CHAPTER 11

Georgie hadn’t been fooled by Vince’s maneuver. I’ll walk you out had sounded like a ploy, and she’d planned to simply push him away if he tried to get too friendly. Sad to say, once his lips touched hers, she folded immediately. Game over.

As she’d noted earlier, he’d had years of kissing practice since they’d last met, while she’d cozied up to a cash register and lists of inventory instead of a hot cowboy. His mouth, the one Janet had been so infatuated with, was every bit as talented as it should be, given all those years he’d had to work on his technique. Awed by the way he took over, Georgie gladly surrendered to his superior knowledge. To borrow his phraseology, it seemed like the right thing to do.

He started slowly, the pressure of his lips light as the feathers he apparently disdained. When she didn’t resist, he applied more pressure, delicious pressure, as it turned out. His mouth covered hers with assurance. He settled in, giving her a taste of what was to come with subtle movements of his lips against hers.

She savored the taste of beer and the salty tang of the fries, and something else, something wild and untamed that promised adventure and excitement. Nothing about his kiss was steady or reassuring. Instead he challenged her to risk letting go of her safe haven for the excitement only he could provide.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she clung to him with a moan of anticipation. She hadn’t been kissed in so long, and never like this, never with a promise of pleasure so great that she’d sacrifice everything to have it.

He took the kiss deeper. A slow slide of his tongue heated her blood to the boiling point. Red alert . . . woman about to spontaneously combust. As his tongue lazily stroked the inside of her mouth, images of soft sheets and sweaty bodies flashed through her mind. She wiggled closer. Judging from the evidence, he was watching the same picture show.

He lifted his mouth a fraction from hers and took a shaky breath. “Come up to my room.”

She was ready to go, eager to go, until the sound of someone clearing his throat shattered the moment. Pushing away from Vince, she whirled around to find they’d been joined by the mayor of Bickford.

“I’m so sorry to interrupt,” Clyde said, “but I needed to ask you something about tomorrow night’s meeting.”

She had no clue what meeting he was talking about.

“The town council,” he added helpfully.

“Oh! Of course! The council meeting. How could I forget?” Easy. Get in a lip-lock with Vince Durant, and she could kiss her brain good-bye.

“Myra usually takes the minutes, but she has to drive down to Lubbock tomorrow. You know her daughter and son-in-law are there with the baby, little Sophie.”

“Yes, right.” She had trouble remembering her own name at the moment, let alone Myra and Steve Jenson’s children and their first and therefore extremely precious grandchild.

“We need somebody to step in for her and take the minutes. Steve says he can’t read his own handwriting and he’s a lousy typist. Ed’s nervous about his grammar and Ida . . . well, she might embellish things too much. I have to preside over the meeting, so that pretty much leaves you, if you don’t mind doing it.”

“I’d be happy to.” Clyde had interrupted the best kiss of her life to ask her to take minutes for the council meeting tomorrow night? Maybe later she’d understand that was reasonable behavior, but right now she wanted to shake him until his dentures rattled.

“Good. Oh, and Vince?”

“Yes, sir?” Vince sounded a little ragged around the edges, and his hand trembled slightly as he put on his hat.

“You’re welcome to come to the meeting, too. Only residents get to comment on the proceedings, but you might find it interesting. Democracy at the grassroots level, as it were. We meet in Sadie’s at seven.”

“Thank you. I’d like to come.”

“I think you’ll find it illuminating. Well, I’m off to lose my shirt at poker. Are you playing tonight, Vince?”

“Absolutely. Be there in a second.”

After Clyde left, Georgie turned to him, her thoughts in a jumble. “What was that all about?”

“Saving your reputation.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“At the very least he caught us kissing. He might have overheard me ask you up to my room. I hope not, but I’m taking no chances. I’ll go back in there and play poker because obviously I can’t be doing that and hauling you upstairs at the same time.”

She nodded because what he said made sense. “Thank you.” Then she remembered the rest of the conversation. “You’re not really coming to the council meeting, are you?”

“Why not?” He smiled at her. “Grassroots democracy. Who could resist?”

“So you’re definitely staying another night.”

“Looks like it.” He seemed pleased about that.

She was not. The longer he stayed, the more irresistible he’d become. She couldn’t rely on timely interruptions to save her from herself, either. “This is crazy.”

Stepping closer, he cupped her cheek. “Speaking of crazy, that was some kiss.”

