To Tame a Cowgirl

“Finally.”

Exasperated, Sara Sampson jammed her battered pick-up truck into park and wrenched the door. The rust caught and she grimaced, shoving harder until it popped open. She kicked it closed with her boot and headed towards the neon sign that flashed ‘LoneStar Bar and Grill’. Swinging the big oak doors open, the throbbing beat of the country rock band, mingled with the sounds of laughter, coursed through her body. She made a direct route towards the bar without stopping to chat with anyone who nodded hello to her. She’d already wasted two hours of her Saturday night and she didn’t intend to lose another minute on small talk.

Bill Rhodes, owner and bartender of the LoneStar and a long time friend, smiled as she drew closer. She put her finger to her lips and shook her head before he could greet her. With his back to the room, Sara had the complete advantage over the man seated on the barstool in front of her. He was busy shelling peanuts and popping them in his mouth, his attention focused on the football game. The next peanut he tossed up, she snatched out of the air.

Buck spun around so fast he almost came off the stool. There wasn’t a man in Texas who wouldn’t have stepped back from the six-foot-five, two hundred and eighty pound cowboy whose green eyes flashed with fury.

Sara simply grinned.

With a grunt, he settled back in his seat, but a smile lifted the edges of his mouth when she slipped onto the stool next to him. She picked up the beer Bill had poured for her, drained half in one swallow and then set it down with a satisfied thunk.

“Where’s your shadow?” Buck’s glance went beyond her shoulder to the doorway.

Sara took off her Stetson and set it on the empty stool next to her. She shook out her hair, brushing the long loose strands out of her face. “Doc’s sick. Cole decided to stay with him.”

Buck nodded. “I heard that. What’s he got?” He peeled another peanut and set the shells neatly in a pile in front of him.

Sara shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t ask.” She grabbed a handful of peanuts, shelled them, and popped several in her mouth.

He lifted one eyebrow and shook his head. “You’re compassionate to the core aren’t you?”

As the peanut shells fell to the front of her white T-shirt, she absently brushed them away and took another swig of her beer. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She tossed a peanut up, but Buck snapped it out of the air before she could eat it. “Hey!” She punched him in the arm.

“Didn’t you think that maybe you should offer to stay home with your boyfriend when his father’s sick? Watch a little TV or something?”

Sara twisted her mouth. “Cole’s not my boyfriend.” She paused her beer at her lips and added, “Besides, why should I waste my Saturday night? Doc’s not my father.”

Buck snorted and swung his gaze back to the game. “As I said, compassionate to the core.”

“Hey, I’m compassionate.” She brushed the shells from her shirt again and pushed the bowl of peanuts away. “What about last month, when you drank all that tequila and I held your head up from the toilet, then helped you to bed. That’s compassion, my friend.”

Buck turned to stare, amusement lighting his eyes. “That’s a beautiful story.”

Sara grinned. “I know. I told you, I’m downright warm and fuzzy.”

He leaned closer. “Except it’s not true. I held your head while you puked your guts out. Then I carried your dead weight body to your room, removed your boots and put you to bed.”

She tipped her head. His green eyes filled with amusement and she struggled to keep a straight face. “Hmm, are you sure about that?”

“Oh, I’m sure.” He dropped his gaze pointedly to her jeans. “In fact, I’m wondering right now if you’re wearing those cute little panties with the cowboy hats on them.”

Heat rushed to her face. He was never going to let that go, was he? Pretending she didn’t care that he caught her in the goofy underwear, she shrugged. “You like them so much, I could get you some for Christmas.”

Buck snorted and, once again, stared at the TV. “No thanks.”

Sara drained her beer and rolled her shoulders to work out the kinks. The noise from the bar, sitting here next to Buck, all of it was relaxing and she finally felt herself unwind. This was what she waited all week for—Saturday night at the LoneStar with Buck. No way would she have sat home with Cole watching TV when she could be here instead. Although she worked side by side all week long with Buck, this was different. This was where they kicked back and hung out. It wasn’t just the LoneStar though, it was being with the man next to her. Her buddy. The Tonto to her Kimosabe. There’d never been a time when it hadn’t been the two of them; her father used to call them “double trouble.”

As always, the minute she thought of her father a lump clogged her throat.

Pushing her sadness away, she reached over and messed up Buck’s neat little pile of peanut shells. “I promise next time you get sick, I’ll take your pants off for you. That’s what friends are for.”

Buck choked on his beer, spewing liquid down the front of his black T-shirt. He scowled. “Damn it, Sara, you can’t say—”

The band hit the first note to her latest favorite song and she jumped off the bar stool. “Come on, dance with me.” She wrapped her hand around his thick bicep and tugged.

