A Cowboy's Claim. Marin Thomas

white letters across the front stopped at their table.

      “I’ll take an iced tea,” Tanya said.

      “Make mine a sweet tea.” He’d need the sugar to keep going the rest of the day.

      “If you know what you want to eat, I’ll put your order in before I get your drinks.”

      “Sure,” Tanya said. “Cheeseburger, hold the onions.”

      “Fries?” the waitress asked. Tanya shook her head.

      “I’ll have a double cheeseburger with everything. And fries.”

      “Comin’ right up.”

      Someone dropped a quarter in the jukebox and a Miranda Lambert song came on. Tanya glanced toward the dance floor, but Vic pretended interest in the baseball game televised on the TV behind the bar.

      “I wish I had just a little bit of that winning streak you’re running on,” she said.

      “All winning streaks come to an end eventually.” He hoped his streak ended after winning a buckle in Vegas later this year.

      “So...” She peeked at him from beneath light brown lashes.

      Alarm bells went off inside his head, and the cushioned seat beneath his backside turned to cement.

      “Are you seeing anyone?” Her cheeks flushed pink.

      “No one steady.” No one period. He didn’t want to give Tanya the idea that he was open to a relationship, but he was curious. “You?”

      She shook her head. “Who’s got time, right?” A shadow covered her blue eyes. Then she blinked and it disappeared.

      “Is your ex making it tough for you to date?” He wasn’t an expert on relationships, but he was a guy and he knew firsthand that guys could be jerks.

      “Not in the way you mean.” She opened her mouth to explain, but the waitress appeared with their drinks.

      “Food should be up in ten minutes.”

      Against his better judgment, Vic prompted Tanya to confide in him. “I’m a good listener if you want someone to unload on.”

      “I don’t want to bore you with the details.”

      “Nothing about you is boring.” Damn. Like an inexperienced poker player, he’d just shown his hand. Tanya was too easy to talk to and he hadn’t had a meaningful conversation with anyone in months. Each day he spoke to numerous people—convenience-store clerks, rodeo personnel and waitresses—but they were just words.

      “Beau said he’d always dreamed of marrying the girl next door.” She sipped her tea. “Then after I caught him cheating—which I later came to find out was actually the fourth buckle bunny he’d slept with behind my back—he admitted that I wasn’t exciting enough for him.” She snorted.

      Holy hell. Beau Billings was a bigger fool than Vic first believed. Tanya McGee didn’t have a buckle bunny body, but that didn’t make her any less hot in Vic’s eyes. “His loss.”

      “Thanks.” She blew out a soft sigh. “Beau’s a sore loser. At first he tried to talk me out of filing for a divorce, insisting we should start a family. That being a father would keep him grounded.”

      Family. The word made Vic nauseated. His only brother died years ago, killed by police during an armed robbery. Vic’s older sister by one year had committed suicide after she was raped by a gangbanger and discovered she was pregnant. His younger sister by ten years had gotten pregnant at seventeen and ended up in jail for prostitution, leaving his mother with custody of her only grandson. “Do you want kids?”

      “Not with Beau, that’s for sure.” Her gaze softened. “But yes, someday I’d like to have a family of my own.”

      Vic didn’t care to talk about family—he hadn’t had a good experience with his. “I thought Slingshot might come through for you this afternoon. That horse can run.”

      “I’m not crazy for thinking Slingshot has it in him to win, right?”

      “Maybe after a year of competition he’ll get his legs under him.”

      “I wish I had that long,” she said.

      “What do you mean?”

      Tanya nodded to the waitress heading their way with the food. After they were left alone, she said, “If I don’t win in New Mexico, my stepfather’s pulling his support. But I’m not ready to give up on Slingshot yet.”

      “Then keep competing.” He bit into his burger, taking a small bite so his chewing wouldn’t distort his face, not that Tanya ever stared at his scar—it was as if she couldn’t see the puckered flesh dissecting his cheek.

      “Easy for you to say when you place in the money at every event.” She waved a hand before her face. “I’m not throwing in the towel yet. I have enough in savings to last through the end of the month if we don’t win next time.”

      “What did you do between your divorce and returning to the circuit?”

      “I train Mason’s Appaloosas.” She snuck one of his fries and dipped it into the circle of ketchup he’d poured on his plate. “I consider myself a good trainer, but every technique I’ve tried with Slingshot has backfired.” She swallowed another bite, then said, “I worry that it’s me. That Slingshot doesn’t want me riding him.”

      “Why do you think that?”

      “He’s the first horse I’ve competed on that someone else worked with first.” A tiny wrinkle appeared between her eyebrows. “Maybe he’s still attached to his previous trainer.”

      Vic checked his cell phone. He still had plenty of time to get to the Dinosaur Roundup Rodeo. “Where in New Mexico are you and Slingshot headed?”

      “Moriarty for the WPRA barrel-racing event. What’s next after Vernal for you?”

      “Steamboat Springs, Colorado, tomorrow afternoon, then Laramie, Wyoming, that night.”

      “July’s a busy rodeo month, but what do you normally do between competitions the rest of the year?”

      “Rest.” Vic used to spend time with Riley and Maria Fitzgerald at the Juan Alvarez Ranch for Boys in New Mexico, but when they hired Cruz as a wrangler after he got out of prison, Vic hadn’t had the guts to visit. Instead he hid out in cheap motel rooms and surfed the web or read the stash of books he carried on the road with him.

      The bar was filling up. If he left now, he could catch a catnap in his truck before his next ride.

      “Vic?”

      He swung his gaze to Tanya.

      “Ask me.” She tilted her head toward the dance floor.

      He shouldn’t.

      She smiled. “It’s just a dance.”

      What could it hurt? One dance and then he’d leave. He stood and held out his hand. Her fingers slid across his palm and he fought the urge to hold her prisoner and never let her go. He found an open spot on the floor and Tanya snuggled close as if they were regular dance partners—make that lovers.

      He placed his hand against her lower back and she pressed her palm to his chest. The floor was too crowded to move more than a few inches in any direction, so they stood in place, their hips swaying...bumping and oh man. Tanya’s warm body and soft curves put his willpower to the test. If he closed his eyes he could imagine they were alone in a dark room instead of standing in a crowd of sweaty bodies.

      “It’s been forever since I’ve danced.” Tanya’s confession ignited a slow burn inside him. He tightened his arms around her. She felt small and vulnerable, which made it all the more impressive that she could handle a horse like Slingshot.

      “Have you ever been married,