It had been, and she wanted to kiss him some more. She had plenty of reasons for not doing that, but she couldn’t remember them when his warm, muscular body was inches from hers. Time to dial back her response and get the hell out of there. “I guess so.”

“You guess? Lady, you were moaning.”

“I . . . had a cramp in my toe.” Kissing him had not been smart, not smart at all. But it had been damn hot. She was still vibrating.

He stared at her. “I don’t believe you had a cramp in your toe. I think you were into that kiss. If I hadn’t thought so, I wouldn’t have asked you up to my room.”

“I wouldn’t have gone.” Liar, liar, pants on fire. And were they ever. If Clyde hadn’t interrupted them, she’d be in his hotel room right this minute and happy for the opportunity. She’d do well to remember the potent effect Vince had on her and stay out of kissing range.

“Too bad.” He looked into her eyes. “Let me know if you ever change your mind.”

“I won’t. Good night, Vince. Thanks for the drinks.”

“Anytime.”

She turned away and started walking. She’d bet he was watching her. Having a handsome cowboy gaze after her with longing was a heady experience she hadn’t had in a while, either. She probably enjoyed it more than she should.

So that was that. She’d satisfied her curiosity about kissing Vince Durant, and thanks to Clyde, she hadn’t made the mistake of taking Vince up on his offer. It would have been a mistake, right? A night or two of hot sex wasn’t what she wanted.

Well, okay, she wanted it, but when she wasn’t in the middle of a sizzling kiss, she could assess the situation rationally. She understood why Vince was interested in her. During the time he’d lived here she’d played hard-to-get and his ego had been wounded. His only reason for hanging around now was to prove that he could have her, after all. If he succeeded, he’d check that off his list and move on.

Being an item on his checklist didn’t appeal to her at all. She’d keep that concept in mind the next time he trained those blue eyes on her. He was tempting, especially to a woman who lived in a town filled with senior citizens. But she had her pride, too, and that would keep her out of trouble.

*   *   *

Vince played cards with the seniors and was in bed by eleven. He didn’t sleep all that well for thinking about Georgie and how close he’d been to coaxing her up to his room. He really shouldn’t continue to pursue her, but he couldn’t seem to help himself.

As he tossed and turned on the queen-sized bed, he thought about pheromones. He’d read about them a few years ago. Maybe that was part of the problem with Georgie—she gave them off and he sucked them in.

That made him want to do things like kiss her, which then made him want to do other things, like invite her up to his hotel room. And that was another issue. She’d let him kiss her. If she was so dead-set against him, why had she let him do that? This predicament was partly her fault, then, wasn’t it?

He could solve the situation by getting in his truck and driving away in the morning. He’d pay for the rental of Cinder before he left, of course, but no one was making him hang around town, so why not go? Georgie had accepted his apology, which had been his main reason for staying.

He pictured himself checking out of the hotel first thing in the morning and settling his bill. Maybe he’d have breakfast, because Myra Jenson would have taken the time to fix it for him. Her husband, Steve, had played poker with the guys, and he’d mentioned that breakfast would be served as usual in the morning.

Steve had added that Vince would be on his own after that, because Myra would be down in Lubbock with their daughter and granddaughter. He’d apologized for the inconvenience but had offered what he’d planned to eat, cold cereal and coffee. Vince didn’t have anything against cold cereal and coffee, but maybe it was a sign that it was time to leave town.

All right. He’d do that. Punching the pillow until he had it the way he wanted it, he settled down and closed his eyes. The minute he did, he pictured Georgie taking minutes at the council meeting. He’d miss seeing that. He’d miss observing grassroots democracy, too.

The mayor himself had invited him to attend the council meeting tomorrow night. Georgie hadn’t been happy about that. Despite the extreme heat of her kiss, a kiss that had melted every ounce of good sense he possessed, she still wanted him gone.

But she also plain wanted him, period. He couldn’t remember the last time a woman had kissed him with such yearning. No red-blooded man, especially no red-blooded cowboy, could easily turn his back when a woman responded like that.

So he’d stay another night, just to see what happened. Maybe nothing would. Maybe all he’d get out of the deal was a long ride through the canyon on Cinder tomorrow and an education in grassroots democracy tomorrow night. But he’d be able to watch Georgie take the minutes. That would be a kick.

*   *   *

The following night Vince ate an excellent dinner of chicken-fried steak at Sadie’s and was joined by Steve. A husky guy with a full head of white hair and bifocals, Steve turned out to be a good conversationalist. Vince kept hoping Georgie would show up, but apparently she’d decided to wait until the meeting was ready to start.

