Colton: Rodeo Cowboy. C.J. Carmichael

more than five years had gone by. The heart attack had been unexpected, but according to the family doctor, at least her father’s death had been quick, without time for suffering. After, Leah’s mother hadn’t had the grit—or the family support—to carry on ranching the way Colt’s mother, Sarah Hart, had done after Colt’s father’s death ten years ago. Prue Stockton had sold their small property within six months, along with the cattle and the few horses they still had around the place—which included Country Girl, Leah’s old barrel racing horse.

      Leah picked up her second dart. Focusing on the task at hand was what won her prize money when she competed at rodeos. Now she stared at the dartboard with the same intensity, blanking out the bar, the noise, Colt’s presence…

      To hell with the bull’s-eye. She aimed for the sweet spot in the twentieth section, and let out a whoop when her dart landed perfectly in the thin inner portion between the red and green circles.

      Colt raised his glass, toasting her success. She joined him at the table, touching her bottle to his, basking in the warmth of his smile. He seemed genuinely glad that she’d done well. Colt wasn’t one of those guys who hated losing to a woman. He wasn’t a bad loser, period. She’d never seen him so much as throw his hat into the dirt after a bad ride on a bunking bronc.

      “Maybe I should concede, after all,” he said.

      Not at all sure how she would follow up that last, lucky throw, she was quick to agree. “Let’s just talk for a while.” She took a swallow of beer. “What have you been up to in the last six years?”

      “It’s been sort of a blur,” he admitted. “A lot of time on the road, traveling from rodeo to rodeo.”

      “Had much success?”

      “A little.”

      She knew what a talented athlete he was in the rodeo arena, yet he wasn’t bragging. “Come on. You’ve finalled in the NFR about eight years straight, haven’t you?”

      He shrugged. “Yeah, but I still don’t have a world championship. Sometimes I wonder if I just don’t want it bad enough.”

      His answer surprised her. The Colt she remembered from high school and the rodeo arena didn’t spend a lot of time on introspection. “Rodeo life isn’t easy. Maybe you’re tired.”

      He forced a smile. “I can’t afford to be. Those purses pay my bills.”

      “But you work on Thunder Ranch as well, don’t you?” And surely his mother paid him a salary for that.

      “Not as much as my family would like. But enough about me.” He touched the sleeve of her shirt. “I see you still favor purple.”

      “Lavender,” she corrected, pleased that he’d remembered her rodeo colors. She’d packed away the purple cowboy boots and hat, but she still liked to wear her Western shirts.

      “It’s a good shade for you. Not quite the same color as your eyes. But it makes them stand out, all the same.”

      Leah had been fed glib lines about her eyes before. Lots of times. But Colt’s comment didn’t sound superficial. And there was nothing trite about the way he was smiling at her, in a soft and wondering way.

      Possibly there were depths to this cowboy that she hadn’t appreciated in the past. “And you still favor red.” She touched his arm this time, under the guise of checking out the soft, chambray fabric. But really it was the rock-hard muscles of the male who was wearing the shirt that impressed her.

      Colt sandwiched her hand with his. “That feels nice. Your hand on my arm.”

      She had to admit it did. More than just nice. Colt was different than she remembered and not just in appearance. Maybe she wasn’t the only one who had gone through some hard times and matured these past few years.

      “Leah—I just want to be real clear on one point. You’re not married anymore, right?”

      “That’s right.”

      “Good. I’ve never kissed a married woman before and I was hoping this wasn’t going to be the exception.”

      Chapter Two

      Colt didn’t make a habit of kissing women in public places, either. Generally, he was pretty circumspect when it came to matters of the libido. But this was different. Leah Stockton was different. How could you fall in love at first sight with someone you’d known all your life?

      But the pretty woman sitting at the bar had caught his eye as soon as he walked into the Open Range Saloon. Her long dark hair and tall, slim body were part of the appeal, but even more was the way she sat on her stool, with saddle-perfect posture, her body relaxed and yet confident and poised for action.

      He’d headed straight for her. And then he’d heard her voice as she spoke to the bartender and he’d stopped to listen.

      He knew her.

      A few seconds later, he had the darts in his hand, ready to issue his challenge. But it wasn’t until she looked him in the eyes that it really hit him.

      Holy shit, she was a stunner. He’d known Leah since they were kids and yet, somehow, this truth had never sunk in before. Or maybe the passing years had changed her in some subtle, yet earth-shattering way.

      Just five minutes into their conversation, it occurred to him that Leah might be the answer to a question he hadn’t been smart enough to ask yet. Being unfocused and aimless in your twenties wasn’t such a bad thing. Once you hit thirty, though, your sense of time shifted.

      Years went by faster.

      You understood that opportunities were either seized, or rarely encountered again.

      He wanted to seize. And Leah’s eyes told him she was willing. As he leaned toward her, she met him halfway, and when their mouths connected, he stopped thinking, because everything felt so natural and right. This woman made him melt and burn at the same time, and his body felt stirred with a primal, yet mind-

      blowing intensity.

      “We have to leave,” he told her.

      “Yes.”

      He left money on the table, next to the drinks they hadn’t quite finished. If any of his friends were watching, no one was foolish enough to say anything to him. He felt as if he would have to punch anyone who caused them even a second’s delay in getting out of there.

      The night air was cool and refreshing after the rain, but it didn’t dampen in the slightest his desire to take this woman someplace quiet and private. Leah stumbled slightly as they crossed the street, and he pulled her up closer beside him. Thank God this was Roundup, and there was no traffic, because he couldn’t stop himself from kissing her again, right there, in the middle of the street.

      Her slender body formed perfectly against his bigger, harder one. He felt her fingers in his hair, her breath on his mouth. He filled his own hands with the curves of her butt, pulling her closer, nuzzling her neck, her collarbone, the silky lobe of her ear.

      “Where?” Even his whisper came out sounding hoarse.

      “I don’t know.”

      “Can I take you back to my trailer?”

      Her lips were against his ear now and he could hear her sigh. “I wish—but no. That won’t work.”

      “Then…?” His mind raced as he tried to think of a suitable place to make love with this beautiful woman. But before he could come up with a solution, she was sighing again.

      “You’d better walk me home, Colt. To my mother’s place.”

      Not the answer he’d been hoping for. But maybe, if they were quiet, they could sneak into Leah’s bedroom without waking Prue Stockton. Leah was an adult, after all, and he was someone she’d known most of her life.

      Leah slipped out of his