Claimed by a Cowboy

by Tanya Michaels

  AT FIRST, LORELEI HAD thought Sam would refuse her offer to buy him dinner or a drink. Yet once they were buckled into his truck, he’d relented. She breathed a little easier as he steered them toward a place where Sam said the barbecue was decent. Lorelei was an extremely independent person who was uncomfortable feeling beholden to other people—even sharing her workload with Celia had driven her a little nuts. After all Sam had done, from offering to give her the inn to his willingness to listen to her talk about her family, she desperately wanted to repay his kindness.

  She hadn’t meant to become bitchy and defensive last night when he’d brought up their fathers. His insight had simply thrown her. It sounded disloyal and illogical for a daughter to be mad at her father for contracting a disease he’d had no control over.

  Somewhere between the Marktplatz and their destination south of town, the steady drizzle began pelting them with real force. Sam increased the speed of the windshield wipers twice before they pulled into a mostly empty parking lot. She guessed that the tables on the covered patio were a popular place to eat when the rain wasn’t coming down in billowing sheets.

  Sam’s sudden laugh took her by surprise and she whipped her head around to find out what was funny. He gave her a sardonic smile. “I guess this evening would be the perfect time for one of those ‘umbrella’ devices I’ve heard tell of. Here.” He leaned toward the steering wheel, shrugging out of his denim jacket. “It’s not exactly waterproof, but it’ll help.”

  She wanted to tell him that the gesture was sweet but unnecessary. Except that her words evaporated as she studied the muscles in his arms. It was ridiculous how good the man looked in a short-sleeved black T-shirt. The denim was still warm from his body, and when she shrugged into it, Sam’s scent enveloped her. It was as though he’d let her borrow an embrace rather than just a coat.

  He reached for his door handle and flashed her a rakish grin. “Ready to make a run for it?”

  Laughing, they bolted through the rain. By the time they reached the entrance, Lorelei’s hair clung to her face in wet ropes and she knew what little makeup she’d applied that morning was probably streaked unattractively across her face. But she couldn’t bring herself to care. In fact, she felt breathlessly giddy in a way she hadn’t since she was a young girl.

  Inside, the country music twanging through the sound system competed with the rolling thunder and the rain splatting against the metal roof. This was a multipurpose place, serving as bar, restaurant and dance hall. There wasn’t much of a crowd, but a few couples swayed on the red oak floor.

  “You mind sitting at the bar?” Sam asked. “The food’s good, but most of the tables are out on the patio.”

  “Bar works for me.”

  They found seats and consulted the menu, which was nothing like the complex offerings at Grace’s restaurant. No, here the food choices were simple and limited: pork barbecue sandwich, pork barbecue ribs, cole slaw, baked beans, side salad and steak fries. Period.

  Lorelei chuckled. “What, no dessert menu?”

  Sam pointed toward the fully stocked bar opposite them. “I think they make some kind of chocolate martini thing on request. But you’d probably be more of a lemon drop girl. I know how you like a little tart with the sweet.”

  A ruddy-faced bartender with freckles peeking out around his dark red beard came over to them and greeted Sam by name. Then he took their orders of two sandwiches and a side of fries to split. By the time the food came out, people had started trickling into the bar.

  Sam checked his watch. “Must be about time for happy hour.”

  Lorelei swiped one of the thick fries through ketchup and popped it into her mouth. She closed her eyes in bliss. “If I lived in Fredericksburg, I’d be here every night for the fries alone.” When she opened her eyes again, she shook her head. “That settles it. I can’t ever move back. Between Grace’s restaurant and these fries and the chocolate shops on Main Street—”

  “And the vendors at Oktoberfest and sausage from Dutchman’s Market,” Sam added.

  “Exactly. I’d be the size of a house.” She grabbed another fry. “But since I’m leaving soon, might as well enjoy it while I’m here!”

  Sam leaned back on his bar stool, his expression pensive. “Do you ever think about coming back? Ever miss it?”