Vince asked how Steve and Myra ended up buying the hotel.

“I got an unexpected inheritance.” Steve took a drink of his beer. “I’d managed hotels for years and always wanted to own a small one. The Bickford happened to be for sale fifteen years ago when I was looking around for something exactly like this. Back then it was a little gold mine. Now, not so much.”

“Have you thought of selling it?”

Steve cut into his steak. “Myra and I’ve talked about it, but we love it here. We’ve made some good friends. For a while after the Double J closed down, we were fine. People still came to stay at the hotel because the town hadn’t started going downhill. But it turns out the little shops needed both the guest ranch and the hotel to stay in business. One by one, they closed up, which changed the atmosphere of the place. People stopped booking hotel rooms. Don’t blame ’em.”

“It’s a damn shame, though.”

Steve nodded as he finished chewing and swallowed. “But I honestly don’t know how we can turn it around. The council members, of which I’m one, were asked to bring ideas to the meeting tonight. Inez, Clyde’s wife, told me to suggest the quilt raffle again. We have some champion quilters in Bickford. But that’s not a solution. We need something bigger and more dramatic.”

“Yeah, you do.” Vince thought about his ride through the canyon today. Gorgeous country, perfect for trail rides. He hadn’t seen the Ghost, though. Georgie had been as right about that as she seemed to be about a lot of things. Yesterday had scared the stallion and he’d taken his herd into hiding.

Vince felt responsible for that, but he also knew the trauma would subside and the herd would come back to the pasture and the creek because it was such a perfect place for them. Their memory of yesterday would fade. If no one else upset them, they’d resume their normal pattern of meandering through the canyon.

He couldn’t help thinking of an idea he’d had when he’d worked at the Double J. The ranch owners hadn’t thought anyone would go for it, but Vince still liked the concept. Yet he didn’t really need to get involved in the town’s problems. He was an outsider, and he wanted to keep it that way.

A few minutes before seven, Georgie walked in. He happened to be looking in that direction, but he might have sensed her arrival even if he hadn’t been turned that way. He felt connected to her by an invisible string. She might not have that sensation, but he sure did.

Tonight she wore a dark-green blouse tucked into her jeans and she’d slung a tote bag over her shoulder. She didn’t look at him.

Ike busied himself collecting dinner dishes and taking drink orders.

“Excuse me,” Steve said. “I need to help move tables. Been nice talking to you, Vince.”

“Same here, Steve. Need any help?”

“Nah, I think we’ve got it. We’re used to this routine.”

Vince could see that. Ed arrived about that time and he, Clyde, and Steve put three tables together to create an official place for the council members to sit. Ed was a typical old cowboy and didn’t pretend to be anything different. He came to the meeting in the same worn jeans and faded shirt Vince had seen him wearing this morning.

Vince understood why Steve, Clyde, Georgie, and Ed were on the council. Steve, Georgie, and Ed ran the only surviving businesses in town. Clyde was the mayor.

But Vince couldn’t figure out why an ancient lady named Ida Harrington was part of the group. She’d walked into Sadie’s wearing a sparkly Western shirt and bright red jeans. Her thinning hair was the color of the wine Georgie liked to drink. In fact, Ida ordered a glass of it the minute she stepped inside the door.

The other council members hovered around Ida, making sure she had the seat she wanted at the table, the wine she’d ordered, and some fries. Soon several baskets of fries appeared on the council table, along with glasses and two pitchers of beer. Vince had never been to a town council meeting, but Ida’s wine and the pitchers of beer didn’t seem right.

Apparently they were a normal part of the meeting, though, because Clyde poured a beer for each of the men. Ida finished her first glass of wine and signaled Ike for another, and the meeting hadn’t even started. Georgie was the only teetotaler in the group.

Sadie’s was more crowded than it had been all weekend. The residents turned out for these meetings. Every chair was filled and Ike was doing a brisk business behind the bar. Council meetings might be as lucrative as having three cowboys blow into town. Grassroots democracy was way more entertaining than Vince had expected.

But despite the beer and the relaxed attitude of everyone in the room, the meeting started exactly at seven on the dot. Vince glanced at the neon Budweiser clock behind the bar when Clyde brought the gavel down. Impressive.

Georgie had pulled a little computer out of her tote and began typing as Clyde opened the meeting. She looked capable and efficient. Vince settled in to watch her take minutes because, after all, he’d stayed partly for that purpose.

