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She focused her gaze on the notebook to escape any perceptive looks from Jessica and wrote Colton’s name down on the page, resisting the urge to add Mrs. to the front of it. As the silence grew, she scribbled several more illegible bullet points in her notebook—that likely didn’t make any sense to anyone, especially her—in order to pretend she wasn’t impacted by who she was about to meet.
In person. At his ranch house. All alone.
Isabelle looked up at them again after several seconds of ensuing silence.
“Oh…right, the meeting is set up for tomorrow morning at nine,” Gray said, his tone a bit quizzical. He handed her a folded sheet of paper. “Here are the directions to get there and a list of things I’d like to know. If either of you two think of any other questions we should consider, put them down and ask him. We can meet back here tomorrow night and make more solid plans.”
Isabelle bent her head once more, pretending to study the simple directions. She then closed her eyes briefly as fantasies of Colton mixed together with Warrick filled her mind inappropriately. Back. Burner. Go. Now.
Once composed, she took a deep breath and looked up again.
Jessica grinned, adding, “Will do, boss. I know Isabelle will do a very comprehensive job.”
Isabelle nodded. She couldn’t wait to get out there and meet Colton in person. She’d found an online website with old pictures of Colton when he’d won contests for roping and riding back when he’d been on the local rodeo circuit. That was why she thought he was pretty. He was perfection wrapped in denim with a cowboy hat on top.
Gray stood, waved, and headed toward his office, closing the door.
“All right, hot shot. Tell me everything,” Jessica said when he was out of the room.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. There’s nothing to tell.”
“Oh yes there is. How did you meet Colton?”
Isabelle raised her right hand. “I swear, I have never met Colton Landry in my life.”
Jessica’s brows furrowed. She whispered, “Then why did you turn sixty-nine shades of red when Gray only said his name a few minutes ago?”
Isabelle felt the familiar heat rising in her cheeks once more.
Jessica pointed at her. “And now you’re blushing again. What is up with you?”
“All right. Fine. I’ll tell you. But you better keep it quiet.”
She held up three fingers as if giving some sort of scout salute. “I’ll take it to the grave. Now spill.”
“I ran into Warrick Harper at the courthouse. Literally ran into him.” She pressed her palms together to demonstrate. She then inhaled deeply. “He’s…very…muscular, attractive, gorgeous really, and a whole lot of other juicy adjectives I could list given time.”
Jessica grinned. “Oh my, you’ve got it bad for the prosecutor.”
“Do you know Warrick?” Isabelle asked.
She shrugged. “Not really. The sheriff, Duke Stanton, told me once that he’s a hard-ass of the first order.
“Also when our old boss Mr. Barrington came to Old West Town with my ex-fiancé to have me imprisoned—falsely I might add—they got Warrick involved in order to press charges. But it turned out he didn’t need to arrest me. For which I was grateful.”
“That’s right. I forgot all about that. So…what do you think about the prosecutor?”
Jessica smiled. “Well, he seemed stern in my case, but he’s the prosecutor and that’s the way he’s supposed to be. However, he wasn’t unreasonable or anything. Ultimately, I’m grateful he didn’t have me put in jail and promptly prosecuted. But I’d say the more important question is what do you think about him?”
Isabelle looked behind her to ensure Jessica’s office door was closed tight. She turned and whispered, “If I’d had my way, I’d still be in Warrick’s office possibly having sex on his desk right now. Which is the true reason I was late. I couldn’t seem to stop kissing him.”
Jessica giggled. “I knew it. Even before you were blushing about Colton Landry, I saw a particular glow emanating from you.”
“Now you know.”
“Who told you that Warrick and Colton are best friends?”
“Duke.”
“Oh?” Jessica crossed her arms, her expression dubious. “Is he in the matchmaking business now?”
“Possibly. Remember the last girls night out we had at the Trails End Tavern?”
“Vaguely. I drank. A lot.” She grinned, dropping her arms at her sides. “Wasn’t he at the bar that night?”
Isabelle narrowed her eyes. “Don’t you remember? Duke drove us home as our designated driver.”
