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Her whisper, warm breath smelling like bourbon and mint, hit him at the base of his neck. It was hot for July, the sticky kind of hot that made everything seem more sinful than it was.
“Too bad is it? Why is that?” In what he had hoped was a subtle move, he inched his stool closer to hers.
She just may be what the doctor ordered.
“I don’t tend to kiss my friends.”
Or not.
“See, I think you’re closing the door on a world of opportunity.” It was amazing, his ability to speak through the thick wave of disappointment. It shouldn’t matter. The last thing he needed to do tonight was to kiss a stranger. Then again, she wasn’t a stranger, she wasHannah.
“That so?”
Was he hallucinating, or had she dragged her stool a little closer to his?
“It might be.”
“Are you a cowboy?” The words dripped from her.
He stiffened. The question, while innocent, rubbed him the wrong way and he wasn’t sure why. Being labeled as a cowboy reminded him of the ranch. Of his dad. Of everything he didn’t want to be. He was different than his old man; he rode rodeo.Hewas going to be a winner. She didn’t know he was a Hartmann. It was better...better when they didn’t know. Still, it would be nice if, for once, it wasn’t aboutwhathe was butwhohe was.
Brad Hill.
Geez, he was going soft. Viper must’ve hit harder than he realized.
“I am,” he admitted, digging deep to brush back the wave of caution. It had been a long time since he’d kissed a redheaded stranger.
She bit her lip. Perfect teeth. Was it weird that he noticed that?
“Then I guess it doesn’t matter.” She smiled. “Because Inever everkiss cowboys, friends or not.”
Hannah turned her attention back to her drink and Jackson exhaled a hot breath.Never kisses cowboys? This is Montana. Who else is she gonna kiss?
Not me.
Redheads were trouble anyway. Whatever.
“So that’s it then?”
She was talking to him again.
“Well, if you don’t want to be friends...” He smiled at her again despite himself.
“I didn’t say I didn’t want to be friends, although I don’t know you, apart from your offhand comments about women.” She grinned. “I just advised that I don’t kiss my friends.”
“Or cowboys,” he clarified with a grin.
“Specially not cowboys.” She tilted the rest of her drink down, maintaining a static gaze in the process.
“Excuse me.” A new woman pressed against him, holding his gaze a minute too long. But she was too obvious. He looked past her, focusing on Hannah. She was frowning, obviously unhappy her new friend was the recipient of additional female attention. So maybe Boston wasn’t so cut-and-dried after all. Jackson wasn’t the sort to back down from a fight.If it isn’t hard, it isn’t worth it.
“No problem.” He dismissed the clumsy blonde and smiled back at Hannah. “I’m not sure what kind of friend I’d be if I didn’t at least toast to the success of your mysterious interview.”
They don’t grow ’em like that in Massachusetts, Hannah considered as she lifted her glass to meet Brad’s cheers. “Thanks,” she managed to breathe.
In another life, Brad was exactly the kind of cowboy who would mean all sorts of trouble for little old Hannah Bean. And in that past rebellious life, she would’ve leaned forward, hooked a finger through that belt loop and closed all the space between her and Brad. But she’d left that life behind. Acting out due to an absent father was just a little too textbook, and there was another way to get her father’s attention.
Undeniably, it would help if he actuallyknewshe was his daughter. But she had a plan. First, get the job, prove to be invaluable, earn his respect, then bam! Tell him,Rodney, I’m your daughter.
