The Cowboy's Bride Bet - Holly Rayner Page 0,8

out, I thought to myself. Not if I give myself a heart attack before his goons get their hands on me.

“Dammit!” I hissed through clenched teeth. I feel like I’m losing my mind.

Packing my clothes, I grabbed my paper map of the United States and unfolded it.

Would it be easier to disappear in Louisiana or New Mexico?

I traced my finger along a few of the winding country backroads that might allow me to avoid using the interstate.

I could head toward the Gulf and make my way along the coast. It would probably be the easiest way to move fast without having to take another bus. As I learned back in St. Louis, they would want my ID, and all it would take would be Moretti having someone with a badge on his payroll to trace me.

I considered whether it would be worth it to spend a couple hundred bucks on a decoy ticket heading in the opposite direction. Taking a deep breath, I pulled out the stack of cash from the hidden pouch in my backpack, counting and recounting it to make sure I had it right: two thousand four hundred fifty-one dollars and ninety-seven cents.

Packing up what few possessions I had left, I locked my hotel room behind me and headed over to the office to drop off my key. The office was completely dark and still locked up.

Cassie must still be at the rodeo. I looked at my watch, which showed 9:45. She said she’d be back at ten. I guess I could just drop the key through the mail slot.

But somehow, I felt like I owed it to her to say goodbye. Or maybe the strings tugging at my heart were simply due to the fact that a stranger had been kind to me, and it wasn’t so easy to throw aside the only friend I’d had since this crazy mess blew up in my face.

I sighed, looking over at the crooked neon sign buzzing over the little bar next door.

It wouldn’t be the end of the world to have one drink before I hit the road, would it? Then I could give Cassie the room key and not have to bail without thanking her.

Tucking the room key into my back pocket, I headed over toward Jake’s Place.

One drink, I told myself. Maybe three, considering the level of anxiety I was dealing with.

Chapter 4

Connor

What on earth was I thinking?

I sipped my beer, absently watching the football game on the TV mounted in the far corner of the bar. Now that Andy, Kevin, and the boys had gone home, my buzz was wearing off, and I was starting to remember all the reasons I didn’t want to get married.

That said, losing my granddaddy’s convertible was absolutely out of the question. Still, how on earth was I supposed to win that bet?

“Can I get two shots of a decent bourbon and a beer?” A woman with a Northern accent I couldn’t quite place strode up to the bar.

“Import or domestic?” Jake whipped out two shot glasses and grabbed a bottle of bourbon from the second shelf.

“Whatever’s special on tap?” She smiled.

“You got it.” He winked and poured her a pint. “This is called Loco Joe. It’s from a local brewery.”

My God, where did this girl come from? I did my best not to stare, but hot damn. Full lips, thick lashes, long legs, round hips, and olive skin that almost glowed… plus that long brown hair that spilled over her shoulders in waves—wow.

She pulled up a barstool and sat down. “Is the beer named after the bull?” She glanced over at me, then back at Jake.

“You know Loco Joe?” Jake arched an eyebrow. “I didn’t peg you for a local.”

“I’m not.” She shook her head, and her hair caught the light, revealing strands of gold. “I saw Mendez ride earlier. Loco Joe is… quite the athlete.”

“That he is.” Jake nodded, sliding the pint of beer over to her. “Welcome to Greenwater. This first one’s on us.”

“Oh, I couldn’t.” The girl’s posture stiffened.

“You most certainly can.” Francine smiled, putting her arm around Jake, who gave his wife an affectionate squeeze, kissing her forehead. “You a rodeo fan?”

“No, I’m… just passing through, and checked it out on a whim.” The girl relaxed, possibly realizing that Jake was just being hospitable and not hitting on her. “I’d never been to a rodeo in my life before today.”

“You should stick around for tomorrow.” Francine gestured. “The kids’ competitions are earlier in the day,