Ride Rough - Tessa Layne Page 0,7

pick up."

"That would show Bob."

"Exactly. And Charlie the Cheater," Mariah added scornfully, using the nickname she'd come up with for Cecilia's ex. "Don't let those guys get you down. You're a great journalist, sis. You can do anything. I know you can. Are you almost to Prairie?"

God, she loved her sister. Mariah was relentlessly positive, and it never failed to rub off on her. Hope began to creep back into Cecilia's tired, bruised heart. "Just about. I figured I'd hit Dottie's Diner and drown myself in a pot of coffee before going to talk to Mr. McCabe about a job."

"Do you reeeeeaaally want to do that? You know he'll only let you write up the police blotter."

Cecilia sighed heavily as she slowed to a stop at Prairie's only light. She hated to admit it, but her sister was probably right. There wasn't enough news in Prairie to justify more than one writer. "I don't know, I guess? Maybe I could put Prairie on the map for something other than tornadoes and rodeos."

"How about the diner? At least you'd meet people, and you wouldn't be writing fluff. And maybe," Mariah's voice turned sly. "You'll overhear a story you can run with."

"Okay, fine, I'll think about it," she said as she pulled into the gravel parking lot adjacent to Dottie's Diner and cut the engine as she said goodbye to her sister. It was seven minutes past six a.m., and already the parking lot was full of pickups. All the local ranchers coming in for a cuppa and maybe some eggs or pie, before heading back to their ranches for the next round of work. Cecilia exited the car and smoothed her skirt, trying to ignore the nervous flutter in her belly. She was still dressed in yesterday's work clothes and she'd forgotten to check her face in the rearview before stepping out. She probably had bags under her eyes and mascara running down her face.

"Time to face the music," she muttered, picking her way through the gravel in the hopes that the rocks wouldn't slip through the straps of her favorite silver stiletto gladiator sandals. They might rock along the Miracle Mile, but they were a terrible choice for Prairie. At least they gave her confidence, even if her blisters still stung from yesterday's long walk down Michigan Avenue. She rolled her shoulders, straightened her spine and pulled on the door. Above her, the welcoming bell jangled loudly and conversation stopped as she entered.

For one panicked moment, Cecilia's stomach yo-yoed then dropped to her toes. The urge to turn and flee made her fingers twitch. The weight of a dozen or more pairs of eyes landed squarely on her. Early mornings at the diner remained an old-timer's world, and it was clear by the looks from some of the men, she was an intruder and unwelcome. Except for the lone pair of amused hazel eyes she tangled with in the back corner. There was a magnet in them or something, because she couldn't look away. Cecilia's heart tripped, and her stomach yo-yoed again, but for different reasons. Who was he? And why was he looking at her that way? Like... like, he knew her. In the most intimate, disturbing sense of the word. She narrowed her eyes, staring straight back, pulse hammering, because the way he stared at her was so familiar. Too familiar. Pretty nervy of him, if you asked her. Because while she was certain they'd met before, she didn't know him. Not in the way his gaze implied. Although for a split second her mind went to a very dirty place, because lord have mercy, the man was Greek god gorgeous. His cowboy hat sat low on his forehead, which only accentuated his dark eyebrows and eyelashes any female would kill for. She wasn't a beard woman, but on him, it was damn near perfect - just enough to be sexy and not overly pretentious. The line of it accentuated the hard cut of his jaw and a firm mouth, but plump enough for kissing - really good kissing. And biceps that gently stretched the plaid of his shirt. She could only imagine what was underneath the table. Heat flushed across her chest. And he still stared. She swallowed hard, then gave herself a mental slap. She knew all too well how men like that treated women. Easy on the eyes, hard on the heart.

"What in tarnation?" Dottie Grace boomed as she bustled out from behind the long