The Last-Chance Maverick. Christyne Butler

relax. “It’s been a long few days. Months, actually.”

      “Well, you’ll get a good night’s sleep tonight. Back in your childhood bedroom.”

      Same room, but thankfully the furniture had been updated. There was no way he’d be comfortable in a twin-size bed. “Very funny.”

      “So, I’m guessing you decided not to kick Vanessa out?”

      After the way her eyes lit up and hearing the excitement in her voice as she described the cabin, Jonah knew he couldn’t ask her to leave. It wasn’t her fault he’d come back assuming the place would still be empty. “The subject never came up, but no, I don’t plan to ask her to move.”

      “She got to you, huh?”

      “What’s her story?” Jonah avoided his brother’s question with one of his own. “What do you know about her?”

      “Not much.” Eli shrugged. “I hadn’t met her until Mom had her over for dinner one night back in August and announced she was renting your cabin. I didn’t even know she was an artist until you mentioned it. She’s nice, always with a smile on her face and rarely at a loss for company, from what I’ve heard. But hey, my days usually run twelve to fourteen hours taking care of the ranch. I don’t have time for much else, which should show my brotherly love in saving your butt tonight by coming here. Why are you asking?”

      “No reason. Just curious about who’s living in my place and who I’ll be working with for...well, for however long it takes her to paint a mural.” Jonah tipped back his beer for a long swallow.

      “Maybe you should ask Derek. Seeing how he promised to teach her to ride a horse. Convenient, huh?”

      The cold liquid caught in the sudden tightening of his throat. Jonah tried not to cough, but failed and did his best to hide it as he wiped at his mouth. “Derek’s chasing after her?”

      “You know our brother.”

      Yes, he did. Derek had been popular with the ladies ever since he’d figured out the difference between boys and girls somewhere back in elementary school. Derek did his share of chasing, but usually it was the ladies who went after him, most winding up with nothing to show for their trouble but good times and a broken heart when they got too serious.

      A fire burned in his gut at the idea of Derek messing with Vanessa that way and damned if he knew why. He’d only met the woman today. Just because she’d stirred his curiosity, among other things, didn’t mean anything.

      Neither did the sparks that crackled between them the moment he’d taken her hand this morning. Maybe he’d just been alone for too long. There hadn’t been a woman in his life—or his bed—in a long time. Hell, there hadn’t really been anyone since his ex-wife destroyed their marriage eight years ago and just about destroyed him along with it.

      “Boy, you really must be tired.”

      Jonah blinked, realizing he’d been so lost in his own thoughts he’d missed whatever his brother had said. “Yeah, I am. You must be, too. Maybe we should head home.”

      “Oh, don’t leave now.” A soft feminine voice spoke. “The party’s just getting started.”

      Jonah and his brother turned in unison and found three ladies standing there. His gaze immediately went to the brunette with bouncy curls who stood head and shoulders taller than the two petite blondes flanking her.

      Vanessa.

      She reached for the glasses on the table, handing one each to her friends. Keeping the wineglass for herself, she sent him a wink over the rim when their eyes clashed. A quick glance at all three ladies’ slightly disheveled appearances and apparent thirst at how they finished off their drinks, made him realize he and Eli had taken their table while they’d been on the dance floor.

      “Sorry, didn’t mean to steal your seats.” His brother quickly came to the same conclusion and slid off his stool, but instead of stepping away—as in heading for the exit—he just moved to make room. “It’s pretty crowded tonight. Do you mind if we share?”

      “Only if you’re buying the next round.” One of the blondes spoke while the other giggled.

      Yeah, actually giggled.

      Vanessa smiled, remembering what it felt like to be barely legal enough be in a bar. Not that at twenty-six she was that much older than her new friends, but there were many times she felt much older than her actual age.

      And woefully out of shape.

      Grabbing at the front of her sweater, she yanked it back and forth, enjoying the slight breeze against her heated skin. Thursday nights were busy here at the Ace and the dance floor was crowded. She was finally getting the hang of the steps, dips and sways that went along with country line dancing, but boy, she wished she’d thought to change her outfit before coming tonight.

      She had, in fact, almost stayed home, but then she’d seen the reminder on her calendar and once again thought about the list.

      Number sixteen: learn how to line dance.

      She’d arrived early but the bar had filled up quickly, so she’d offered to share her table with the two girls she’d just met tonight who managed somehow not to look the least bit sweaty or have a lock of their flowing golden manes out of place.

      “Of course, I’m buying.” Eli readily agreed and offered to escort the ladies to the bar. He started to walk away, but then stopped and pointed back at Jonah and her. “No need for introductions, right? You two remember each other?”

      She sidled a look in Jonah’s direction. Oh, yes, she remembered him.

      In fact, Vanessa hadn’t been able to think about much else but Jonah Dalton all day, even when she should’ve been concentrating on the design for the mural that after much more prodding from Nate and Callie was back on.

      “Yep, I think we’ll be fine.” Ignoring the stool he’d vacated the same time as his brother, Vanessa moved closer to the table and set her empty glass down. “Hello again, Mr. Dalton.”

      “Please, call me Jonah.”

      There they were again. She’d thought she’d imagined the tingling that felt like a thousand tiny pinpricks dancing along her skin at the smooth tone of his voice the few minutes they had talked this morning, but now he’d only spoken four words and they were back. Like gangbusters.

      Maybe she should just peel off this darn sweater. It’s not like she didn’t have anything on beneath it. In fact, she wore a double-layer tank top—

      “What can I get for you at the bar, Vanessa?” Eli asked. “Another glass of wine? Maybe a bucket of ice water?”

      His question caused her to stop her frantic moves, her hand now still against her chest. “Oh, an ice water would be great. Just a glass.”

      Eli smiled, then looked at his brother. “Jonah? Another beer?”

      “Yeah, sure. Why not?”

      Hmmm, four more words but with an edge to them this time. Eli and the girls disappeared into the crowd. Vanessa leaned against the table, elbows propped along the edge and her beloved bracelets jangling as they landed on the smooth surface. “So, are you having fun...Jonah?”

      “I’d rather be in bed.”

      Five words this time and boy, the heat level rose again. That’s it. She straightened and eased behind Jonah, as he stood between the table and the back wall, one hand already under the bottom edge of her sweater. “Do you mind?”

      “Mind what?”

      He started to look back over one impossibly wide shoulder, but she nudged him forward with her elbow. “Just give me a minute, I need to...”

      A quick tug and one arm came free. After a tussle with both her bracelets and oversize hoop earrings, she deftly pulled the garment over her head. The cool