“Nah.”

She ignored him and headed to the dance floor. He’d follow her anyway, she wasn’t worried. Seconds later, as if on cue, she smiled when he reached her side and she easily turned into his arms without waiting for an invitation.”

“Don’t you ever listen?” he growled.

“To what?” She rested her hands on his solid shoulders as his settled at her hips. Smooth as water flowing downhill, they slipped into a two-step. The music flowed through her and she hummed along.

The familiar pressure of his muscular thighs brushed against her own as they slid across the hardwood. Dancing with Buck was like breathing, completely natural, requiring no thought or effort on her part. Not like with Cole, who always held her too close or missed a step. Buck never missed a step. He was her rock on the dance floor—and in life. She could count on him no matter what.

The dance floor quickly filled and they were forced closer together. Suddenly, Buck jerked his body away, putting more space between them. The muscles under her hands tensed and she frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“You assume I’m going to dance when you want to dance like I’m a freakin’ pet monkey or something. Maybe I wasn’t in the mood.”

Sara lifted one eyebrow at his tone. Was he kidding? Was he really annoyed? He didn’t usually mind dancing. Or was it that he didn’t want to dance with her? Maybe there was someone else he was going to dance with? Was that it? It never mattered in the past, but maybe something had changed. He’d teased her about Cole being her boyfriend even when he knew there was nothing between them. Not that it mattered, even if Cole was here, she always danced with Buck.

Watching him speculatively, she tried to remember the last time he’d been out on a date? It’d been a while. Was that what was eating at him? Was he lonely? Not that he didn’t have her, but maybe he was lonely for the other kind of female companionship.

Her gut ached whenever she thought Buck had found someone. He’d dated in the past, of course, but no one serious. Lately, though, he’d been talking more about how they were both getting older, and maybe the time had come to start settling down. Frankly, she thought the idea of settling down was a bit weird for her, in fact she hated the idea. She couldn’t imagine, for example, sitting home with Cole tonight instead of being here having a good time. Did Buck really want that instead?

She glanced up. Another woman certainly wouldn’t understand about their friendship. She hated the idea of another girl telling him he couldn’t spend time with her. Still, she was his friend, and, as such, her responsibility to help a buddy out. Resigned, she attempted to look past his shoulders to the rest of the crowd. There had to be someone out there that Buck might be interested in.

“What are you doing?” he muttered, shifting his feet.

“Checking out the scenery.”

Using his shoulder for leverage, she lifted to her tiptoes to see past him. She pressed into him and he groaned, his hands on her hips shifting. A hardness settled against her and she frowned. What did he have in his pocket? Oh...oh! Realization finally dawned—this was way worse than she suspected. If dancing with her was turning him on, he really was in need of some female companionship and quick.

She jerked her head back to gander up at him but he wouldn’t meet her gaze. Still shocked by the fact that he was like that, she missed her footing and stumbled against him.

Not missing a step, Buck caught her and lifted her off her feet until she was steady.

“Would you quit it?” His teeth were clenched tight as if in pain. “What were you looking for anyway?”

“Someone to relieve that problem you have.” She spied a petite blonde to their left. “Ah yes, Sue Anne Richardson. Now, she’d be an easy catch—that girl has been after you since the fifth grade.”

Buck swore bluntly and she laughed. She knew Sue Anne drove him crazy. Just then, the blonde’s high pitched giggle drifted across the room. “Don’t you want to wake up to that sound tomorrow morning?” she teased.

“No way.”

“Hmm. Okay, well, there’s always the Quaker Twins?” She wiggled her eyebrows. “I hear they go together if you know what I mean.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “No thanks.”

Sara tipped her head and studied him. “Why? I heard that’s every man’s fantasy, two women at once.”

“Not this man,” he said with conviction.

His hands spanned her ribcage, pulling her closer. Bodies pressed together, she could feel the tension in him. What’s wrong with him tonight? How much had he to drink before she arrived? “You wouldn’t want two willing women? It’s not like they’re butt ugly. And they don’t have that horrible giggle like SueAnne. I also heard that they—”

“I’m a one woman man,” he interrupted, gritting his teeth.

The look in his eyes was very strange. She dropped her gaze as her stomach fluttered and dipped. Weird. She really shouldn’t eat peanuts and drink beer on an empty stomach; it was doing a number on her insides. She shook off the odd sensation. “It wouldn’t matter who I picked out for you anyway, you’re too damned fussy.”

“I’m fussy? You should talk.” He gave her a pointed glare. “You’ve been stringing Cole along for years. Why don’t you either give him what he wants or let him go find someone who will?”

