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  “Might as well.” Gabe sounded as cheerful as Sarah.

  Strangely, Jack was feeling a little lighter, too. “See you all later.” He touched the brim of his hat as he glanced at Sarah and Mary Lou.

  “Bye, Jack!” Mary Lou beamed at him.

  “And thanks,” Sarah added.

  “No problem.” It would be, but he’d handle it with as much grace as possible. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. He left the kitchen knowing full well that Gabe, Sarah and Mary Lou would discuss his situation with Josie the minute he was out of earshot.

  As he walked down the hallway and into the living room with its beamed ceilings, gigantic rock fireplace and buckets of family memories, he thought about the irony of the situation. Sarah was forcing him to interact with Josie. When Jonathan was alive, he’d actively tried to discourage the relationship.

  To be fair, his dad hadn’t disliked Josie so much as he’d disliked the man Jack became after he’d started seeing her. Until then, Jack had been up with the sun every morning, helping his father and acting like a true rancher’s son.

  But Josie had changed all that. Jack had fallen into the habit of helping her close the bar and then spending the night with her. As a bar owner, Josie’s hours were the opposite of a rancher’s. She stayed up late and slept in. When Jack started keeping her schedule, Jonathan had let his displeasure be known.

  Not about to be ordered around, Jack had continued his new routine. He’d argued with his father about it many times. Jonathan’s insistence on getting the filly that fateful morning had been less about fetching the horse than about proving who was in charge. Jack hadn’t wanted his dad to win, but the cost of that battle of wills had been too high.

  Jack refused to get into a similar battle with Sarah. He’d do what she wanted, and if he could present the situation well enough to Josie, she would agree, too. As he left the ranch house and climbed into his truck, he realized Sarah had done him a favor. His pride wouldn’t have allowed him to contact Josie, but this lesson scheme gave him an excuse. And despite his misgivings, he was glad for it.

  4

  JOSIE BARELY HAD TIME to wrap her head around Morgan’s request that she be a maid of honor before she had to be downstairs taking a delivery of beer. Good thing her cook, Andy, was there to double-check everything, because Josie was having trouble concentrating.

  All she could think about was this wedding coming up in less than two weeks, a wedding that would involve Jack. And horses. Morgan had promised her that the riding would be no big deal. Josie could go to any of a number of stables in the area and get some basic instruction.

  The horseback riding didn’t worry Josie all that much. She’d learned to ski as an adult, so she could learn to ride. In fact, a ski vacation had been her introduction to Jackson Hole.

  She’d come back several times before realizing that if she truly intended to buy a bar, she wanted it to be in this area. And that decision had led to her meeting Jack Chance.

  As the beer truck pulled away, she glanced at her watch. The bar opened for lunch at eleven-thirty, which gave her fifteen minutes to get her act together. At least someone else would be behind the bar. Josie turned the operation over to Tracy Gibbons on weekdays and she occupied herself with the computer in the office.

  She had bills to pay and books to reconcile, but she wondered how much she’d accomplish when all she could think about was the darned wedding…and Jack. She would have loved to talk this over with Alex, but he’d left early in the morning to hike in the Tetons.

  On second thought, she should decide how she planned to handle this turn of events before telling Alex. He might want to confront Jack, after all, now that his sister would be required to be in Jack’s company for the better part of a weekend. Josie didn’t want Alex and Jack to square off again. Once was enough.

  So Alex would have to cool it, and somehow Josie would manage to get through the wedding without letting Jack know he’d ripped open the wound she’d been trying so desperately to heal. With a sigh of resignation, she walked through the back door of the bar into her tiny office and turned on the computer.

  The scent of onions simmering in olive oil told her Andy had started cooking the lunch entrées. Usually by now she was hungry, but not today. Her tummy twisted in knots at the thought of eating. She’d have to get over her nerves in the next ten days, though, or she wouldn’t be much good to Morgan as a maid of honor. The bride was the only one allowed to be nervous.