The beginning of the meeting was pretty boring. It involved approving the minutes from the last meeting, and there was some bickering between Ida and Clyde about wording. Eventually that was settled, and the treasurer’s report followed. Steve was the treasurer, and his evaluation of the finances was met with moans and groans from the crowd.

Vince could understand. The town had no money and wasn’t likely to get any soon. But Ida questioned several of the items in the budget. Steve treated her with great respect as he explained each issue, and she finally settled down.

A pleasant-looking couple had parked themselves at Vince’s table after asking if the seats were taken. Vince leaned toward them. “Who is that woman?”

The guy lowered his voice. “Oldest person in town, at least ninety-five if she’s a day. And loaded. She keeps hinting that she might give the town money, but so far, we haven’t seen a dime.”

“That’s frustrating.”

“Tell me about it. Not that she could solve our problems with a donation. We need more than cash. We need to create a reason for tourists to come here. I suppose she could be waiting for someone to suggest a project she’s willing to underwrite.”

Vince nodded. Sounded fair to him. But no wonder everyone catered to Ida. If they ever came up with a big idea, she’d be a great source of funding. Vince considered his concept and wondered if it would work for the town. But this wasn’t his rodeo. He’d probably be better off not saying anything.

Beer, wine, and mixed drinks continued to flow. Both council members and residents who’d gathered for the meeting sipped on their beverage of choice. Georgie was still the only one with a glass of water.

Vince began to wonder if grassroots democracy meant everyone getting happy. It was good for Sadie’s, and people didn’t seem terribly upset that the town was nearly bankrupt. Maybe handling things this way wasn’t such a bad idea.

Clyde finally got around to new business and asked council members for their input regarding programs to rejuvenate the town. None of them had anything to offer, not even Georgie, and Vince knew how smart she was. In a way, he was surprised she hadn’t thought of his idea.

Maybe he should have given it to her yesterday so she could have presented it if she’d been of a mind to. But he hadn’t done that. So now here he sat, with what he thought was a terrific idea burning a hole in his pocket.

Ida smacked her wineglass down on the table. “I can’t believe nobody has come up with a plan. This is a community of hard workers, of good people, of intelligent people. All we need is a plan. Won’t somebody please come up with a brainstorm? We can’t let Bickford die!”

Vince stood. He had no business saying anything, but if everybody else was drawing a blank, then he couldn’t in good conscience keep quiet. “I’m not a member of this community, so I have no right to speak, but I do have an idea.” He avoided looking at Georgie, because she had the power to distract him, and he needed to keep his mind clear so he could explain this right.

Clyde glanced at him. “Ordinarily we only invite comments from those who live here, but we’re desperate, Vince. If you have an idea, I, for one, would love to hear it.”

“Me, too,” Ida said. “And may I add that you’re real pretty to look at, whoever you are.”

Vince felt his face grow warm. Apparently he could be embarrassed by the comments of a ninetysomething lady. “Thank you, ma’am.”

Ida smiled at him. “You’re welcome, young man. Now say your piece.”

Vince swallowed. Being the life of the party was one thing. Speaking to a roomful of strangers about his idea was something else again. But he’d started this, so he might as well finish it.

“When I worked as a wrangler for the Double J, the guests were offered short trail rides on ranch property, never more than an hour at most. Otherwise they kept busy with swimming, massages, mud baths, stuff like that. In my opinion, they never got the true Western experience. They didn’t see many wild animals and certainly not the Ghost and his herd. I told the ranch owners they should set up overnight rides into the canyon so people could try and spot the wild horses, but the owners weren’t interested.”

He snuck a look at Georgie. She was totally focused on him, but she didn’t look upset, which was good. He’d wondered how she’d react to this, considering her love of those animals.

Feeling encouraged, he went on. “I still think it’s a decent idea. Folks could camp out, have a chuck-wagon meal or two, pretend they were back in the Old West, and maybe catch sight of the horses sometime during their adventure. No guarantee of that, of course. It would be like whale watching, Western-style. That’s it. I’m done.” He took his seat.

The room erupted into excited conversation, and Clyde had to bang his gavel several times to restore order. “So, Vince, are you suggesting that the town could do this to increase tourism?”

“That’s what I’m saying.” Vince shrugged. “It might not work for you, but I think it’s worth considering.”

Ida beamed at him. “Sweetie, you’re a genius. I love it.”