She snapped her head back. “I’m not holding a gun to his head. He’s free to do whatever he wants with whoever he wants.” She stared at his set jawline, which was in need of a shave, tanned skin drawn tight as if annoyed. But what had him so worked up? What was with him and the whole Cole thing today? That had to be the fourth time he’d brought the subject up since breakfast this morning.

“You go out with him every Saturday night. You dance with him, you let him buy you beers...and I’m betting dollars to doughnuts, you leave him with nothing but a prayer when he drops you off at the door.”

“For the record, I buy beer too. He knows where we stand.” Why was Buck trying to make her feel like she was doing something wrong?

“You should either take it to the next level or let him go.”

“Take it to the next level? You mean sleep with him?” She barked a laugh. “That would be like sleeping with you.”

Buck missed his step and landed on her booted toe. Uh-oh, she’d been right about him having too many beers. What time had he gotten here? It was only a little past nine now. She searched his eyes but they appeared clear and alert—angry even.

“Is that such a horrible thought?” His voice was tight as if he was gagging.

She wrinkled her nose. “Is what a horrible thought? Sleeping with Cole? Maybe not horrible, but weird. He’s my friend. Mixing sex and friendship is like drinking whiskey with beer chasers. Seems like a good idea at the time, but the next morning you wonder what the hell you were thinking.”

“Says who?”

She couldn’t believe this conversation. How the heck had they gone from eating peanuts and watching the game to discussing sleeping with Cole? She didn’t have a lot of experience with the opposite sex in a well, sexual way, but knew a bad idea when she heard one. “Me. Once you sleep with someone it changes everything.”

The song changed and they melded into a slower dance.

His hands sprawled out on her back. “I would think having sex with someone who’s also your friend makes it more meaningful.”

Sara shifted and linked her arms behind his neck. Was he talking from experience? Which one of his friends was he sleeping with? Nah, she didn’t want to know. “You do what you want but I’m not mucking up a good friendship for a roll in the hay. What’s with the big concern about me and Cole lately anyway?”

His fingers kneaded the muscles in the small of her back then his hand splayed out and caressed her shoulders, up to the base of her skull. She couldn’t stop the moan of delight as her head fell forward to his chest. Buck had the most amazing fingers, and he magically eased the ache in her muscles. She usually had to beg him to rub her back. She wrapped her arms tighter around him, closed her eyes and reveled in the massage.

“I’m not concerned. I’m just being compassionate.” He emphasized the word as his hand kneaded the nape of her neck. “I hate to see the guy suffer. If you aren’t willing to warm his bed then let him go find someone who will.”

For a few more minutes, she kept her eyes closed and enjoyed the soft music, and the feel of his fingers on her knotted muscles. What were they talking about again? Oh yeah, Cole. He thought she should sleep with Cole. Why would he want that? Why would it matter to him if she did or didn’t? Suddenly light dawned on her and she snapped her head back. “I know what all this is about.”

His hands dropped back to her waist as she eyed him speculatively. “All what’s about?”

He looked like a deer in her headlights. For half a second she wondered what he was so afraid of, but pushed the thought away to let him know she understood. “All this concern about Cole and sex and friendship. I know what you’re doing.”

He lifted his eyebrows. “You do?”

“Yep. You’re trying to get off the subject of you.”

“How do you figure?”

“By talking about my sex life or lack of, it completely turns the attention off the fact that you can’t get laid.”

At that exact moment, the song ended leaving the entire bar to hear her comment loud and clear.

Sara bit her bottom lip as the crowd whistled and cheered. Above her, Buck’s face turned so red it was almost purple. He dropped his hands and stepped away as she covered her mouth with her hand to keep the laughter from bubbling out.

From the stage, Teddy Weston, Buck’s younger brother laughed into his microphone. “Well folks, on that fine note, I think the band and I will take a short break.”

Buck glared at her once more before storming away. He grabbed his denim jacket off the back of the barstool and headed to the exit. The door flung open so hard it slammed into the wall and Sara cringed along with the others in the bar.

Only Satan, her father’s bull, had a worse temper than Buck. She wasn’t a fool and wasn’t about to follow him outside and endure his wrath.

****

With the truck window wide open, Buck pulled out of the honky tonk’s gravel parking lot. He let the cool night air wash over him in an attempt to clear his head. Of all the stupid conversations he’d ever had with Sara, this had to be the wackiest one yet. There she was, looking around the bar trying to find him a woman, never clueing in that the only one he wanted was already in his arms. His hands gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles ached. Did she really think he was getting hard because he was desperate? The only reason he didn’t want to dance with her was because of his growing desire...for her. It was becoming tougher and tougher to keep hidden.

