She was a playgirl who had never wanted to settle down, who had broken hearts without meaning to.
And she was probably just like Jackson.
“We really are two of a kind,” he said, his arm curved over the steering wheel, careless, casual.
That was when yet another truth hit her, right along with the first one. She realized that Jackson was looking at her just as he always did—with appreciation. This entire time, he hadn’t even seemed to notice that she wasn’t all dolled up.
Whether she liked it or not, that scored a few points with her.
“Laila,” Jackson said, and the sound of her name coming from him was what finally did her in. He had a way of saying it that gave her pleasant shivers.
“Give me another chance,” he said.
She wanted to tell him to get lost, but she was sure that her expression said something else entirely.
Jackson smiled, encouraged. “One more chance. That’s all I’m asking for. Tomorrow night, after you get off work. I’d like to take you to the Gallatin Room up at the resort.”
He was pulling out all the stops, offering to bring her to the fanciest restaurant in Thunder Canyon. Still stubborn as hell, though, she was going to make him work even harder than that.
“I don’t know,” she said.
“Come on, Laila.”
The way he said her name…
Dang it, she couldn’t resist. Why not just one more date?
“Okay,” she said.
“Great.” He sat back in his seat. “I’ll pick you up at your place. Seven o’clock?”
“Seven’s fine.” Boy, how did she manage to sound as if he wasn’t rocking her world?
Now that they had everything straight, he was back to the first order of business. “Are you sure you don’t want that ride?”
“No, thank you.” She wasn’t about to give him a close-up view of Workout Laila Cates, no matter how much he seemed not to notice her dishabille. “I’ll just see you tomorrow.”
“Good enough.” He put the truck in gear. “And Laila?”
She lifted an eyebrow in query.
He jerked his chin at her. “I like how you wear that saucy ponytail.”
With that, he drove away, leaving her to think that even though she had refused his ride today, she was bound to get a wild one tomorrow night.
Chapter Five
“The Gallatin Room,” said Laila’s younger sister, Jasmine, with a sigh as she, Laila and the other three Cates girls gathered in the kitchen at the family ranch just before the first football game of the day. “He’s taking you to the Gallatin Room.”
Holding back a dizzy grin, Laila nodded while putting her tortilla chips into a plastic bowl. The reality of her next date with Jackson had set in, making her a little nervous now.
Nervous, but almost embarrassingly excited.
Her youngest sister, Abby, said, “Fancy times, Laila.”
She sent a smile to Abby, who, in her early twenties, had always grown up in the shadows of all the Cates sisters. But with her long brown hair and big brown eyes, she had just as much going for her as the rest of her family.
Not that she seemed to know it, though.
Laila wished she could tell Abby as much while her youngest sister put together a salad, and Jasmine arranged other snacks on the kitchen table. Annabel and Jordyn helped her.
Jasmine said, “Jackson Traub’s a real looker. Does he have any brothers just like him?”
Jordyn and Annabel laughed at Jazzy’s usual enthusiasm for the opposite sex.
“He’s got a twin in Texas,” Laila said. “But I can’t speak for his status.”
Her sister flipped her long blond ponytail off her shoulder. “Oh? When’s he coming to Montana?”
“Don’t know.”
Jordyn interrupted, still terribly interested in Laila’s business. “So is Jackson as crazy as everyone is saying he is?”
Crazier, Laila thought.
“He’s got his moments,” she said.
As Laila brought her snack bowls to the table, Annabel snagged a tortilla chip.
“He punched out Woody Paulson,” she said. “He sounds kind of dangerous.”
“Dangerous?” Laila laughed. Not for an instant had she ever felt in danger being around Jackson. In fact, he made her feel…
She wanted to say “right at home,” but was that really the case? Because oftentimes, she wasn’t sure that the propulsion of the blood through her veins was very comfortable at all, even if she liked it.
