Cowboys Like Us. Vicki Thompson Lewis

sighed. Josie had specifically requested that he put on the brakes, and he was considering flooring it. She was obviously protective of Caro, and Logan admired that. But should Josie be the one to decide what happened between Caro and him? Or should she be allowed to choose for herself?

      So much hinged on Caro’s attitude. After spending several hours working with her, he saw her as upbeat and levelheaded, not the sort of woman who would expect one fun night together meant wedding bells.

      He started the dishwasher and walked back out into the bar, where Caro wielded a push broom with gusto. The rapid motion made her breasts quiver under her red checked Western shirt. From her complete concentration, someone might conclude that the fate of the world rested on getting every last bit of debris off the floor.

      Logan had always admired hustle, but he knew she must be tired. “I’d be glad to finish that up if there’s something else you need to do to close the place down.”

      “Not really.” She kept sweeping, her gaze focused intently on the job, her fingers clenched around the broom handle. “As you noticed, it was an open bar tonight, which was Josie and Jack’s gift to the happy couple, so I don’t have to tally any receipts.”

      “Want me to take out the trash?”

      She shook her head and kept working. “It’s better to put it out in the morning. Once in a while we have bears come through at night.” She looked up. “We’re basically done, Logan. Thanks so much. You can head on over to Judy’s place if you want.” She put her head down and continued to sweep as if her life depended on it.

      “Trying to get rid of me?”

      She stopped in midsweep and gazed at him. “No, but I’ll bet you’re exhausted.”

      “Funniest thing, but I’m not particularly sleepy.”

      “Oh.” She started sweeping again, but her motions were slower. “Then if you don’t mind getting the small broom and that long-handled dustpan, I’d appreciate it.”

      “I can do that.” He found them over in a corner and began gathering up the piles she’d made and dumping everything into a plastic-lined trash can.

      “Logan, do you have a girlfriend?”

      He almost choked on his answer. “No.” He could think of only one reason for that question. He cleared his throat so he could elaborate as he continued to scoop up trash. “I was dating someone, but it turned out she wasn’t crazy about going out with an ex-baseball player.”

      “Ouch.”

      He glanced over at Caro. “Actually, it was one of the good things about leaving the game. She had a chance to show her true colors.” He paused. “Do you have a boyfriend?” From Josie’s comments, he was fairly sure she didn’t, but he might as well make certain.

      She leaned on the broom. “I used to. Curtis got tired of me not being available because of my grandma. We broke up about six months ago.” She took a deep breath. “Quite obviously, I’m not girlfriend material at the moment. There’s no room in my life for a man.”

      Logan nodded, as if they were discussing the weather. “I understand completely.”

      “But …”

      “Yes?” Dear God, he hoped this conversation was leading where he thought it was.

      She opened her mouth, and then closed it again. When she finally spoke, the words came out in a rush. “Would you be interested in coming up for a nightcap?” Her cheeks were pink but her gaze was steady.

      His heart thudded in anticipation, but he wanted to be sure this was what she really wanted. “You must be tired.”

      Her hazel eyes grew dark and her breathing quickened. “Not that tired.”

      Dear God, she wanted him in her bed. Only a fool would pass up a chance like this, and Logan was no fool. “Then yes. Yes, I would love a nightcap.”

      3

      CARO COULDN’T QUITE believe she’d just invited Logan Carswell, big league baseball star, up to her apartment. Even more unbelievable, he’d accepted. Eagerly. She’d acted on pure instinct, and apparently her instincts were on target. They wanted each other.

      The old nightcap routine was as transparent as ever. He had to know as well as she did why they were going up there. And unless Logan walked around with condoms in his wallet, he needed to make a trip into the Spirits and Spurs men’s room. After Curtis had dumped her, she’d taken the remaining condoms out of the medicine cabinet and cut them up with a pair of scissors as part of some silly ritual to proclaim her new celibacy.

      Once Logan left town, whenever that turned out to be, she’d be celibate again, at least until her grandmother regained her former spirit. But opportunity had pounded on the door in the person of Logan Carswell, wounded athlete. Caro was more than ready to give up her mental chastity belt and embrace that opportunity to have a little fun.

      Logan dumped one final dustpan’s worth in the trash. “Is that it?”

      “Yes.” Her heart raced. “I’ll put the brooms away in the kitchen if you’ll …” She found herself unable to finish the sentence. Inviting him up to her place on the flimsy pretext of a nightcap was one thing. Telling him to patronize the vending machine in the men’s room was a whole new level of chutzpah.

      “If I’ll what?” He met her gaze. “Oh.” Understanding registered in his brown eyes. “Guess I’ll just duck into the bathroom for a minute.”

      “Okay.” Her cheeks felt warm with embarrassment as she grabbed both brooms and the long-handled dustpan. She fumbled and dropped the push broom. The handle banged against the floor.

      Before she could retrieve it, Logan reached for it in one fluid motion and held it toward her. “Here you go.”

      “Thanks. I’ll be right back.” What a doofus she must seem to a guy with his sophistication. Here she was, dropping brooms and sending him after condoms. She wondered if the women in Chicago always had supplies on hand before they impulsively asked someone up for a nightcap. Probably.

      Well, she was a small-town girl from Shoshone. Besides, she’d been pissed at Curtis, and cutting up the condoms had seemed justified at the time. She’d wanted to destroy something, and that had been the best target for her anger.

      Logan hadn’t returned by the time she walked back into the bar. Her hands trembled slightly as she pulled her keys out of her pocket and locked the back door. Then she doused all the lights except for the soft ones that Josie left on for security purposes, although crime was unlikely in Shoshone.

      The dim light helped calm her a little, but if Logan didn’t come out soon, she was seriously going to lose her nerve. She’d almost made up her mind to cancel the plan when she heard the door to the men’s room open. Then she heard it swing shut again.

      She gulped. It was put up or shut up time.

      He walked toward her. “Seen any ghosts yet?”

      “Nope.” She wondered how many condoms he’d bought and if that was what had taken him so long, but she wasn’t about to ask.

      “What kind of ghosts are they supposed to be?”

      “Cowboy ghosts, of course.” She could barely hear herself speak over the thundering of her heart in her ears. “Have you heard of the old song ‘Ghost Riders in the Sky’?”

      “Yeah, I think so.”

      “They call these guys ‘ghost drinkers in the bar.’”

      He laughed. “I like that. I almost wish one would show up, but not enough to hang around waiting.”

      So he wanted to get on with it. Gulp. “Like I said, I’ve never seen one myself.” Her chest felt as if somebody had tightened a cinch around it. She’d never done