  As she waited for the computer to load its various programs, a gut-wrenchingly familiar knock sounded at the back door. She and Jack had devised a code so she’d know in advance it was him—three soft raps and two harder ones.

  Ten months ago that rap would have been a signal to fling open the back door of the office and pull him in for a scorching kiss. Sometimes they’d gone beyond a mere kiss. On at least three occasions she’d locked both doors—the one to the outside and the one leading into the bar—and they’d had sex in her office.

  This morning the door to the bar stood open and she could hear Andy banging around in the kitchen. Tracy would arrive any minute, along with any customers who liked to get an early start on their lunch or a midday beer.

  She could imagine why Jack was here. Undoubtedly it had something to do with the wedding. And so it started, their required interaction. Taking a deep breath, she left her chair and opened the back door.

  Ten months rolled away as her gaze swept over the cowboy standing there. His black hat shaded his eyes, making their dark depths look sexy and mysterious. His hat was slightly dusty. So was the rest of him, including a blue plaid western shirt, faded jeans and well-worn boots.

  Jack hadn’t spruced up for the occasion. He’d come straight from whatever work he’d been involved in this morning. The combined scent of leather and sweat had become an aphrodisiac to her during the months they were together, and it had lost none of its punch. Damn it all, she still wanted him with a ferocity that left her shaking.

  But wanting him wasn’t the only issue. Being alone with him filled her with nostalgia for the days when Jack had been her entire world. She’d been giddy with happiness, floating through her daily routine in anticipation of spending her nights with Jack. She had to believe that he’d enjoyed their time together just as much, because he’d used every possible excuse to be with her.

  She took a long, restorative breath. “Is this about the wedding?” There, that sounded sufficiently curt and businesslike.

  “Yes.” His dark gaze flicked over her in much the same way she’d surveyed him.

  She wished now that she’d taken more time with her hair, her clothes, her makeup. She’d thrown on an old pair of jeans, her most comfortable boots and a T-shirt that said—unfortunately—Save A horse; Ride A cowboy.

  “I remember that shirt,” Jack said.

  She remembered doing exactly what the shirt recommended. But she wouldn’t be repeating that with Jack, no matter how much she might want to.

  They needed to stay on track here. “You wanted to talk to me about something concerning the wedding?”

  “Uh, yeah. Right. We…that is…listen, can I come in and discuss it?”

  “Sure.” She stepped back to allow him to enter. She might as well test herself and see if she could handle being behind closed doors with him. It wasn’t as if they’d be really alone, anyway. Andy was nearby and Tracy would be here any time now.

  All that rationalization disappeared the minute she closed the door and turned to face him. Every kiss, every touch, every minute of lovemaking came back to her. If she’d hoped the attraction was manageable, she’d been dead wrong. She ached for what used to be.

  Maybe if she took refuge behind her desk, that would help. She retreated to her own chair and motioned to an armless wooden one on the opposite side of the desk. She used it when interviewing employees. “Have a seat.”

  Typical Jack, he spun the chair around and straddled it, leaning his forearms on the back. He would have to sit
like that. Dear God, why did his jeans have to fit so lovingly over his package?

  He nudged his hat back with his thumb and gazed at her. “Looks like we’ll have to deal with each other during the festivities.”

  “Guess so.” His voice stroked her nerve endings. She picked up a pen and started clicking the mechanism before realizing how idiotic that looked. She threw it down. “I’m sure we can do that.”

  “I’m sure we can, too, but Gabe knew I went to your place last night, and I ended up having to tell him and Sarah what happened with your brother.”

  “Oh.” Josie would have loved a video of that scene.

  “So they’re convinced that you and I are a potential powder keg that could blow in the middle of the celebration.” Jack tapped his thumb idly against the back of the chair.

  She knew how talented he was with that thumb. Yes, they might be a powder keg, but she feared the explosion would have to do with lust, not anger. Just sitting in this small office with Jack, her breathing had changed and her panties were damp. “They don’t give us much credit for self-control, do they?”