As the main road narrowed, he slowed down and rounded the curve leading to the main gate of the family ranch. The white arch of the Double B glowed in the dark like a welcome beacon.

He absently punched in the code to make it swing open, all his thoughts focused on the conversation they’d just had. Muck up a friendship with sex? Whiskey and beer? Where did she come up with this stuff? He’d lost track of the number of times she’d chased her whiskey down with beer and they’d both paid for it later. He frowned. How did she know that sleeping with a friend gave you the same type of hangover? He knew damn well she wasn’t sleeping with anyone...was she?

It wasn’t Cole, that he knew for sure. But if it wasn’t him, who could it be? He shook his head again, what was he thinking? There wasn’t anyone. Sara was just talking, shooting off her mouth like she knew it all, just like always. He could just picture her right now, sitting on his bar stool, laughing with his brother about what a hot head he was. They were probably discussing his ‘problem’ and how he needed to find himself someone to solve it. Hah! The only problem he had was five-foot-ten woman with waist-length brown hair and sparkling green eyes. What would she think if I told her that!

He passed some outbuildings and swerved to avoid a pothole in the road, making a mental note to get someone out there to fix that in the morning.

Buck shook his head. She was so stubborn and naive. That was her real problem. She was so naïve she had no clue how he felt about her or that he’d even be thinking about her as more than his buddy. Of course, if he had any guts, he’d just come out and tell her. He rubbed his jaw. Chicken. That’s what she’d call him if she knew how he was wrestling with this. But there was a lot at stake. She wasn’t some girl he met on a Friday night that if it didn’t work out they went their separate ways by Sunday. Sara was his best friend—not to mention business partners in a roundabout way. Their fathers were partners in the Double B since before they were born. When his own father passed away, Sara’s old man had run the place himself until Buck and his brothers were old enough to step up and take their places next to him at the head of one of the largest cattle operations in the country.

The death of Beau Sampson a few months ago had rocked the families hard, and Sara in particular. She didn’t seem to be getting past his death. She acted like nothing had changed, that their roles were the same as when Beau called the shots.

But, like it or not they weren’t.

Overnight, they all had to grow up and take charge. The years of convoying were over. The Double B’s future rested squarely with them. His oldest brother, Cord, was already concerned about heirs! Buck wasn’t quite as worried about the next generation, but it did give him something to think about. How long was he going to pretend to be looking for someone to date, have a relationship and maybe settle down with. The only one he wanted was already here—his biggest problem was figuring out how to tame the cowgirl without losing his best friend.

Lately, being around her was getting harder and harder. Her casual touches, dancing with her, it was making him nuts. And, for once, she was so oblivious to what was on his mind.

He drummed his fingers on the open window as he drove the familiar route. It never used to bother him that she went out with Cole. Hell, she’d been going out with their neighbor on and off since high school. He also knew the rancher had never gotten beyond a kiss or two. Sara had told him; she told him everything. That was how it was between them, no secrets—until now.

Now the secret he kept was one he had no clue how to share with her. How did he tell his buddy he wanted to mix his whiskey with his beer and see what happened next? Especially when she’d come right out and told him tonight that she’d regret it. Not that she knew she was warning him off, but it sure made him step back a ways. He was crazy for thinking she’d ever think of him like that. He was her pal and that’s all she wanted. Sara wasn’t looking for a lover.

Pulling into the horseshoe driveway that led to the two main houses, he spied lights on in the bunkhouses. Good. Poker was exactly what he needed tonight. Some beers and a few cigars and he’d forget all about dealing with his ‘problem’. With Sara still at the LoneStar, he could hang out with the ranch hands and not be distracted by her.

His stomach rumbled. If luck was with him, they might even have a piece of pizza left.

****

Sara dug into her front pocket for her keys. Shooting pool and darts for the past few hours had been okay, but the night had lost its fun without Buck. He left so mad and she felt guilty for embarrassing him. She smirked as she struggled to yank her truck door open. It was pretty funny that the Scoundrels stopped playing right then. She and Teddy laughed about it during his break, but Buck’s brother didn’t have any idea what was eating at him any more than Sara did. They both agreed though, that some female companionship wouldn’t hurt. Trouble was, out here in Sweet Meadow, it wasn’t like there were a lot of single women sitting around—especially not the type that could handle Buck. It wasn’t that he’d ever be mean to a woman, but he was like a big old grizzly bear. He had little to no patience with giggly females who batted their eyes and painted their nails. She’d watched the poor things over the years as they tried to catch his attention, but he was completely oblivious to feminine wiles.

