Least Likely To Wed. Judy Christenberry

Then he faced her again. “Uh, yeah, you can,” he replied, much to Kelly’s surprise.

      Her surprise turned to panic when he grabbed her by the shoulders, yanked her against him and planted a desperate kiss on her lips.

      A kiss that lost its desperation as it became passionate, warm, even hot. And completely distracting.

      It had been several years since Kelly had been kissed, or even held by a man. Her dead husband, a cowboy too, had cheated on her. She’d vowed never to let a man, in particular a cowboy, get that close again. With that thought, she shoved her way out of his arms and slapped him…hard.

      “Whoa!” he protested, grabbing her hand as she drew back to unload on him again. “What’s wrong with you, woman?”

      “What’s wrong with me? What kind of store do you think this is? Get out of here before I have you arrested!”

      “It was just a friendly kiss! No big deal. You don’t have to get all upset.”

      “We’ve never been friends, Pete Crawford, so don’t hand me that line. And this is a business, not a—a place where you attack women.”

      “Dammit, I didn’t attack you!” he roared, obviously upset by her reaction. Again he looked over his shoulder. He moved a step closer and urgently whispered, “Play along!”

      She had no idea what he meant and would have demanded an explanation had the bell over the door not jangled again, hopefully indicating a real customer.

      She pasted on a smile and walked around Pete. “Good morning,” she greeted the young woman. “May I help you with anything?”

      She and Lindsay, her partner, had enjoyed the praise they’d received for the up-to-date quality of their merchandise and the frequent repeat business they’d done. She didn’t recognize this young lady.

      The customer gave her a bored, superior stare before saying, “No, thank you. I don’t see anything to tempt me…except maybe your other customer.” By the time she’d finished, her voice had turned syrupy sweet. “Hi, lover.”

      It didn’t take much brainpower on Kelly’s part to figure out she was talking to Pete.

      Pete’s well-muscled arm suddenly draped itself over Kelly’s shoulders. She jumped, but he held her in place with all that muscle. “Hi, Sheila. Have you met Kelly?”

      Kelly had intended to protest his behavior, but the woman had insulted her merchandise. She waited to see what would happen.

      “No, I haven’t,” Sheila said, and she didn’t sound as if she wanted to.

      Pete performed the introductions. “This is Sheila Hooten, a friend. Kelly Hampton, my sister’s partner, and an old friend I’m getting to know a lot better.” He squeezed Kelly’s shoulders, pulling her a little closer.

      “Kind of like a sister?” Sheila asked, staring at Kelly.

      “Not hardly,” Pete returned, grinning.

      Kelly looked up to see him leer down at her as if she were one of those women on a pinup calendar.

      “What are you up to, Pete?” she demanded. She didn’t care what kind of game he was playing. She wasn’t going to be treated like some bimbo.

      “Nothing, darlin’. I just hadn’t seen you the past twenty-four hours. I was starving for a look at you.”

      She opened her mouth to protest, and he kissed her again.

      As she broke away, Sheila stomped out of the shop.

      “Who was that poor woman?” she demanded. Whatever Pete had been doing, the object of it was Sheila Hooten.

      “Poor woman?” he repeated, followed by a laugh with no humor in it. “She’s more a—” he paused and stared at Kelly before he continued “—a witch than she is a ‘poor woman.”’

      “I don’t care what she is. Just don’t use me to play your little games ever again!” She turned her back on him and took refuge behind the counter located at the center of the side wall. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”

      Pete Crawford didn’t like being ignored by anyone. He’d always thought of Kelly as his sister’s scrawny playmate from the first grade. When he’d dashed into the store to plead for his sister’s help, he’d found only Kelly. And suddenly he realized she was all grown up.

      Why hadn’t he noticed it before? But the only time he’d seen her in the past ten years had been at Lindsay’s wedding and all his attention had been focused on his sister.

      The instantaneous recognition that Kelly was the solution to his problem hadn’t allowed too much preparation time. And Kelly hadn’t cooperated very well. Fortunately Sheila had gone by the front window while he was kissing Kelly and returned to confront him after the slapped-cheek incident.

      “Fine!” he exclaimed in response to her withdrawal, still standing in the middle of the store where Kelly had left him. “I’m driving out to Gil’s place to talk to Lindsay!”

      “Fine,” she returned coldly, not bothering to look up. He stalked out of the store, wanting to show his displeasure, but he had a lowering feeling she didn’t even notice, much less care.

      All the way to his brother-in-law’s ranch, he muttered to himself about Kelly’s lack of cooperation, alternated with thoughts of the slap…and the kiss. He didn’t want to think about the kiss, but it had been something special. That old chestnut about kissing a lot of frogs before finding a prince—or princess—flashed through his brain, but he dismissed it. After all, he wasn’t looking for a princess. At least not permanently.

      When he arrived at Lindsay’s house, he found her and her husband, Gil Daniels, along with Rafe Hernandez, Gil’s manager and best friend, sitting down to lunch. He was immediately invited to join them.

      “Don’t mind if I do,” he agreed with a grin. He seldom turned down food. “I need to talk to you,” he said, staring at Lindsay. “I can kill two birds with one stone.”

      “Gee,” Lindsay said, sarcasm in her voice, “I love being called a bird.”

      “You know what I mean. Too bad your partner doesn’t,” he muttered as he constructed a Dagwood sandwich.

      Lindsay stared at him. “What does Kelly have to do with your problem?”

      “I, uh, well, I needed her to help to make Sheila believe—well, she wouldn’t cooperate.” He knew how protective Lindsay was of her friend and partner. Suddenly he decided honesty wasn’t the best policy on this particular occasion.

      Lindsay stared at him, clearly still curious about his meaning.

      Gil, who had become a good friend since he’d married Lindsay, said, “Maybe you should tell Lindsay your problem first, Pete.”

      “Uh, yeah. I’ve gone out with Sheila Hooten a few times,” he began. Then he held up a hand, anticipating Lindsay’s response. “I know you told me she was bad news, but we had fun. And I made it clear that’s all I wanted. But she started pressing me.”

      “For what?” Rafe asked.

      “Man, you don’t know nothing about women,” Pete announced. “She wanted me to marry her!”

      “I never said I understood women,” Rafe said, glaring at Pete. “I’m a bachelor.”

      “So am I, and hoping to stay that way.”

      “Come on, Pete,” Gil said with a grin. “Marriage is great.” He smiled at his wife and reached out to touch her. Pete had noticed that Gil constantly touched Lindsay.

      “You’re still a newlywed, Gil. How would you know? Most women don’t start bossing you around until after the first year, usually just after you’ve had a kid and know you can’t leave.”

      Gil