Seeing Kyle’s megawatt grin, Celia forced herself not to smile back.

“The reason I followed you out in the frigid f**kin’ cold is to ask you what the hell is goin’ on with your family?”

Her focus snapped back to him. “Why?”

“Because we were havin’ a good time playing cards and shootin’ the shit last night. Abe came out of his room and told us to pipe down because Nancy had a headache. Then Hank said Nancy should go home. Seemed Abe and Hank were about to come to blows. So that, coupled with the way you took off ... Are Hank and Abe havin’ problems?”

Celia tipped her head back and puffed out three smoke rings. “Yes. Most of the problems are her fault. Nasty Nancy. Jesus. I hate her. Why do you think I left? It’ll be a long goddamn time before I come back here.” She pointed at him with her cigarette. “You’d better not tattle to Hank or I will punch you in the face and knee you in the ’nads.”

“Still the same tough girl,” he muttered.

“When are you gonna get it through your thick goddamn head that I haven’t been a girl for a long time?”

“I noticed, Celia. Believe me, I noticed.” He shifted his stance. “You’re friends with Harper. What’s goin’ on with her and Bran?”

She wasn’t surprised he’d changed the subject. He always did when she reminded him of her age. “She’s working for him.”

“That’s what he says too.”

“You don’t believe him?”

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Kyle shook his head. “I’ve seen the way he’s looked at her over the years.”

“You’ve all looked at Harper like that over the years,” she pointed out.

“Not like Bran has. Not by a long shot.”

“You noticed it too, huh?”

“Yeah. Wonder why he’s never asked her out. They both live here. Seems kind of stupid that he hasn’t ever made a move.”

“My guess is because he thought she’d turn him down. Bran is cautious. I love him like a brother, but he’s got a chip on his shoulder about not bein’ much more than the boring hometown guy.”

“Really? Why?”

“Remember, you’re a rodeo star. Hank was a bullfighter. Devin’s a famous singer. Bran’s . . . just a rancher.”

“He’s a successful goddamn rancher. Doesn’t he know I’d give anything to have what he has? Why do you think I’m busting my ass out there on the circuit?”

Ever since Kyle had joined the CRA, he’d competed in as many rodeos as possible, trying to earn as much cash as possible. Rumor had it he’d given up his playboy ways and was totally focused on his career. She’d admire his tenacity . . . if he wasn’t such a douche bag.

Keep telling yourself that.

“Well, Harper’s never been impressed by the sort of men other women are.” She inhaled. Let out the smoke slowly. “If anything, she secretly craves the kind of stability Bran could offer her.”

“Do you think anything will happen between them?”

Celia grinned. “Oh, I’m counting on it.”

It took a second, but Kyle returned her grin. “You little sneak. You set them up.”

“Without apology. I saw an opportunity and ran with it. I just hope they’re smart enough to take it, especially when it’s been right there under their noses the whole time.”

Kyle looked at her strangely.

She snapped, “Why you eyeballin’ me like that, Kyle?”

“Because I’m surprised by your romantic streak, Celia. It’s . . . sweet.”

“Fuck off.”

Kyle laughed. Hard. He even slapped his leg a couple of times. “If it works out with Bran and Harper, will you fix me up with some hot chickie? Bein’s you think of me as a brother too?”

No smart-ass comment jumped into her head. She stared at him. “The last way I think of you, Kyle Gilchrist, is like a brother.”

His eyes, always dancing with mischief, were suddenly deadly serious, turning a deep liquid green as he stared back at her.

Oh. This was not good. She’d definitely given too much of herself away.

“Celia,” Eli yelled, “we doin’ this today or what?”

Grateful for the interruption, she turned and walked off. She knew Kyle would let it go for now, but this conversation was far from over.

Chapter Eight

“To good friends. Men suck. Screw ’em. Or better yet, let’s not screw ’em.”

Harper clinked her lowball glass to Celia’s beer bottle. “So you’re not trolling for some buckle action between the sheets?”

“To be honest, just hanging out is a nice change from life on the road. I get tired of being looked at as a piece of ass.”

Harper frowned. “I thought that’s what you wanted. You always complained that none of the guys around here gave you a second glance.”

“Yeah, well, I was an immature idiot.” Celia drained her beer. “I need another. How about you?”

“I’m good.”

“Be right back.”

Saturday night was hopping at Buckeye Joe’s. With the slight warming trend in the weather, residents grabbed the chance to socialize, do a little dancing, and catch up with neighbors who’d literally been snowed under for months.

Harper purposely didn’t allow her gaze to wander to the far side of the bar, where Bran and his buddies—including Celia’s brother Hank—sat. She’d prepared herself to call it a night if they issued an invitation to join their group. But Celia made it clear that she didn’t want to hang with them. Harper could tell that something major was going on with Celia and her family, but she knew better than to push her friend to spill her guts; if she did, Celia would expect Harper to follow suit.




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