wasn’t bad looking—reasonably fit, dressed in the typical cowboy uniform of striped shirt, Wranglers, and boots. The shirt was faded as if it had been washed about a hundred times, but Lane didn’t think Sarah cared about the condition of a man’s clothes. If she did, his own would never pass muster. And however cold she was now, she’d kissed him like she wanted him. He brushed a finger over his lips and she flashed him a glare almost as cold as she’d given the other guy.
Maybe coming to the beer tent was a mistake. He should have kept her in the shadow of the potato skins stand.
As Sarah swung her gaze back to the cowboy, the guy turned like he could feel the chill. When his eyes lit on her face he froze as if he’d been turned to a pillar of ice.
“Sarah Landon,” he said. “Shit.”
So he knew her? That was odd. Though she’d seemed remarkably comfortable at the rodeo, she sure didn’t seem like the type to spend time in the kinds of places where this guy probably hung out. Unless he was from Texas or Colorado, where she’d stomped out a couple small towns at the bidding of the corporations she’d worked for. Maybe that’s what this was about.
“Mike Sullivan.” Sarah spat out the name like it was a cuss word. She turned to Lane. “Could you get me a beer, please?” She said it curtly, still staring down the mystery cowboy. Suddenly, she seemed less like a delicate flower and more like a cactus blossom, beautiful but ringed by thorns. He felt like saying no, but maybe it was better to get away before she started scratching the other guy’s eyes out.
Starting toward the bar, he wove his way through the crowd of cowboy-hatted men and tight-jeaned women. Halfway there, he turned and saw the guy striding over to her, fists clenched at his side and a pugnacious scowl on his face. Lane paused midstride to listen in.
“What are you doing here?” the guy asked Sarah.
“Working,” she said. “And I suppose you’re having a good time.”
She said it like it was the worst thing a guy could do. Lane definitely needed to rethink hanging out with this woman. She was even more straitlaced than he’d thought.
“I suppose I am.”
The guy’s chin jutted in defiance, his hands still clenched into fists. Something was wrong with this picture. Maybe it was the familiar way the guy spoke to Sarah. Maybe it was the way he stood, stiff and hostile. He looked like a man about to start a fistfight. Surely he wouldn’t hit a woman. Lane walked back to Sarah and stood just behind her. The guy’s eyes flicked toward him and he did a quick double take.
“Hey, you’re Lane Carrigan.”
Sarah turned and scowled at Lane. “I thought you were getting a beer.”
“Thought you might need me.”
“I don’t.” Her tone was frosty as a chilled mug.
“You sure?”
“Hey, run while you can, buddy.” The guy spat out a bitter laugh. “Sarah’s liable to spit in your eye before she even knows your name.”
“Spit?” Sarah snorted. “That would be too mild.”
“Yeah, well,” the guy said. “Having second thoughts isn’t a capital offense, you know.”
“No?” Sarah lifted her chin imperiously. “Well, it should be.” She waved the guy away. “Have a good time, Mike.”
What the hell was she so upset about? And how did she know this guy? The mystery was intriguing, but if she had a problem with a guy having a good time Lane was done with her. Sarah might have softened when he’d kissed her, but now she was all sharp edges.
He’d get her the beer she’d asked for, but then he needed to get her home and get away from her. No matter how much he’d enjoyed that kiss.
***
“Who was that?” Lane had returned from the bar with two beers, making his way through the crowd in record time despite the shout-outs of half-a-dozen cowboys and an equal number of eager buckle bunnies.
“He’s nobody.” Sarah downed half the beer in one gulp, determined to finish it and go. She’d thought she could get away with coming here. Because of the lack of jobs, there was hardly anyone under the age of sixty left in the Two Shot area.
But Mike didn’t care about jobs. The guy had all the ambition of a cat in the sun. He’d seemed smitten with her sister, and he’d done the right thing for a while, sticking around after the baby was