A half hour later, she pulled her truck behind her house. Across the yard, only the moon outlined the Weston house where Buck and his three brothers lived. She thought she could see Buck’s truck in its usual spot, but she wasn’t positive. The rest of the house was pitch dark. Teddy was still at the LoneStar and would be until well after closing while Cord was most likely in the main office, which was located in the house she grew up in. A quick glance over her shoulder at the dim light behind the den curtains assured her she was right. Sometimes she and Buck wondered what on earth he could find to work on so late into the night.

Thinking of Buck made her wonder again if he’d come home and gone to bed, or was he somewhere else? She frowned. And where was Tyler? As the youngest Weston brother, he was the quietest of the pack, but was usually at the LoneStar for a couple of beers on a Saturday night. She hadn’t seen him there in over a week. Maybe he was asleep too.

With a shrug, she headed up the back porch of her own house, pulled the screen door open and stepped into the small mudroom. She didn’t bother to take her boots off; her longtime housekeeper Flo would have gone home hours ago and wouldn’t be there to fuss at her. Sara hated being here alone, but would never admit it bothered her. The house felt like it had for months now, empty. Even though Cord was in the den, it wasn’t the same as when her father was alive.

She glanced around the kitchen, knowing Flo would have left a snack somewhere. Ever since Sara’s mother had died, their housekeeper and cherished friend had completely taken over the running of both the main house and the Weston’s. This included leaving them each a bedtime snack—just because she was twenty-five, and her sisters didn’t even live at home anymore, Flo hadn’t stopped. A comforting ritual, Sara pulled the plate out of the cupboard and eagerly sliced a thick slab of the vanilla cake. The raspberry jelly-filled layers made her mouth water. There was simply nothing like homemade triple layer cake.

Sara stood at the counter and shoveled the confection into her mouth as she gazed out the picture window directly behind the large wooden table. Her eyebrow shot up at the sight of a light burning in the main bunkhouse. Poker. Cool. It wasn’t even midnight yet, plenty of time to get in a few hands. She pulled the carton of milk out of the refrigerator, took a long swallow then set it back inside before heading out the door. It only took a few minutes to make her way across the yard towards the white building. She pushed open the door and was immediately assailed with the smell of beer and cigars. The conversation stopped.

Tossing her hat onto a hook on the wall, she grinned. “Deal me in boys.”

Hell!

Buck’s gaze lifted from his cards. Why couldn’t she just go to bed? He loved her to pieces, but sometimes she never knew when to back off.

Through the smoky haze, he watched Sara stroll through the main room of the bunkhouse to where he and several of the cowboys sat around the large, scarred, wooden table.

Slim stood and pulled another chair over to the table for her, then handed her a beer. “Hey, boss lady. Ready to lose some cash?”

Joe, Smitty, Cody, and Red all shifted around to make room for one more.

Buck didn’t say anything while she settled herself next to him, of course, just to further his torment. He knew she looked over, but he pretended to study his cards, holding them close. He had a beautiful hand, a full house, queens over aces and he was ready to win his third pot in a row.

“Whatcha got?” Red asked around his thick cigar.

Buck grinned and laid his cards on the table. “Read ‘em and weep, boys. Three lovely ladies and a pair of aces.”

Red nodded slowly. “That’s damn fine there, boss, damn fine. Unfortunately”—he smiled evilly and laid his cards out in front of him—“not quite as fine as my four twos.”

Everyone laughed. Buck stuck his cigar back in his mouth and glared at Sara, knowing exactly who’d chased Lady Luck away.

The deal passed to her and she set down her beer to pick up the cards. Shuffling them quickly, she grinned a cocky smile and winked. “Blind and Straddle.”

“Don’t you know any other games?” Slim complained, fingering his small pile of coins.

“I know lots of other games, but this is my favorite.” Sara sent the cards sailing around to each of the men.

Buck opened another beer without commenting. He hated this game; he should never have taught it to her.

Red looked at his cards. “What’s the bet?”

Sara tipped her head as if to think about it. Buck rolled his eyes impatiently as they waited.

“Let’s not be too greedy, let’s start low. How about fifty cents?” She tossed two coins into the center of the table.

“Fifty cents?” Buck snarled. “You can’t start at fifty cents. It’s at least two bucks or don’t bother.”

Sara frowned, but tossed a bunch of quarters on top of the other two. “Okay, okay. Two bucks. But the straddle isn’t going any higher than five.”

