die before her husband, he’d inherit everything, not her sons.
Angus, Brody and Colin would have nothing left of their inheritance.
Fuck!
“Excuse me?” Alexis arched her brows. “Something bothering you?”
Colin scowled across the room at Carl and his mother. “Yeah. A snake oil salesman.”
“Seriously?” Alexis frowned up at him. “Are you going to bust into their dance again? I thought you wanted to be in this competition to win.” She turned to walk away.
Cory McBride, one of the judges eyed him and started their way.
Colin yanked Alexis back into his arms, spun her around and executed a few fancy moves that seemed to satisfy the erotic dancer in Cory enough that he moved on.
As soon as the younger man strolled by, Colin fast-danced over to Carl and his mom.
“Colin McFarlan,” his mother warned, “if you don’t stop bothering us, I’ll…I’ll…”
Colin grinned. “You’ll what?”
She glared at him. “You’re never too old for a spanking with my favorite wooden spoon.”
The remembered sting of the wooden spoon on his bottom when he was five made him pause in his pursuit. Then he shook himself. “I’m not five anymore, Mom.”
His mother’s mouth pressed into a tight line. “Good. Then you will understand when I tell you to go away.”
Carl danced his mother away, twirled her under his arm, spun her out and pulled her back against his body. The man had all the moves and Colin’s mother was enjoying it far too much.
Colin hated seeing her so happy, knowing Landers was probably after one thing—her vast land holdings. What the man was doing was immoral, unethical and downright mean.
“Hey, cowboy, focus on the contest or we’re going to be eliminated.” Alexis pinched his arm. “Here comes Cory. Show him you can actually dance.”
He knew how to dance. And as much as he hated to admit it, Fancy had it right. He, Colin McFarlan, was known as a heartbreaker. How many women had he dated and dropped? Somewhere in the past eight years, he’d lost count. None of them made his blood rage or his body ignite. Not one had captured his heart. They were all nice young women, but they weren’t…right.
With Cory heading his way again, Colin executed an intricate turn, guiding Alexis under his arm, back out and around behind him. As he returned her to his side, Colin’s gaze found Fancy, dancing again with Dusty.
Damned if they didn’t look good together.
Then it struck him why the women he dated never seemed quite right for him. One moment alone with Fancy and he was right back where he’d been eight years ago—hot, bothered and unable to control his wilder urgings. Hell, he’d broken the brother code with Fancy: Don’t fuck your brother’s girl.
If Fancy planned on staying in Temptation and wanted nothing to do with him, he might just have to move to another city. It wasn’t like he could get lost in the crowd in such a small town. He’d see her everywhere. Eight years of her living in Dallas hadn’t been enough to forget how he felt for her. A lifetime of seeing her in Temptation as someone else’s girl…
For a brief moment, he entertained the idea of convincing her he wasn’t a hit-and-run kind of guy. Brody was in love with Jessie now. He’d forgiven Colin for betraying him, and had gone so far as to give him the go-ahead to pursue Fancy again—no hard feelings.
After making love with her in the storeroom, Colin would say there was still a spark between them. Hell, a raging fire. But she wasn’t ready to commit to him.
Laughter drew his attention back to Fancy. She and Dusty were looking pretty good as dance partners. Nick and Lacey had been eliminated along with Grant and most of the others. That left his mother and Carl, Dusty and Fancy, him and Alexis and two other couples.
Alexis laid a palm on his face. “Look, either tinkle or get off the pot. If you could stay focused for more than a minute, we have a chance of winning this thing.”
Colin didn’t give a rat’s ass about winning the contest. But he didn’t want Dusty to win either. Or Carl, for that matter. It was as if by winning, the men would cement their claims on their partners. That was the last thing Colin wanted. Not that it applied to him. Alexis was nice enough, but too young.
“Let’s do this.” Colin threw everything he knew about country-western style dancing into the dance off, guiding Alexis with a firm, if somewhat dictatorial hand. She followed, keeping up with grace and style.
Cory tapped the shoulder of a cowboy, one of the last five couples left on the dance floor. He strode toward Dusty, swerved and tapped the other couple.
Now it was down to three dueling couples. Dusty—good Lord, where had he learned to dance—swept Fancy along in an exceptional two-step, making it interesting with twists and turns.
Colin shot a glance toward his mother and Carl.
The older man held Colin’s mother close, dipped her low and bent to press his lips to hers.
Shocked to his boots, Colin stumbled. He dragged his gaze toward Dusty and Fancy and his heart stopped dead in his chest. Dusty had Fancy in a similar position, holding her bent over his arm, leaning over her, his mouth inches from hers.
No!
Colin took a step toward Dusty, tripped over Alexis and slid across the floor, landing at Dusty’s feet.
Cory shook his head and jerked his thumb. “You’re out, Colin.”
Dusty straightened, bringing Fancy along with him, a devilish smile curling his lips. “Need a hand up, McFarlan?” the sheriff’s deputy had the nerve to ask.
“I sure as hell don’t.” He rolled to his feet and advanced on Dusty, wanting to punch the smirk off the man’s face.
Fancy stepped between them. “You’re out of the competition, Colin.” Her gaze emphasized the message and the double entendre.
“Colin, are you causing trouble?” his mother’s voice came to him from behind.
And if he thought it wasn’t embarrassing enough to trip over his feet in front of everyone in the saloon, and having the girl he’d made love to telling him it was over—his mother scolding him in public? Well that just topped off his night.
Colin spun, grabbed Alexis’s hand and walked her to the table where her sister sat with a smirk matching Dusty’s on her face. “Thank you for the dance,” he gritted out.
Colin debated leaving the saloon, but headed for the bar instead.
Angus was there with a whiskey shooter in his hand. “You look like you could use this more than me.” He handed Colin the glass and clapped him on the shoulder. “If it means anything, you were my top pick to win, until you fell on your face.”
Colin tossed the whiskey back in one swallow and slammed the glass on the counter. “Another.” The alcohol burned a path down his throat, warming his insides.