  Lorelei paused, wanting to give him a real answer and not just a knee-jerk response. “I love Texas. In theory. But…I don’t—I’ve never felt like I love who I am when I’m here.” She glanced up from beneath her lashes to see if he was laughing at her inane answer.

  But his gaze was contemplative, as if she’d said something worth considering instead of jumbled nonsense. “You love who you are in Philadelphia?”

  People didn’t openly mock her there and she wasn’t reminded of the parents she’d lost every time she turned a corner, so that was a start. “I excelled in college in a way I didn’t going to school here. I mean, I was always good at the academic part, but I didn’t quite fit in.” Especially after other students went out of their way to make sure of that. “At the university, I found other people like me, people who looked up to me. In Philadelphia, I feel like someone who’s got her act together, someone who’s respected and is going to move up at her company.”

  And here, she felt like a frustrated daughter trapped in a cycle with her mother constantly disappointing each other. Although, Lorelei supposed that cycle had ended now.

  She pushed her plate away. “Ever since I got here, you and other people have been telling me how special Wanda was. I don’t disagree,” she added quickly. “She was completely her own person, comfortable in her skin in a way I envy. She was lively and free-spirited. But being so utterly different from her…”

  “Did you worry you weren’t special, too?” he teased lightly.

  She graced him with a half smile, appreciating his attempt to keep her from getting too maudlin. “I tried to talk to her some about how I felt, how I didn’t fit in at school, how much I missed Dad. But those conversations never made me feel any closer to her. Mom lived in her own happy bubble of denial. Like the way other kids treated me was irrelevant, like Dad wasn’t really gone. He just ‘existed on a different plane.’ I stopped coming to her because she seemed so disappointed in my outlook, my inability to be like her. In Philadelphia, I can be Lorelei without feeling like I need to apologize for it every five minutes.”

  Winding down, she took a deep breath. “All right. This is twice we’ve gone out to dinner and twice I’ve unloaded on you. No more, I promise.” But beneath the sheepishness, she felt a glimmer of satisfaction. She’d finally managed to discuss her family, a difficult topic for her, without getting short-tempered with Sam.

  “I shouldn’t have been so hard on you before for not visiting her,” he said. “You have to understand, from my perspective… She missed you so much. I’m not saying that to make you feel guilty,” he hastily assured her. “Just so you know, however different the two of you were, she loved you. And I can actually understand staying away. My mom lives in Dallas, and there’s nothing stopping me from visiting her.”

  “When was the last time you saw her?”

  “The twins’ high school graduation. She got pregnant pretty quickly after her second marriage. It was one of the reasons she gave my uncle for not rushing right back to get me. First, it was they were newlyweds and needed time to make their union a strong foundation before adding me to the mix. Then it was that she was just so overwhelmed with having two babies at once and I was better off where I was than if I were uprooted again. My half sisters seem like nice enough girls, if too superficial, but when I’m at the house… Let’s just say, I know what you mean about not fitting into your own family.”

  She reached out and squeezed his hand. “Thank you. It’s nice to think someone kind of understands, even though I wish things had been dif
ferent for you.”

  “I don’t know. Our experiences shape us,” he said philosophically. “I doubt I would have been happier growing up in the country club suburb than out on the ranch with JD. And if my past had been different, I’d be different, too. I might not be the delightful person you see before you now,” he deadpanned.

  She guffawed at that. “Yeah, delightful is totally the first adjective that springs to mind whenever I think of you.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “How—” He straightened abruptly, losing his smile.

  “Sam? What is it, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing, really.” He stifled an aggrieved groan. “It’s dumb. But you know how you were saying earlier you wanted to make up for last night? Save me from that woman, and we’ll be even. More than even, I’ll owe you!”