Buck grunted. He wasn’t stupid, he knew what she was up to. She always called this game to build the pot fast because she never brought much money. She probably didn’t even have ten bucks on her. He tried to read her face. Her gaze darted around the table at each of the men and he silently chuckled. She was so predictable, always gave herself away either by glancing at everyone else, by drinking her beer or shifting her hat. He’d tried and tried to teach her about hiding her reactions, but she’d never mastered the art of the poker face.

The game played out and Sara lost.

“That should teach you not to play those fancy games. Keep it simple,” Buck growled.

Sara stuck her tongue out. “I see your mood hasn’t improved any in the past few hours.”

Buck took a long swig of his beer. Her tongue was as sassy as ever.

Across the table, Smitty, one of the quieter cowboys in the group, sifted the cards through his hands. “How about a little blackjack?”

A few hands later, Sara nudged Buck with her elbow. “I’m running out of money.”

He shrugged. “You’re always out of money.”

She matched his action with a shrug of her own. “Loan me some.”

“I didn’t bring much with me,” he lied, hoping she’d go to bed if she was broke.

“I’m out anyway, boss.” Slim stood up and shoved a small pile of quarters at Sara. “You can have the rest of mine.”

“Thanks, I’ll catch you tomorrow.” She added the money to her tiny pile of nickels and dimes.

“I think I’m going to call it a night too,” Red said and flipped her two more quarters.

Buck grabbed the cards and shuffled them as a plan began to brew in the back of his mind. It would take a lot of luck and all his card skills to pull it off. He glanced at the small pile of coins in front of Sara and his gaze lifted to her face. She grinned around the fat, thick cigar firmly planted between her lips.

His groin jerked in reaction. If she’d just smoke the damn thing like normal folk instead of chewing on it, he wouldn’t mind. But instead, she tormented the hell out of him by rolling the cigar back and forth between her lips.

“You gonna deal those cards or marry ‘em?” she asked around the brown stub.

“Five card draw, two buck ante, fifty cent raise,” he grumbled, tossing his quarters into the middle and dealing.

“You have no imagination,” she complained.

Buck glanced at the cigar tucked between her teeth—if only she knew just how vivid his imagination could be. His jeans tightened and he shifted in his chair. “Then don’t play.”

With a heavy sigh, she tossed in her quarters and picked up the cards. She pulled the cigar out of her mouth and studied her hand.

“This game’s either gonna finish me off or keep me in,” Cody commented picking up his cards.

Buck grabbed up his and looked at them before turning to Joe.

The other man nodded. “I’ll take two.”

Buck obliged and did the same for Cody before addressing Sara. She twirled her cigar around her fingers. He rolled his eyes and snapped. “Do you want cards?”

“Yeah, I’ll take two.” Her head tipped and her mouth twitched. “No, wait. One.”

Buck flipped one card in front of her. She picked it up, but the expression on her face didn’t change.

Absently, Buck leaned back in his chair then slammed it back on the floor. He darted a glance at her and, of course, she was watching him steadily. Damn. She was messing up his concentration. His gaze darted to the others, but they didn’t seem to notice anything remiss.

“Fifty cents.” Joe tossed in his two bucks then another two coins.

“I’ll raise you twenty-five,” added Slim.

“I’ll see that, and raise it fifty,” Sara said.

Buck’s eyebrow rose. If she was raising the bet, she must have something. She could be bluffing. She took a long swallow of her beer and held the neck of the bottle to her lips while she studied her cards. He became so focused on her mouth and the beer bottle that he almost completely missed the clue. She’s got nothing! Sara always toyed with her beer when she had nothing. Ha!

He carefully lifted his own bottle and casually took a drink. “I’ll see that and raise it a buck.” He looked at Sara waiting to see what she’d do.

“I’m out,” Slim said.

“Me too,” echoed Joe.

Sara blinked and set her beer down. She lifted her gaze to meet his. “I’ll meet your bet and raise it twenty five.”

He held her stare, hoping to get her to reveal even more. But she didn’t back down.

He looked away first. It didn’t matter. He had the one thing she didn’t—cash. He nodded. “I’ll meet that and raise it a buck.”

She laid down her cards. “I fold.”

Buck grinned. “That’s a damn shame, seeing as I’ve got nothing.”

He showed his cards and Cody and Joe laughed.

Buck stuck his own cigar in his mouth, and smiled as he leaned back in his chair. “Someday you’re actually going to learn how to play this game, little girl.”

“You just put your money where your mouth is, Beauford. We’re not done yet.”

Buck frowned and narrowed his eyes at her use of his full name. He glanced at the cowboys who smirked but wisely didn’t dare comment.

“I’m done.” Joe picked up his empty beer bottle and headed into the kitchen area.

