Wild Seduction. Daire Denis St.

said hesitantly, thinking the shorts were something Brandi would be more likely to wear.

      “The shorts aren’t too short. The shirt is too long.”

      Snip. Snip.

      Before Ash could stop her, Jasmine had begun to chop off the bottom of the shirt. Once she was done, she removed all buttons from her navel down.

      “Now, we just tie this in front like this.” She tied the two ends of material and turned Ashley toward the mirror. “Look at your stomach. People would kill to have a flat stomach like yours.” Jasmine smiled at their reflections. “I think this is exactly the kind of outfit that Colton would like, don’t you?”

      “Do you think?”

      “Uh, yeah. Watching him last night? He seems like a...manly man, you know?”

      No, Ash did not know. Though a flashback from when Colton backed her up against the outside of the hotel made her catch her breath and warmed her skin. He’d certainly seemed manly then.

      Jasmine reached around and unbuttoned another button so that the top of Ashley’s bra was visible. “He’s the kind of man that appreciates it when a woman looks like a woman.” She grinned. “And this should do it.”

      Ashley gazed at her reflection. Did she want to tempt a guy like Colton?

      Her sister’s snide remark rang between her ears: What the hell are you doing with Colton Cross?... I can tell when someone’s getting some. You—my uptight little sister—are not getting any.

      Who said she wanted anything from Colton Cross? She didn’t. But was there anything wrong with wanting people to think that she could tempt a cocky bull rider like Colton Cross?

      Nope. Nothing wrong at all.

      With shoulders back, Ash led the way to the front door.

      Time to find the cowboy and enact a little simulated seduction.

      However, once she and Jasmine arrived at the fairgrounds, Ashley forgot all about Colton. Or, nearly. He was like a morning coffee, long gone but the flavor still subtly lingering hours later.

      She was too busy taking pictures of the grounds, the vendors, the contestants, the kids and games and food booths, while listening to Jasmine catch her up on the last five years of her life.

      “I worked for a few years in my uncle’s law firm. It was okay, mostly administrative stuff. But I kept taking classes in the evenings.”

      Ash focused the lens, zoomed in and focused again. A child’s face, crumpled, about to cry as his balloon slipped out of his fingers.

      Click.

      “What kind of classes?” Ash asked, letting the camera dangle from around her neck as they wandered past the chili tasting booths. “Law? You thinking about law school?”

      Jasmine snorted. “No. I’m not you.” She sniffed. “Aesthetics. Hair. Laser. Makeup. You know. Beauty school stuff.”

      Ashley glanced sideways at her friend. Jasmine had never got the kind of marks that she had in high school. But she was smart; she’d just spent more time on her wardrobe than on her studies. “You could be a lawyer if you wanted, you know.”

      “Doesn’t matter. I don’t need to work.”

      Ash stopped and looked at her friend. “Why not?”

      A weird smile crossed Jazz’s face. “Parker’s loaded. You should see our place in Chicago.” She grabbed Ash’s hands. “In fact, you should come visit. No. You have to come. You’re going to be my maid of honor.”

      Typical. Jasmine hadn’t asked Ash. She’d just decided. Ash both resented and envied that in her friend.

      “So, tell me about Parker.”

      “Oh, you have to meet him. He’s so...suave. Elegant. You know? He’s like Mr. GQ. Or something.”

      Ash used the camera as a means to tune out her friend and her recitation of her perfect life. She wanted to be happy for her, she really, really did. But sometimes it was just so hard when Ashley’s own life felt so insignificant and provincial beside her friend’s.

      Holding the camera in front of her face, she stopped just outside the rodeo grounds, taking a picture of four cowboys heading through the gates: three black hats, one white, Western shirts, bowlegged gaits, their worn jeans fitting perfectly.

      Say what you want about cowboys, but rodeo boys had seriously nice asses.

      Click.

      “Excuse me, have you seen a little boy? Four years old, blond hair, Superman shirt, green balloon?”

      Ashley lowered her camera. A woman she didn’t recognize stood there with a baby in her arms and a worried expression on her face.

      “I don’t think so. What’s his name?” Jasmine asked.

      “Noah.”

      Ashley scrolled through the images on her camera, finding the one with the child and the balloon. Sure enough, the boy was wearing a Superman shirt. She showed it to the woman.

      “Yes. That’s him. Where was he?”

      “Over by the ring toss. Maybe ten, fifteen minutes ago.”

      “Thank you.” The woman hurried off.

      Ash checked her watch. The opening ceremony for the rodeo would be starting in five minutes. She was supposed to get pictures. She hesitated. “Maybe we should go give her a hand.”

      “I’ll go,” Jasmine offered. “You go on in. I’ll meet up with you later.”

      “Thanks, Jazz.”

      Jazz took off after the young mom, walking briskly to catch up. A stingy something-or-other reverberated inside Ashley’s chest. How was it possible to both like someone so much but also resent them, too? Jasmine was her best friend, and Ash—well, she just had to say it—she was jealous of her. Thoroughly, bitterly jealous.

      Always had been.

      With a shake of her head, she entered the rodeo grounds, showing her press pass to the ticket takers at the door. And what does she do about her juvenile jealousy? Does she own up to it? Oh, no. She goes and makes up a boyfriend to deal with it. Stupid.

      “Ash, up here.”

      As the chair of the Fair Committee, her father was sitting on the stage behind the announcer’s podium. Ash climbed up to join him.

      “This’ll be the best spot for the opening ceremonies.” He checked his watch. “You were cutting it close. It’s starting right away.”

      “Then I’d say I was just on time.” She took a quick pic of her father and the other board members, all wearing white hats. Then got a picture of the announcer, Hal Roberts, just as he welcomed everyone to the kickoff of the rodeo.

      The opening procession commenced with the flag bearers on horseback, carrying the county, state and American flags. The rodeo princesses followed, then judges and competitors until the ring was filled with people on horses, stomping impatiently, picking up on the nerves of the competitors.

      Before the national anthem could begin, there was a commotion just below the announcer’s table.

      Shit!

      A little boy wearing a Superman shirt had slipped between the bars separating the ring from the stands and was now walking among the legs of the already nervous horses. His face was red, and he was crying loudly.

      Hal’s voice rose in a panic. “There’s a young child in the ring. Can everyone please remain—”

      Before he could finish, a cowboy slid down from his horse, jogged over to the kid and scooped him up. He carried him toward the stage and handed him over to Hal, saying, “You’re okay, kid. Everything’s fine.”

      That’s