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“Just sayin’,” came her friend’s sassy retort.
Sky folded her arms over her chest once more. A warm spring breeze ruffled the leaves on the voluptuous trees dotting the ranch in clusters and blew strands of dark-auburn hair about her shoulders and face. She paid them no mind.
She asked, “How am I so far out of the loop?”
“Do you really want me to answer that?” Reese countered. “’Cause it’s a very simple scenario of you letting that sidewinder you
called a boyfriend and manager crush your cell phone under the tires of his ’57 Cadillac convertible.”
“I didn’t let him. Asshole”—ah! his new nickname—”took it from my purse. I searched for weeks and finally found the bits and pieces on the dirt road about a half mile from my trailer in Luckenbach, after he’d paid me an unwelcomed visit there.”
She’d explained to Reese what she’d surmised had happened to the phone when Reese had finally called the dance hall to locate her, since she obviously wasn’t returning messages without it.
Truth be told, Sky had been lax about keeping in contact with her Wilder friends over the past few years. Nothing like the class of 2000’s Most-Likely-to-Rock-the-World falling so miserably short, she was hiding out at the neverending cowboy-and-music fest that was Luckenbach, baking her cakes.
No, she hadn’t failed financially. She’d raked in plenty of cash with her various jobs—and now Mac Willet was after a hefty amount of her nest egg. And she would concede that she had, indeed, amassed a modicum of notoriety. Was, in fact, the most famous daughter, sister and friend in Wilder. But Sky had never excelled at anything… She’d gotten by. Had earned a stamp in her career passport for the things everyone her whole life had claimed she ought to do, given her gregarious personality and what they’d always considered immense talent.
In reality, Sky was a Jill of most trades—not a born superstar. There wasn’t one single thing that she did so exceptionally well that she’d call herself successful at it, except those damn wagon-wheel cakes. But she loved baking, so she couldn’t complain there.
Beside her, Reese urged, “Check this place out with me. Puh-leeeeze?”
Sky sighed. “Exactly how much energy do you intend to put into wearing me down?”
Reese snickered.
“That’s what I thought.” She threw her hands up in the air in surrender. “Fine. Show me around. But I’m not interested in meeting any former Marine stud. I’ve been through more men than Erica Kane.”
“Ha! Remember when we’d ditch school so we could see one of her many weddings on All My Children?”
“Who would have guessed my romantic life would end up paralleling hers? Wrong man after wrong man after disastrously wrong man.” Yes, the asshole had damn near wrecked her. In more ways than one, but that wasn’t something she was inclined to share. Not even with Reese.
“Major difference, my friend,” Reese pointed out. “Erica was a serial cheater. You’re more loyal than a Labrador.”
“To my own detriment. That’s how I ended up in Nashville with the sidewinder, if you’ll recall. Boyfriend number, what? Two hundred and seven?”
Reese snorted. “Think you capped out at a whoppin’ three since high school, my little drama queen.”
“Sure feels like two hundred and seven.”
“Well, I’m telling you, once you see the setup here, you’re gonna make up your mind in a heartbeat about staying. And as for Sam Bennett…” She jerked her chin toward the western edge of the semicircle drive. “Here he comes now.”
Sky rolled her eyes. “Honey, I have seen a cowboy on a horse before. Does nothing for—” A soft gasp escaped her parted lips as Sam and his bay stallion trotted toward them, then slowed to a leisurely gait.
The former Marine was strapping—a powerhouse of a man, sitting tall in the saddle, a black Stetson pulled low, shrouding his eyes. Regardless of the hat, Sky got a fine view of his chiseled cheekbones and strong jaw line. His thick, lightly corded neck gave way to broad shoulders, bulging biceps and ridged abs, all of which his tight black T-shirt showed off in the most enticing way.
Given the long, muscular legs encased in jeans, she suspected he was a good six-foot-two or three inches of rugged masculinity. A mountain of a man, really, if ever she’d seen one.
He casually tipped his hat as he and his horse eased by. “Afternoon, ladies.” His slow, sensual drawl oozed through Sky’s veins like warm molasses.
And caused an unexpected, yet delicious tickle along her clit. Catching her by surprise.
Holy Moses, it’d been a long, long time since she’d felt even the tiniest hint of desire and here it was, coming back to her on a rush of heat and body-tingling lust. Slamming into her, really. She had to force herself not to take a step back, as though the shock of an instantaneous attraction were a living, breathing, physical entity pressing in on her.
Fighting the slack jaw she felt coming on—and maybe a bit of drool at the corners of her mouth—she watched Sam head toward the large stable to the east, admiring his expansive back, tapered waist and what promised to be a very fine ass when the man stood.
Her gaze drifted back up. Those shoulders… Impossibly broad and so well defined even his shirt couldn’t conceal the sinew that bunched and released as he picked up the pace again with his horse, whose tail flipped arrogantly as they trotted away.
Even the damn horse knew the two of them were a sight to behold.