  “They might have if I hadn’t thrown a punch at your brother. But after hearing about that, they’ve made a request, and I think we should honor it.”

  “I promised Morgan I’d be in the wedding, Jack. I can’t go back on that promise.”

  “Nobody’s asking you to. But Gabe and Sarah want some proof that we can get along like two civilized adults. So they figured if I was the one to teach you how to ride, then we’d work through our differences and be okay for the wedding.”

  “Are you insane? I don’t want you to teach me how to ride. That’s a disaster in the making.” She’d never in a million years be able to keep her hands off him if they embarked on a project like that.

  “No, it won’t be a disaster. We’ll make it work, and by the time the wedding rolls around, we won’t be as likely to get teed off at each other.”

  He was a hottie, but he was an irritating hottie. “What’s all this we stuff? I didn’t throw a punch. Why don’t you just say that they’re worried about you and stop implying that it’s my problem, too?”

  He sighed. “All right. They’re worried about me, but in order not to be worried, they’ve asked me to give you riding lessons.”

  “I’ve heard that cold showers can lower your testosterone level.”

  “Don’t be a smart-ass. This is serious.”

  “No, it’s not. It’s silly. I’ll behave myself during the wedding, and if you can’t, then pop a Valium.”

  His gaze grew hot. “Look, I told them I’d do this, damn it. Just go along with it, okay?”

  “Why should I?”

  “You need to learn how to ride, for one thing.”

  “I’ll do what Morgan suggested and use one of the stables. I don’t want you teaching me to ride, Jack, and that’s final.” She could imagine it now. Him demonstrating a proper seat, her fixated on his buns, him astride the saddle, her wanting him astride her body.

  “Why not?”

  She’d take splinters under her fingernails before she’d tell him that. “Because you’re bossy.”

  He nodded. “Fair enough. How about this? You’ll be free to tell me to go to hell whenever I get too bossy.”

  “I’ve always felt free to tell you to go to hell.”

  A ghost of a smile flickered. “True.”

  That smile tugged at her heart. He used to smile all the time. They used to laugh and joke, even in bed.

  Jack cleared his throat. “Tell you what. How about we try it for one lesson? If you really hate it, then we’ll quit.”

  She could see he wanted her to agree, but she wasn’t sure exactly why. Apparently he’d told Gabe and Sarah that he’d do this, so it might be a matter of pride, but she sensed something else, an eagerness that had nothing to do with his family’s request.

  “Why is this so important to you?”

  “Well, I said I would, for one thing. But…” He paused and glanced down at his hands. “I’ve given you the impression I’m only interested in sex.”

  “It’s more than an impression. You flat out said so in October.”

  He raised his head and gave her a soul-melting gaze. “I’d like a chance to correct that.”

  Oh, God. It was the one thing he could say that would make a difference. And when he looked at her like that, she couldn’t refuse him anything. He probably knew it, probably had used his powerful charisma on purpose to get what he wanted.

  Her pulse raced, but she did her best to appear bored with the subject. “All right, Jack.”

  Did he really intend to prove that he could be with her and not act on the sexual tension that had always existed between them, that existed even now, in this very room? And if he could be strong enough to resist temptation, could she?

  Dismounting smoothly from the chair, he stood. “We should start with just an hour lesson.”

  She stood, too, but she didn’t move from behind the desk. Too dangerous. “Just remember, it could be over in five minutes.”

  “It won’t be.”

  She’d always found his confidence sexy and now was no exception. “If you say so.”

  “It’ll be fine. Can you be out at the ranch at nine in the morning? I know that’s early for you, but—”

  “I’ll be there. We might as well find out right away if this is a good idea or a colossal mistake.”

  He smiled, a full-out, genuine smile this time. “Thanks, Josie. I owe you one.”

  “You owe me several, cowboy.”

  “Understood.” He pulled his hat forward and touched two fingers to the brim. “See you in the morning.”