She felt herself blushing and hoped none of her sisters noticed. “He’s not that bad. Jackson’s just…a good-time guy.”
“Mr. Right Now,” Jazzy added.
“Not quite.” Laila leaned against the table. “He’s more like Mr. Defies Definition.”
“That’s just a short-term thing,” Jordyn added, stealing a chip before Annabel could snag another one from the bowl. “Laila, once you get to know him better, he could be a catch, and you’d be a fool to discount him this early on.”
“Yeah,” Annabel said, smacking away Jordyn’s hand from the chip bowl. “Why are you just going on one more date with him and putting the kibosh on any more than that? You should give him more of a chance.”
Behind the kitchen counter, where Abby was gathering silverware, Laila thought she heard a chuff, as if her youngest sister was thinking that Laila didn’t give many men a chance.
Little did Abby know that Jackson had gotten quite the opportunity just yesterday at the lake.
Laila’s skin burned every time she thought about him pressed against her, his body hard and ready…
She cleared her throat, thinking that it was almost time for the blessed game kickoff, and she would be able to escape this sisterly grilling and get to the family room.
“Jackson,” she said, attempting to end the topic, “isn’t going to be around Thunder Canyon long enough for there to be much of any chance, girls.”
“Okay, then,” Annabel said. “So he’ll be out of here soon. But, in the meantime, if Jackson’s a good-looking guy with plenty of money and, as usual, you’re not seeking a permanent commitment, why limit yourself?”
Jordyn wagged her finger in Laila’s direction kiddingly. “That’s all you do is limit yourself, Laila. Just ask poor Cade Pritchett.”
Abby dropped a piece of silverware in the kitchen, and everyone jumped.
“Sorry,” Abby said.
Jazzy didn’t pay any attention to that. “Laila, if you ask me, you’re just plain crazy. Jackson Traub’s a hunk. I’d totally get as much out of him as I could.”
Abby said from the kitchen, “No one is good enough for perfect Laila.”
It sounded as if she was ribbing Laila just as lightly as her other sisters were, but there was a slight prickle to Abby’s tone. Laila had always had the feeling that her youngest sister thought she didn’t deserve all this attention from guys.
She only wished she knew what was going on with Abby today. She wasn’t usually like this, except when it came to talking about men.
Just as Laila was about to ask, the sliding glass porch door opened, and Dad ducked his salt and pepper-haired head inside.
“Ready for the beef?” he asked.
Jazzy laughed, no doubt thinking about the meat market they had just been talking about.
Dad stepped inside, and the aroma of barbecue slipped in, too, right along with Laila’s twenty-year-old brother, Brody, who was carrying a plate of grilled steak strips for soft tacos.
Laila couldn’t help but poke fun at Dad. “Looks like it’s time for your team to lose, Pop.”
He glanced pointedly at the Montana State Bobcats sweatshirt she was wearing with her jeans. “Little girl, your team doesn’t even have any skin in today’s NFL game. You rooting for the Chiefs?”
“If you’re rooting for the Broncos…then yup.”
It had always been this way—Laila getting Dad’s and Brody’s goats by cheering for the opposite footbal
l team on game day. Dad had gone to college in Colorado, taking up the fever for the state’s professional team, too, and he’d passed along his Bronco enthusiasm to his only son. Laila had no allegiances, though—even if, on occasion, she would give in and root for the Broncos, just to make the men in the family happy.
Her sisters, who cared more about the food and the company on their Sundays together than the games themselves, had already lost interest and were beginning to load up their plates.
But Brody was a different story. He pointed at Laila in challenge. “You gonna put your money where your mouth is? How much you have?”
“The usual twenty,” Laila said. “And I’ll use my winnings wisely after the Broncos lose.”
Mom entered the room at that point and, even though Evelyn Cates came off as being at least ten years younger than her fifty-one years, it was like looking into a mirror of the future for Laila. She only hoped that there wouldn’t be a slightly regretful shade of blue in her own eyes.