  Lorelei laughed, remembering how uncomfortable he’d been at the Jalapeño when she’d speculated that the waitress had a crush on him. If Sam was going to swagger around town being a sexy six-feet-plus cowboy, he had to expect a little female interest. She swiveled her head to see who had him running scared. A woman with streaked blond hair and incredibly long legs was sauntering through the crowd, a predatory expression on her striking face.

  A face Lorelei suddenly recognized. “Babs? Oh, hell no.”

  “I take it you’ve met my stalker?”

  Chapter Ten

  Sam always dreaded being cornered by Barbara, partly because she was the adored younger cousin of a horse rancher who frequently gave Sam work. And I’d miss working with those Thoroughbreds. While Sam tried not to insult the woman outright, he brushed her off as firmly as courtesy allowed. Did she persist because she was that confident in her own charms, because she loved a challenge or because she was simply too spoiled to accept not getting something she thought she wanted?

  Ironically, if Sam ever actually dated her, she’d probably dump him. Everything about the blonde screamed high-maintenance. Who spent hundreds of dollars on a pair of boots that would be ruined if you ever wore them into a barn?

  Yet now, for the first time in memory, Sam felt something other than weary resignation when he spotted Barbara prowling toward him. He was curious over the sudden bright spots of color in Lorelei’s cheeks. She snapped her gaze back to him and pasted a wide, patently false smile on her face.

  “Stick with me, cowboy,” she muttered, barely moving her lips. “I’ve got this covered.”

  He grinned. Things just got interesting. Lorelei once again reached for his hand, the one she’d squeezed in empathy moments ago. This time she laced her fingers through his and dropped their hands atop the bar.

  “There you are, Sammy!” Barbara’s voice was habitually breathless. No doubt some men found it sexy, but it always left Sam biting back the advice that if she didn’t wear such tight shirts, she could probably get more oxygen. It seemed at first as if she planned to ignore Lorelei’s presence entirely, but then her blue eyes narrowed on their joined hands. Barbara’s smile tightened. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?”

  “Why, Babs!” Lorelei’s voice came out far more breathy than usual, and it was all Sam could do not to laugh at the subtle imitation. “I’m hurt you don’t remember me. Lorelei Keller? We were in class together from practically kindergarten to graduation. Not that I’d expect you to remember me after so many years. High school was a lifetime ago, wasn’t it?”

  Barbara’s nostrils flared slightly at the insinuation that they were no longer young women.

  “I hear you’re married now,” Lorelei said brightly. “To Trace Collins, isn’t it?”

  “We’re divorced, actually.”

  “After Trace, she married Vance Emmett,” Sam inserted. “But they divorced, too.”

  “Oh.” Lorelei’s forehead crinkled in a sympathetic frown. “But don’t you worry, sugar. Pretty gal like you is sure to find your Mr. Right! I’d love to catch up more, but Sam was just about to take me out onto the dance floor.” She winked and lowered her voice to a conspiratorial woman-to-woman pitch. “And when a guy like Sam wants to hold you…well, how could I pass up that?”

  Lorelei slid off her stool, her hand still clasped with his, and led him onto the floor. He immediately tugged her into his arms, loving the excuse to bring her close. Keeping one hand at her shoulder, he slid his other hand down to her waist. It took real self-discipline not to let his touch drift farther, following the tantalizing flare of her hips.

  As they shuffled into a basic two-step, Sam smiled down at her, his tone full of admiration. “You are a very bad person.”

  “You know, I was admitting that very thing to someone this afternoon.” Her brown eyes gleamed, and no matter how obviously she tried, she couldn’t stifle her grin.

  Sam didn’t think she’d ever looked sexier as she failed to quell her unrepentant mischievousness. “Thanks for your assistance. When I asked you to save me, I didn’t realize you’d throw yourself into the task with so much gusto.”

  There were a lot more dancers circling the wood floor than there had been when Sam and Lorelei had first arrived this evening. As they took a turn, he had to pull her tighter against him. Her chest brushed his, and he momentarily lost his rhythm in the soft press of her body. Their legs tangled, her skirt swishing against his jeans. Logically, he knew he couldn’t feel it through the denim, but his skin prickled as if she’d stroked his flesh with the silky material.

