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  “So I might as well cancel the stripper.” Rafe sighed as if bitterly disappointed.

  “Maybe not.” Olivia shared a glance with Meg. “Did you hire a man or a woman?”

  “He didn’t hire either one,” Wyatt said, “because I told him not to.” He paused. “You didn’t, right?”

  “No, I followed your instructions, but from the way the female contingent is looking at me, maybe we need to rethink this. Ladies, do you want a male stripper at the party Thursday night?”

  Olivia leaned forward. “Could we have a guy wearing tight jeans and chaps?”

  “And shirtless, but with a leather vest,” Meg added. “And spurs on his boots. I want him to jingle when he walks.”

  “Yes!” Olivia and Meg exchanged high fives across the table.

  “Ooo, and leather gloves with fringe, right, Livy?”

  “You have such good taste, Meg. You can create my fantasy cowboy any day.”

  Wyatt groaned. “Pay no attention to them, Rafe. They have a warped idea of what looks good on a man.”

  “It’s what looks good coming off a man that’s important,” Meg said.

  “Keep talking.” Rafe pulled a napkin out of the dispenser. “If someone can loan me a pen, I’ll make some notes so I get this right.”

  Meg turned to him. “For Thursday night?”

  He winked at her. “That, too.”

  8

  ALL THE KIDDING AROUND at lunch helped Meg relax and forget about the incident on the road into town, but once she and Rafe were headed for Jackson on another two-lane road, she tensed up again. Not good. This week would involve lots of time riding in cars and trucks.

  “A leather vest with no shirt, huh?” Rafe glanced over at her. “That’s what it takes?”

  “It’s a start.” She tried her best to sound upbeat and teasing. Maybe Rafe wouldn’t notice that she wasn’t quite into it.

  “I don’t know about the chaps, though. That might be overkill.”

  “Possibly so.” She’d conquer this case of nerves. She had to.

  His response was a couple of beats late, and he’d switched topics on her. “I’m really curious about this list of yours. Can you tell me more about what you’ve already done?”

  That brief hesitation and change in topic told her he’d guessed that she was nervous about being back on the road. Instead of asking her about it, he’d decided to subtly remind her of moments she’d been strong and brave. That kind of empathy didn’t come along every day.

  “I tried hang gliding last year when I was in San Diego for a traffic control conference.”

  “Did you like it?”

  “You bet. My job takes up too much time, so I haven’t gone back to it. If I change jobs and move here, I’m looking for a less time-consuming position so I can build in breaks for things like that.”

  “You might have to take a pay cut.”

  “That’s okay. I don’t need a lot of money.” She watched with some apprehension as they came up behind a slow-moving semi. No doubt Rafe would want to get around the truck. Well, she’d just take a deep breath and keep calm.

  “I’ve always wanted to try hang gliding. There’s this guy named Hutchinson out of San Francisco who makes amazing videos of sports like that. Have you seen any of them?”

  “I have, as a matter of fact. Did you know he was born in Shoshone and his dad runs the feed store there?”

  “Huh. Small world.”

  “He’s good friends with Jack Chance, and I’m pretty sure he’ll be at the wedding. If so, you can meet him.”

  “I’d like that.” He made no move to pass the truck. “So what else have you done?”

  “Rafe, you don’t have to poke along behind this truck. I’ll be fine if you want to pass.”

  “We’re in no rush.”

  “No, but we’re doing ten miles under the speed limit. The truck’s put on his left-turn signal twice to let you know you can go around.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yep.”

  He let out a breath. “Thank God.” Easing out to check traffic, he tromped on the gas and the powerful car zoomed around the eighteen-wheeler and back over to the right side of the road. “I could tell you were still a little freaked out, so I didn’t want to make it worse.”

  “I know, and I appreciate that.” She gazed at him. Besides being the hunkiest chauffeur she’d ever had, he also looked relaxed and confident behind the wheel. The last of her tension drained away. “But I’m fine now.”

  “I believe you.” He gave her a smile before returning his attention to the road. “I can hear it in your voice.”

  “You were smart to get me talking about my list.”

  He shrugged. “I just hated to think of you white-knuckling it all the way to Jackson. It’s not your style.”

  Warmth flooded through her. “That might be the nicest thing you’ve said to me. It’s not my style, which is why I hated falling apart like that. But you’ve been great about it. No wonder clients trust you with all their money.”

  “And that might be the nicest thing you’ve said to me.”

  “I’m worried about you, though, Rafe.”

  His eyebrows lifted. “Me? Why?”

  “I have a bad feeling you’re all work and no play.”

  “No, I’m not. I go out to dinner. I catch a movie now and then.”

  “That’s all fine, but I mean something exciting to get your blood pumping.”

  His smile was incredibly sexy. “I didn’t think it was appropriate to mention that kind of excitement, considering the plans you and I have tonight.”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake. I didn’t mean sex. I meant like taking a sailboat out on San Francisco Bay.”