“Me too. Gotta head over and visit my folks tomorrow so better get some sleep. I’ll talk to you about that fence line on Monday morning, boss.” Cody lifted his hand in a wave, and headed to the bedrooms upstairs.

“I can’t stand it when you play like that,” Sara complained, shuffling the cards.

“Hey if you can’t take the heat, get out of the game, darlin’. You want to play with the big boys you gotta learn to take the pain,” Buck gloated. Her funds were rapidly running out. It was only going to take a few hands, a lot of luck, and his plan would come together quite nicely.

“Black Jack,” she called.

He shrugged. “Lady’s pleasure.” And he’d definitely love to pleasure the lady, he thought with a hopeful heart.

“One dollar ante,” she called and slapped the cards back and forth.

Buck picked up his and couldn’t stop the laugh that burst from him. “Black Jack!” He laid his cards down to show her. Sara’s mouth fell open as she leaned across the table. Her movement drew his attention to her rounded breasts.

“No way!”

He laughed, holding his sides. “It’s not your night, green eyes. You should go home to bed.”

“You’re probably cheating.” She glared at him.

Buck narrowed his eyes. “Them’s fighting words.” It was time to end the game. “Fifty cents raise, five card draw,” he called shuffling the cards again.

Sara sat up straighter, tossed in two quarters and picked up her cards one by one. Buck watched her intently for any kind of sign, but she didn’t move so much as a muscle.

“Three.” She laid down three cards and picked up the three he dealt her.

He put down two and dealt himself two more.

“Fifty cents.” She tossed in two more quarters.

Buck stared at his cards for several minutes, trying to figure out the best way to go. He had a fairly good hand, but was it good enough to win?

“You gonna bid or what?”

Buck forced back a grin. She always got impatient for the bidding when she had something. “One buck,” he called.

She nodded slowly, and leaned back in her chair. “I’ll see your buck and raise it a quarter.”

“I’ll see your bet and raise it another buck.”

Sara nodded in time to the music, her lips pursed as she whistled along with the radio in the corner.

“Are you gonna dance or play cards?” he snapped.

She raised one eyebrow. “Are we in a hurry? Got an itchy trigger finger?”

Buck turned over his wrist. “It’s two-thirty in the morning.”

Sara sat up straighter. “Okay, okay. I’ll see your bet and raise you a quarter.”

Buck sighed, impatient with her small increases. “Let’s just end this here and now. I’m going to see your quarter”—he curled his lip—”and raise you three bucks.”

“I don’t have three bucks.” Sara’s brow furrowed and her lips twisted.

“Hmm, that is a shame, isn’t it?” He stared for a second longer then, as if it pained him, he let his breath out. “I’ll tell you what I’m gonna do.”

Her green eyes flashed with suspicion and her head tipped as if trying to figure out what he was up to. Setting his cards face down, he leaned over the table. “If you win this hand, you can have everything in the pot, and I’ll forgive the rest you owe me.”

Sara frowned. “And if I lose?”

Buck shrugged as if it was no big deal. “Blind bet. If I win, I name the wager.”

She snorted indelicately. “Forget that! Last time, I washed your truck every day for a month. I’m not stupid.”

“Okay, fair enough. If I win, I name the wager but it can’t involve any manual labor.”

She eyed him for several long minutes, glanced at her cards, and stuck her cigar back in her mouth. She rubbed her back against the wooden rails of the chair and her breasts jiggled with her movement.

Buck sat up straighter. The beers he had consumed were making his judgment a little hazy, but he knew he had a good hand. All he had to do was get her to agree to play it out. Then he’d collect his winnings.

She’d go through with it too. A bet was a bet after all. But in order for it to work right, he had to pay attention and stop being mesmerized by what her lips were doing to that cigar.

Sara brushed her long hair back with one hand. “Why are you offering this deal?”

He shrugged and leaned his chair back on two legs. “Let’s say I’m in a charitable mood.”

“Hah! Try again.”

“Okay. Maybe I’m a little drunk. You shouldn’t let an opportunity to take advantage of my weakened state pass you by.”

She tipped her head as if considering his offer.

“I can understand if you’re concerned about losing. I mean, you don’t have the same guts as...” He stood up as if the game was already over.

“Fine, it’s a deal.”

He grinned and sank back to his chair. She’d never backed away from a challenge in her life. He looked down at his hand again even though he knew it by heart.

Was it good enough? He watched her closely, but she didn’t so much as twitch. Her heavy, dark lashes lifted and her eyes met his, but he couldn’t read anything in the green depths.

A small, tiny, glint in her expression gave him reason for doubt.

“Call,” she ordered.

A cold hand squeezed his heart. It was completely up to the fates at this point so he slowly turned his cards face up on the table.