“I hear you throwing down the gauntlets in here,” Mom said.
Without comment, Abby passed her on the way out of the room, and Mom shot an “Is she okay?” look to Laila.
She merely shook her head, unable to explain. Whatever the case was, though, soon she was going to have a good sit-down with Abby, getting to the bottom of whatever was bugging her sister.
“Is all forgiven?” Jackson asked DJ that afternoon in the Rock Creek Diner, a newer place in Old Town where Jackson had requested they touch base, just so he could make sure he hadn’t caused his cousin more grief after the Woody Paulson incident.
DJ, dressed in a flannel shirt and jeans, stretched an arm over the back of a red-upholstered booth near the front of the establishment. Nearby, at the lunch counter, a few ranch hands were watching the Chiefs/Broncos game, drinking beer and eating burgers.
“Don’t worry about a thing, Jackson,” DJ said. “I might’ve laid into Woody the way you did. I just wasn’t there to do it.”
“Thanks for saying so.”
“Hey, you didn’t make matters any worse with Lip-Smackin’ Ribs than they already were.”
A waitress in braids delivered their food—a Reuben for DJ and a big bowl of chili plus thick sourdough bread for Jackson. They thanked her, and for the first time in Jackson’s life, he didn’t watch a waitress walk away.
It was just that he didn’t have the urge, and that gave him pause.
Did it have anything to do with Laila?
His pulse did a few jumping jacks, and he thought it better to stop thinking about her, even though it had been a near impossibility since seeing her this morning and managing to wheedle another date out of her.
He must have been wearing a goofy kind of smile, because DJ said, “What’s got you so giddy?”
Jackson just shrugged, trying not to offer any more of a tell on his face.
His cousin chuckled. “Heck, I already know about your date with Laila Cates. No reason to explain.”
Jackson had just been about to dig into his chili, but his spoon remained poised above the bowl.
Was it that obvious?
He didn’t like being so transparent. It made him feel stripped bare for a second, and he scrambled to cover up.
“What makes you think I’m getting giddy about Laila Cates?” he asked.
At the lunch counter, he thought he sensed a shifting, so he decided to keep his voice down.
“Whoa,” DJ said, hands up. “Didn’t mean to ruffle your feathers.”
“I’m not ruffled.”
Again, he thought he heard something at the lunch counter. A laugh?
When he glanced over, he saw a couple of cowboys looking at each other, as if they knew what it meant to be ruffled by Laila Cates. Maybe they had even had their hearts broken by her. Who knew?
Jackson’s bachelor pride burned. Worse yet, he even felt as if something was slipping inside him—out and away.
Before he could think twice, he said, “It’s not as if I’m shedding my ways for anyone.”
Not even Laila?
The stray thought bashed into him, but it had no place in his head.
“I see,” DJ said, even though it appeared as though he didn’t—not with that grin he had going as he bit into his sandwich.
“Laila’s about the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and who could resist that? But when I leave Thunder Canyon, I’ll leave. No looking back.”
Out of his peripheral vision, he saw one of the ranch hands at the counter glance over his shoulder, and when Jackson looked over, he recognized him as a guy who’d been at the Hitching Post the other night—the mustached, silver-buckled cowboy who’d seemed more interested than anyone else when Jackson had sat down at Laila’s table.
Now the man’s gaze seemed flinty, as if there was a trace of hard jealousy there, and instead of feeling like the cock of the walk, Jackson just felt as if he had done a wrong to Laila by being so flippant about her.
Before he could say something else to DJ—something that could explain the careless remark he had made—the door to the diner dinged open, and a man and a woman walked through.
At first, the sight of the female’s blond hair and blue eyes threw Jackson for what was definitely a giddy loop. But it was only because he was still thinking of Laila, as if she owned some part of him already.
Then he realized that this woman wasn’t Laila at all, and the brown-haired, green-eyed man in jeans and cowboy boots with her wasn’t just any old guy.
