off and running on her own childhood now, and Sarah started to relax as she began talking about the trials of single motherhood and how they’d made her mom’s eyes bag and caused her breasts to sag before she turned fifty.
“But Sarah knows all about that single mom stuff,” she said. She was referring to Kelsey, but judging from how startled Eric looked, he probably thought Sarah herself had a child named Cosette hidden in some back alley with a cruel hotelier.
“My sister,” she said quickly. “She separated from her husband, and she has a little girl.”
The good-looking man to Gloria’s left seemed to sense her discomfort. Leaning across the table, he shot her a sympathetic smile. “So Lane got bucked off? Was he hurt much?”
“Not too bad.” Sarah flashed him a grateful smile. “He’s fine.”
“How fine?” Gloria made the question as suggestive as possible, lowering her voice into a sultry purr and fluttering her lashes.
“Fine enough to be his typical cowboy self,” Sarah said, trying for a light tone.
“Oh, you would know about cowboys,” Gloria said. “Being a cowgirl and all.”
Sarah narrowed her eyes and gave Gloria a hard stare, but her roommate chattered on, oblivious.
“But he’s probably not into art and wine and all that crap.” Gloria waved at the elegant tabletop dismissively. “I guess that’s why you came home alone.” She simpered and flashed Eric a cute little kitten smile. “I think you chose the wrong brother.” She set her glass down on the table with an audible thunk. Evidently the tabletop was higher than she’d thought. Eric flagged down a waiter and ordered another bottle while Sarah sipped ice water and stared into space, hoping no one would notice she was struggling to figure out damage control strategies to counter Gloria’s revelations.
She idly fingered the running-horse necklace, which she’d slipped inside the modest neckline of her dress. She was wondering how things could possibly get any worse when a ruckus near the door upped the club’s noise level. The men at the table swiveled their heads to stare at the doorway, which framed the impressive figure of none other than Lane Carrigan.
He looked like a bull in a china shop—a rodeo bull, far too big and brutal for his delicate surroundings. Dressed in full formal cowboy regalia, he was holding his hat to his chest. As he strode toward them, his boots thudding on the hardwood floors, he reminded her of the hero of an old-time Western. Shane, striding in to clean up the town. The Outlaw Josey Wales, stopping trouble with his trademark glare.
Sarah ducked her head and took another quick sip of her water, glancing over at Eric. Her heart sank at the self-satisfied smirk on his face. He’d set her up, dammit. She’d told him his brother was hopeless, but apparently he wasn’t giving up on the idea she could change the man’s firmly made-up mind about drilling on the ranch.
She ducked her head, but melting into the shadows was not an option. Gloria was practically jumping out of her seat, leaning across the table and waving frantically at Lane, and her big eyes and bigger smile drew every eye in the room that wasn’t already fixed on the cowboy.
“Lane!” She leaned farther forward, offering the entire room a generous glimpse of cleavage and almost knocking over the bottle.
Lane gave her a cool stare, then smiled as he recognized Sarah.
“There you are, babe,” he said.
Gloria arched her eyebrows and slid her gaze toward Sarah. “Babe?” She rolled her gaze to the ceiling and made a dramatic swooning gesture, her arm flailing overhead. The plaid jacketed man made full use of the opportunity.
Lane strode toward them, his eyes fixed on Sarah, and the room went quiet as a Hollywood main street at high noon.
Sarah tensed and reminded herself that she’d gone too far with him once. Twice, really, if you counted that kiss in the office—and how could you not count that kiss?
But it was starting to feel like dating the boss’s brother was a job requirement. Eric was sitting with one arm flung carelessly over the back of his chair, watching her with an annoying, smug expression. She was starting to understand why Lane didn’t get along with him. Eric was a schemer and a plotter. She had to admit that whatever his other flaws, Lane was honest and direct. It made her wonder why he was making such an effort to pursue her. He knew she was riding high on of a