Her face fell and he knew he’d won. She slumped back in her chair. Even though inside he was jumping up and down, he forced a calm demeanor as he asked, “Whatcha got?”

“A low straight,” she muttered, tossing the cards in the middle of the table.

He didn’t dare laugh, she’d probably pound him. He nodded and drained his beer without another word. He slid the cards into the drawer under the table and shoved the coins in his pocket.

“That was a good hand, you almost beat me.” He couldn’t stop the grin that split his face. “But of course, you didn’t.”

She narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. “Name your wager.”

“I will.” He paused. “In time.”

He gathered the numerous beer bottles and ashtrays and moved them to the kitchen counter. When he turned back she studied him with a wary expression.

“Nervous?” he asked.

“Should I be?”

Buck grabbed his hat and shoved it on. “Come on.”

“Aren’t you going to tell me what I have to do?” She stood up and plucked her own hat off the peg on the wall.

He nodded. “Not in here, though.” He jerked his head towards the upstairs where the ranch hands all slept. “This is between you and me.”

He headed to the exit without waiting for her to follow. When he heard her boots behind him, he held the door open for her to go first. She walked past him and he caught a whiff of the lemony shampoo she always used. His gaze hung on the sway of her hips. Her shapely rear end was covered in faded denim and his heart sped up. He fell into step with her and shoved his hands into his front pockets as they crossed the dark yard.

Did he really have the guts to do what he was about to do?

He led her to a secluded area between two of the larger barns. The shadows were deep, but he could just make out her features. He turned to face her completely.

She stopped and slammed her hands on her hips, feet braced as if for battle. “Let’s get this over with so I can go to bed.”

Bed sounded good to him. He leaned back until the building supported him. When he didn’t immediately answer, she narrowed her eyes and stepped closer.

Buck’s chest tightened with anxiety. His heart raced uncontrollably. This was insane. It wasn’t that big of a deal, it shouldn’t be this awkward. They’d kissed each other before, not in any way like this but...well, oh the hell with it. “I want you to kiss me.”

Her brow furrowed as she jerked her head back and screwed up her face. “That’s it? A kiss?”

With a shake of her head as if he’d gone crazy, she closed the space between them and settled her hands on his shoulders. Lifting herself to tiptoe she pressed her mouth to his cheek.

Before she could bounce back to her feet, he snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her off balance. His thigh slipped between hers, and her legs straddled his as she lost her footing.

He met her confused gaze. “I don’t mean one of those kisses like you give Cole.”

Nervousness flickered in her eyes, and, for a second, he almost told her he was kidding. But her body pressed along the length of his felt perfect, exactly how he knew it would. Her soft breasts snuggled into his chest and he wasn’t about to let her go.

“You’re drunk,” she accused, her hands flattening on his chest as if to put some space between them.

He nodded. “A little, but I know what I’m doing if that’s what you’re saying.”

“I think you’ve lost your mind.”

He lifted one brow. “If you’d rather welch on the bet...”

She narrowed her eyes and shifted in an attempt to regain her footing. Buck groaned as their lower bodies connected intimately. He longed to pull her closer and press into her.

“This is the stupidest thing you’ve ever wanted me to do.”

“Maybe. But it doesn’t involve eating anything weird and you don’t have to wash my truck. Just like I promised.” He could read in her eyes she was trying to figure an easy way out. “There’s no getting out of this. I want a kiss that lasts at least fifteen seconds—and full on the mouth.”

“You never even did this to me when we were kids and played truth or dare,” she said, her glance drifting to his mouth.

He should have. It would be a lot easier now if they’d experimented as teenagers. “What difference does that make?”

“You’ll taste like beer and cigars.” She wrinkled her nose.

“So will you.”

His hands splayed on her narrow waist while hers were on his chest, his heart beating beneath her palm. She had to feel how hard it was pounding. That wasn’t all that was pounding and hard either.

The moonlight outlined her features and caught the uncertainty in her eyes. He held her gaze, trying without words to tell her what he needed. It was time for them to explore what was beyond friendship. She trembled, but he wasn’t sure from the cool night air or a reaction to him. She continued to study him, her long hair spread half over his arm and her tongue snaking out to wet her lips.

Heat zipped through him. “I can’t believe kissing me is so bad that it’s taking you this long to do it.”

She shrugged. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.”

Her expression reminded him of all the times Flo made her eat her vegetables.

Undeterred by her reluctance, he nodded, but as she leaned forward he cautioned, “No half-ass kiss or it won’t count and you’ll have to do it again.”

She cupped his face in her hands and moved in closer. “I’ve never had any complaints.”