It was Zane Gunther, the country music star.
Everyone in the diner turned in their seats to see him, not only because of his fame, but because he had become a true part of Thunder Canyon lately, after going through a passel of trouble. A young girl had died after one of his concerts, and her parents had brought a civil suit against Zane and his promoter.
He was holding the blond woman’s hand, and Jackson remembered her name now. Jeannette Williams.
There was something special between them. Something that gave a tweak in Jackson’s chest.
The hostess went over to the couple. Other people in the diner did the same, including DJ, who shook their hands.
Putting down his napkin, Jackson followed, thinking the singer could use all the support he could get right now, with his trial coming up in December.
“So good to see the two of you,” said the hostess, a matronly woman with fluffy brown hair.
Zane smiled. “We thought we’d grab a meal before heading down to Austin.”
“What’s in Austin?” asked an old man who leaned against the back of a booth.
“We’ve got some preparation and depositions to take care of for the trial,” Zane said.
DJ spoke up. “You let us know if you can use any character references or anything.”
The group reinforced DJ’s comment, and the hostess said, “We’re behind you all the way.”
Zane and Jeannette seemed touched, and he gripped her hand all the tighter.
“Thank you for that,” he said. “You don’t know how much it means to hear it.”
Just as it seemed the greetings were over, the hostess squealed, then grabbed Jeannette’s hand. “And what’s this?” she asked.
Now that Jackson looked closely, he could see what the hostess was talking about. On Jeannette’s finger, a heart-shaped diamond ring glittered.
As everyone oohed and ahhed, Jackson faded back into the crowd. The sight of an engagement ring made him…itchy.
But the loving looks that Zane and Jeannette were exchanging got to him just as much. It was obvious that with this woman, Zane was going to come through whatever challenges he had to face.
What would it be like to have someone like that by his side, too?
Jackson dismissed the thought. It just felt a little empty to know that some men were built to be with a significant other, and some weren’t. There were no doubts where he stood.
After Zane and Jeannette told everyone that they were hoping to get mar
ried on Valentine’s Day, they thanked the crowd again and were ushered to their booth. DJ and Jackson returned to sit at their own table.
“Nice couple,” Jackson said, just to make conversation, hoping that DJ wouldn’t talk about Laila again.
“Things are going well for them.” DJ wrapped his fingers around his soda glass. “Zane’s going to come out of that legal mess just fine, and as for Jeannette, her job helping with Frontier Days led to her getting a position as an administrative assistant in the mayor’s office. They’ve had a hard run of it recently, but life has turned around for them. Good things couldn’t happen to better people.”
Jackson agreed, and that was why he didn’t ever expect there to be any “good things” like diamond rings or Valentine’s Day marriages in his future.
The next night, Laila had gotten ready for her second date with Jackson way too early, and she was fairly bubbling with anxiety as she sat on her sofa—something she had been doing for about a half hour now.
She ran her hands down the dark blue dress she had chosen. It was straight, silky and maybe a little too sexy with the strappy pumps she had paired with it. And her hair… Was it better to leave it up in this French starlet style or take it down?
She glanced over at her fishbowl, where Lord Vader was happily swimming about.
“Am I overdoing it?” she asked her pet. “Is he going to think I care way more about this date than I actually do?”
Her fish could’ve given a flying fig.
Some confidant.
But watching Lord Vader swim did calm Laila a bit—not enough to still her heart, though. It was just that she kept thinking about the advice her sisters had given her yesterday, how they had encouraged her to keep seeing Jackson, even if there wasn’t a future with him.
So why be nervous if this was such a casual, fun fling?
When she saw a flash of headlights through her curtains, she stood up, adrenaline racing.
But she didn’t go to the door. Not yet. It would be catastrophic if Jackson thought that she had been just waiting here for him like some old maid who didn’t have anything better to do.
The Hard-to-Get Cowboy Page 7