  After he was gone, she sank back onto her chair with a groan, her whole body shaking. Heaven help her, she was going to spend an hour with Jack in the morning. And she could hardly wait.

  JACK DROVE BACK to the ranch in a hell of a good mood. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this happy. Then again, maybe he could. Ten months ago he and Josie had rolled around in her bed until the wee hours, making love, having pillow fights, eating chips and salsa naked, and making love again.

  They’d had fun other nights, too, but he particularly remembered that one. Or maybe it was so clear because of the horror of the next day. Memories of Josie were still tied up with his dad’s death and he wondered if that would ever change.

  Remorse continued to stab him whenever he thought about blowing off his dad’s request in order to stay in bed with her. That angry phone conversation had been the last time he’d spoken with his father. When Jonathan died, he was bitterly disappointed in his oldest son. Jack expected to live with that guilt for a long, long time.

  He also needed to do something about that filly. She hadn’t been ridden since the accident. Although she’d escaped with only a few scratches, nobody had been able to bring themselves to ride her. Consequently she’d spent the past ten months either in her stall or out in the pasture.

  That was a shame. She was a pretty brown and white Paint with good confirmation and the unfortunate name of Bertha Mae. It couldn’t be shortened to initials, either. He thought of how something like that would make Josie laugh and smiled to himself.

  He used to like making her laugh, because she put her whole body into it. He’d especially loved the sensation of Josie laughing when his cock was buried deep inside her.

  As he considered the likelihood of having that experience again, his smile faded. No matter how desperately he still wanted Josie, he absolutely was not going to use these riding lessons as a way to get back in her bed. He was responsible for her thinking all he cared about was sex, but it bothered him. A lot.

  They’d enjoyed sex, but it hadn’t been the sole reason for getting together, despite what he’d told her. Josie meant more to him than that, and somehow he thought she should know.

  Arrogant though it might seem, he’d unconsciously figured on hooking up with Josie again someday, when he was ready. And he’d thought she w
ould take him back if he apologized for his behavior. Yeah, that was extremely arrogant. Knowing that she might never take him back had brought him down a considerable number of pegs.

  Jack pulled into the outbuilding designated as the truck barn. The morning was pretty well shot, giving him a scant thirty minutes or so to work. Lunch was a big deal at the Last Chance, and Jack generally tried to be there.

  Fifty years ago, his grandpa Archie had established a tradition that the hands ate lunch with the family. The other two meals were served to them in the bunkhouse, but everybody came up to the main house for lunch. Eventually the family dining room had become pretty crowded, so when Jonathan added the left wing to the house, Sarah had insisted on a space specifically for big gatherings.

  With four round tables that sat eight, the room accommodated all the hands, and was also useful whenever potential buyers came to look over the ranch’s registered Paints. Lunch had always been a high point of Jack’s day until he’d started dating Josie. Then it had become an opportunity for his dad to comment on his neglected duties.

  But today Jack looked forward to the meal, both for the chili Mary Lou had made this morning, and the success he’d be able to report to Gabe and Sarah. First, though, he would pay Bertha Mae a visit. Maybe this afternoon he’d carve out time to work with her.

  Pocketing his truck keys, he walked down to the barn. Nick’s dogs, Butch and Sundance, were sprawled on each side of the barn door, so Nick must be inside doing his veterinarian thing. His brother had found the dogs wandering along the road a couple of years ago, both looking scraggly. Now Butch’s tan and white coat shone and Sundance’s long black hair was free of burrs.

  Jack gave each dog a scratch behind the ears before walking into the cool interior of the barn. “Nick, you in here?”

  Nick’s voice came from a nearby stall. “Yeah. Doing a routine checkup on Calamity Sam.”

  Postponing his visit to Bertha Mae, Jack made a side trip to the stall Calamity Sam shared with his mother, Calamity Jane. Both mother and two-month-old foal were gray and white Paints. “How’s he doing?”