  “I’ve done that.”

  “When?”

  “Um, maybe ten years ago. My friend who had a boat sold it.” He passed another slow-moving truck. “Would you like to go sailing on the bay?”

  “Is that an invitation?”

  “Absolutely. If you ever come to San Francisco, I’ll take you sailing. Give me some advance warning, and I’ll brush up my skills. You’d love it.”

  And so would he, she thought. The next part wasn’t easy to say, but she made herself say it. “You don’t have to wait for me to come to San Francisco. I’ll bet there are plenty of women who would be thrilled if you took them sailing.”

  “I’d rather wait for you.”

  “Why on earth would you wait? It might be a year or two before I show up. And I can tell you want to do it.”

  “With you, yeah, but not with some random woman who might or might not get a kick out of going. I have no doubt that you would eat it up with a spoon, and we’d have a great time.”

  He was so cautious and guarded. She didn’t know all the reasons why, but she could guess from things Olivia had said. Rafe and Wyatt’s self-absorbed mother hadn’t given them much attention and their workaholic father hadn’t, either. Rafe seemed to have modeled himself after his dad, maybe hoping for approval from at least one parent.

  She decided not to push the issue anymore. Obviously work and a familiar routine had been his shield for many years. If it lacked exhilarating highs, at least it didn’t have devastating lows, either.

  But she wouldn’t give up on him. Their successful horseback ride told her that he still had the capacity to cut loose, and his kiss told her that a passionate man lurked under his careful exterior. Tonight she’d find out
exactly how passionate he could be, and she could hardly wait.

  * * *

  RAFE TURNED THE CONVERSATION back to Meg’s list, and she allowed him to do that. He found out about her hike through the Alps, and her future plan to walk the Great Wall someday soon. Her list ranged from spending an entire day at the Louvre in Paris to bungee jumping in Queenstown, New Zealand.

  He was relieved that she’d seemed to give up on her campaign to inject some excitement into his San Francisco life. She might have a demanding job with the City of Pittsburgh, but he doubted she could imagine the pressures he faced every day, knowing the financial effect his recommendations could have on his wealthy clients. Planning a sailing date with someone he didn’t know well would only add to his stress.

  Still, as he listened to her describe the things she’d done and those she planned to do, he got caught up in her excitement. He wouldn’t mind tagging along on some of those trips. Finding the time would be a challenge, but her enthusiasm was infectious.

  He decided not to mention his interest, though. Such plans were more of a pipe dream than a reality for him. If she thought he wanted to go, she might start counting on it, and he couldn’t promise that.

  They finally arrived in Jackson, a town crowded with cars bearing out-of-state plates. He had to circle the square twice before a parking spot opened up. But when it did, he pulled in right in front of the store he was headed for. Wyatt had told him which one would carry clothes suited to the wedding plus anything else he decided to buy for his own use.

  Although he’d balked at taking Meg with him at first, now he was glad she’d suggested coming along. What would have been a boring trip to buy clothes he didn’t actually want could turn into a great afternoon. Meg had a gift for making everything seem special.

  She waited for him to help her out of the car, but once she was out, she was in bouncy tour-guide mode. “In that far corner of the square is the vintage clothing shop where Olivia and I found our dresses for the wedding. Next to it is Silver Reflections, the jewelry shop where I bought the earrings I wore last night.”

  “I liked those. I wonder if you need another pair.” The idea of buying her jewelry was much more appealing than shopping for his clothes.

  “Not really. I don’t dress up that much.” She pointed across the square. “Over there in the middle of the block is the gallery that carries Dominique’s photography. If we have time after buying your stuff, we should go over.”

  “She’s Nick’s wife, right?” He hoped by the day of the wedding he’d have all the vitals of this family down.

  “Right. It was pictures of Nick in cowboy mode that launched her career in Jackson Hole.” Meg looked him up and down. “Has Dominique seen you in those clothes yet?”

  “If she’s the tall one with short brown hair…”

  “That’s her.”

  “Then, no. In the kitchen this morning I met the redhead and her little girl.”

  “That’s Morgan, Gabe Chance’s wife, and little S.B., aka Sarah Bianca. Anyway, I’ll bet Dominique would love to get some shots of you in full garb. She’s been after Jack to do it, and he won’t, but you look so much like him, she might pounce on you instead.”

  Rafe shook his head. “She’ll have to keep hounding Jack. I feel like enough of a fraud wearing this stuff without having pictures of me on display somewhere.”

  “I doubt Dominique will take that as a valid excuse, but you can try.” She turned back toward the Western clothing store. “Ready to put a dent in your credit card?”

  “I don’t mind that part. But let’s make this as quick as possible. Even if you don’t get dressed up much, I’d like to check out the jewelry shop.”

  She smiled at him. “You don’t have to buy me jewelry, Rafe.”

