From This Moment On. Debbi Rawlins

an angry father’s shotgun—twice—so that left him with the Sundance guests. And this was the best place to meet the new batch of single women who checked in each week.

      “I don’t have all night, Sam,” Nikki said, impatience flashing in her brown eyes.

      They looked darker in the dim bar lighting. Normally, if he looked closely, Trace could see gold flecks. That is, when he wasn’t fascinated by the shape of her wide generous mouth. He liked the way her lips turned up slightly at the corners.

      “Another beer,” Sam said, moving closer to her, and when her eyes narrowed in warning, he stopped and set his empty bottle on her tray. “Please, darlin’.”

      “I hope you’re not driving.” Her gaze slid over the front of his Western-cut shirt to the sloppy untucked hem. “Are you?”

      “Ah, you worried about me?”

      “No,” she said with a short laugh. “I don’t want you running into anyone.”

      Trace smiled. The other guys chuckled.

      Sam had to be about six-one because Trace was only taller by an inch or so. And Nikki was on the petite side, maybe five-four. so when Sam leaned toward her, it was hard to guess his intention, but he was asking for trouble no matter what he had in mind.

      She tensed, and so did Trace.

      Sam whispered something in her ear, then slowly drew back, a stupid grin on his face.

      Nikki shook her head. “You keep on dreaming,” she said in a dry tone. “See how that works out for you.” She turned to Josh and Lucas. “Y’all want another beer?”

      Her slight Southern drawl came out when she was irritated or excited or caught off guard. Trace didn’t have to guess at how she was feeling right now. She didn’t care for Sam, which seemed hard for the idiot to believe so he’d continued to make a jackass out of himself.

      Trace watched her finish taking drink orders, collect empties and then start to leave. “What about me?”

      She arched her brows at him. “What about you?”

      “I need another beer.”

      “You still have half a bottle left.”

      “It’s warm.”

      Eyeing him with suspicion, she made room on her tray as he walked over to give her the bottle. “You do this all the time.”

      “Do what?” He reached for his Stetson before he remembered it wasn’t sitting on his head but on a wall peg in the corner. To cover the gaffe, he plowed his fingers through his hair. It was too long, hugging the back of his neck and curling at his collar.

      “Tell you what,” Nikki said, her gaze fixed on his hand before slowly moving to his face. “Switch to tap. I’ll give you half a mug at a time and ask Sadie to charge you for a kiddie portion.”

      Sam laughed, and so did the rest of the guys. But Trace didn’t care. Nikki hadn’t looked at any of them the way she’d just looked at him. The heat had lasted only a moment. If he’d blinked he would’ve missed the flicker of awareness in her eyes, the brief parting of her lips as she tipped her head back to meet his gaze.

      “I’ll stick to bottles, and don’t worry about me leaving some behind.” He leaned in just like Sam had and whispered so only she could hear, “I do have to drive.”

      She reared back and looked at him as if he’d lost his mind, then let out a startled laugh. “Maybe I should cut you off now.”

      Better she thought he was being weird or tipsy than figure out he was trying to outdo Sam. Everyone was quiet, stepping aside to clear a path for her, though any minute Josh and the other hands were gonna bust from curiosity. Same with Sam, even if he was trying to appear cool.

      Fighting a smile and shaking her head, Nikki left to fill their orders. He wished she’d laid one of her rare but dazzling smiles on him. He could’ve gotten a lot of mileage out of that, but Trace figured her answer was vague enough that he’d be able to mess with Sam a while longer.

      Already Trace was paying for his mischief. She was halfway across the bar yet he could still smell her. Just like her sexy almond-shaped eyes and lightly golden skin, her scent was exotic, kind of mysterious. It seemed to cling to his shirt, the walls, the air around him. No wonder his pool game had been crap lately. His concentration was shot. Sure didn’t help that he couldn’t seem to drag his gaze away from the sway of her hips.

      He’d finally convinced himself to return to the game when he saw a Sundance guest call Nikki over to her table. The woman’s name was Karina, which he hadn’t known until tonight, and only because she’d been hanging around the pool room earlier. She’d arrived yesterday and was blonde like so many of the guests, but easy to distinguish since she towered over all of them.

      She wasn’t just tall, but close to six feet kind of tall. Behind her back Sam called her The Amazon, but mainly, Trace suspected, because he’d made a play for her and she hadn’t been interested. Trace liked her fine. It was refreshing to have a guest who actually wanted to watch a game of pool and not breathe down a guy’s neck.

      Nobody in the family had wanted to go the dude ranch route. Both his brothers had hated the idea. They were all cattlemen, just like every McAllister man before them. Swallowing their pride left a bitter taste, though Cole and Jesse got off easier than him.

      Cole ran the cattle operation. He’d barely turned twentyone when the reins were passed to him the day after their father’s funeral. Jesse had been in college at the time, and Trace and Rachel still in high school. The sorry state of the Sundance had nothing to do with Cole’s management and everything to do with the economy. In the end, Rachel had been right to push the dude ranch idea to bring in cash. But that didn’t mean Trace liked being her flunky when it came to entertaining the guests. All of them female, because that’s who Rachel targeted.

      When they’d first opened and the women had come pouring in, Trace had a blast. Women of every shape and size literally landing on his doorstep? It was heaven on earth. Now, ten months later, he was jumping at his own shadow and hiding in the stables like a skittish colt.

      Karina said something to Nikki, who nodded and glanced over her shoulder. At him.

      He could’ve kicked himself into next week for getting caught staring. Leo, who owned the filling station at the south end of town, was sitting at a table behind the women, and Trace lifted a hand to him. The older guy frowned, then grudgingly lifted a hand in return, probably wondering if Trace was drunk.

      “You gonna play or what?” Sam sounded irritable. “Plenty other guys are waiting to take your place.”

      “Yeah, I mean, no, go ahead.” He nodded at the cue he’d left leaning against the wall. His mind wouldn’t be on the game. No sense going through the motions and holding up the others.

      “We’re not finished,” Sam said. “Afraid I’m gonna whip your ass?”

      “That’s right.” Trace snorted. “I bet you still believe in Santa Claus, too.”

      Sam cursed under his breath. His mood had gone south fast and no one would want to play him. “Who’s up?” he asked, looking around the room.

      “I’m just watching,” Josh said, and Lucas shook his head.

      The guy from the Lone Wolf didn’t say a word, just sipped his beer. Trace didn’t know his name but nodded to him, and he gave him a friendly nod back. Matt Gunderson had returned to run the ranch since his father had been confined to bed, and Trace wondered if Matt had sent the man to keep an eye on his sister. Probably not. Nikki would catch on and be mad. Then again, it wasn’t likely she’d recognize one of the hands.

      Although she’d been living at the Lone Wolf since her return, according to Matt she wanted nothing to do with the place. Or their father, for which no one in town would fault her. Wallace Gunderson was a despicable human being. But as his illegitimate