  “I was happy to help,” Lorelei said. “Probably too happy. I didn’t realize I was such a petty vindictive person. It’s a little depressing, really.”

  “From what I know of you—and of Barbara—I’m sure she had that coming.”

  “Back in the day, she had a lot of not very nice things to say about me. And said equally unkind things about Wanda,” she added darkly.

  Well, that cinched it—Barbara’s chances of winning Sam over were officially lower than the odds of a man who’d never purchased a ticket hitting the Lotto Texas jackpot. Wanda had been a nurturing soul who’d always managed to find good in people. What possible reason could someone have for running her down?

  He didn’t want to glance toward the bar to see if they had an audience. He’d much rather look into Lorelei’s eyes. “She still there?”

  Lorelei bobbed her head in the affirmative. “Glaring daggers into me over the top of her martini glass. Maybe she’s changed over the years, but the Babs I remember doesn’t give up easily.”

  “Are you saying we should try harder to dissuade her?” He steered Lorelei toward the edge of the floor, out of the path of other dancers.

  “Whatever you need,” Lorelei said blithely. “I’m just here to play decoy. And, apparently, act out juvenile vengeance.”

  He stopped moving, steadying her when she almost stumbled. She glanced up reflexively, her brows drawing together in question. He slid the hand on her shoulder behind her neck, through the rumpled waves of her hair, and leaned down. He could actually see her pulse stutter in the hollow of her throat, hear her breathing change.

  She made no move to discourage him or duck away, though. Far from it—the barely banked wickedness in her eyes blazed back to life, but there was no accompanying humor this time. Only heat.

  Oh, God. Sam’s about to kiss me. Shock and desire bloomed within Lorelei. And then, just like that, he was kissing her. Without any fumbling hesitation, his mouth had covered hers. Lorelei froze temporarily, surprised this was actually happening. It was entirely unlike her.

  Was it?

  She’d imagined this plenty, and now she had the opportunity to experience it firsthand. He teased his tongue over her lower lip. The sensation that quivered through her jolted her from her trance. She parted her lips, and he took the movement for the invitation it was. As their kiss deepened, Lorelei started to feel light-headed, flushed with warmth and
a greedy craving for more. Sam’s mouth put to shame all the wines she’d tried yesterday, intoxicating in a completely different way.

  A sharp moan escaped her and she dimly registered that his palm was cupping the back of her head as if he was trying to press her closer. Which was funny, really, because she’d already voluntarily moved as close as two fully dressed people could physically be. That thought led to imagining them not fully dressed and sheer need stabbed through her.

  Without relaxing his hold on her, Sam tilted his head back, resting his forehead on hers as they caught their breath. Lorelei was practically panting. She should probably feel embarrassed about that—they’d been making out like hormone-crazed teenagers in front of an audience! But right now the rising lust far outweighed any mortification.

  Sam eyed her with a combination of awe and wariness, as if she were some dangerous temptress. “You may be bad, but you are one hell of a good kisser.”

  Back at you, cowboy. Her mind seemed to be in working order, but her body was still too dazed for her to form words. They just stared at each other. Lorelei didn’t know how long they would have remained there, motionless, if a sudden burst of thunder hadn’t made her jump. She’d completely forgotten about the storm. Which wasn’t surprising, since she’d also forgotten about the roomful of people, including Barbara.

  Lorelei heard herself giggle, a very unsophisticated sound.

  “Please tell me you’re not laughing at the way I kiss,” Sam said. “The male ego is very fragile.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I noticed how shy and uncertain you were. You expect me to believe women haven’t already told you that you kiss like a pagan god?”

  “Ah.” The word was a rumble of satisfaction. “My ego thanks you. So what’s funny?”

  “I just don’t think that when Barbara made her beeline across the bar toward you that this was the end result she imagined.”