  “I know. But I’d like to.”

  “So I’ll think of you when I wear it?”

  He blinked at the accuracy of her statement. That was exactly what he wanted, although he hadn’t realized it until she’d said so. He didn’t want to fade out of her memory at the end of the week.

  “I’ll think of you whether you buy me jewelry or not,” she said softly. “So save your money for other things, like a ticket back to Jackson Hole at Christmas.”

  “I can afford both.”

  She gazed at him and finally her green eyes began to twinkle with laughter. “So be it. If you want to throw your money around on jewelry for me, I’d be a fool to turn it down.”

  “I’m glad you’ve seen the light. Maybe we should do that first.”

  “No.” She laced her fingers through his and tugged. “Come on, Rafe. Take your medicine like a man.”

  “All right.” He sighed and walked with her toward the store. “But I want to start with the leather vests.”

  She paused and glanced at him. “Are you serious?”

  “Isn’t that what you said turned you on?”

  “Yes, but I didn’t think you’d actually be willing to buy one.”

  “Hey, now that you’ve confessed one of your fantasies, I might as well work it.”

  She grinned. “I like your attitude. You’ll have to try it on without a shirt so I can tell if it’s the right look. Will you do that?”

  “No. For God’s sake, Meg. I’ll buy the vest, but I’m not parading around in the store wearing a vest and no shirt underneath. I’ll look like an idiot.”

  “Then if you won’t come out of the dressing room wearing the vest, I’ll have to come in.”

  He stared at her. “I don’t think so.”

  “If I did, I could check something else off my list.”

  “What?”

  “Making out with a cute guy in a dressing room.” Her cheeks were pink with excitement. “It’s number fourteen.”

  He recognized a challenge when he heard one. She was daring him to go along with her crazy idea. And the more he thought about it, the more turned on he was. Maybe this shopping trip wouldn’t be so boring, after all.

  Squeezing her hand, he reached for the door. “First we have to find out if they have any vests that you like.”

  “If they don’t, maybe you’d model some chaps without your—”

  “That’s where I draw the line, toots.”

  She laughed as they walked into a store that he instantly recognized as exclusive. Exclusive stores often had full doors on the dressing rooms. He began to anticipate getting Meg alone in one of them.

  Glancing around, he noticed that the place catered to manly men. One wall held nothing but boots and belts, and the scent of oiled leather permeated the store. Jeans and shirts were neatly folded on planks supported by oak barrels. Any vacant wall space had been filled with coiled ropes, spurs and branding irons.

  Rafe counted about six people shopping and at least two sales ladies. One of them, a middle-aged woman wearing a sparkly Western shirt and red jeans beamed as she walked in their direction. “May I help you?”

  “I need something for a wedding at the Last Chance this weekend,” Rafe said. “I’m the best man.”

  “Yes, of course. That would be the Locke-Sedgewick wedding.”

  “That’s right. Meg is going to help me pick out something.”

  “Perfect.” The woman started toward the back of the store. “If you’ll both follow me, I’ll show you the jackets first.”

  “Thanks.” He stroked his thumb over Meg’s palm. “Oh, and by the way, do you happen to carry any leather vests?”

  “We do, but a leather vest
worn under your Western jacket will get quite warm this time of year. If you want the look of a vest, I suggest fabric.”

  Meg spoke up. “The leather vest is for…another time.”

  “Ah.” The woman glanced over her shoulder at Meg. “So you’re also interested in some articles that aren’t specifically wedding-related.”

  Meg nodded. “We are. In fact, if you’ll point me toward the leather vests, you and Rafe can discuss jackets.”

  “They’re on the far left wall hanging below our display of hats.”

  “Be right back.” Meg slipped her hand from his and with a saucy little wink went in search of vests.

  Rafe watched her go. He didn’t hear the saleswoman’s question until she tapped him on the arm. He turned to her and felt heat rising up from his collar. “Sorry. You were saying?”

  “What color jacket are you interested in?”

  “The groom said I should look for something in dove-gray.”

  “Excellent choice. Let’s see what we have in your size.”

  Rafe managed to pay attention long enough to give her his coat size and pretend interest as she handed him three different jackets on sturdy wooden hangers.

  “And you’ll need Western dress slacks to go with that. Those are over here.” The woman started moving toward a different section of the store.

  “Wait a sec. I don’t want to lose Meg.”

  The saleswoman chuckled. “Oh, I’m sure she’ll find you.”

  Of course she would, but he didn’t want her to go hunting all over the store. That would waste time, and he could hardly wait to find a way to slip into one of the dressing rooms and…

  “Waist and inseam?”

  He focused on the saleswoman again and gave her his measurements. Then he scanned the store, looking for that bright mass of curls bobbing around somewhere in the aisles. And there she was, coming toward him with an armful of leather vests and a triumphant grin that made him want to laugh out loud.