Candace lowered her voice even more. “Come on, Nic, I know you’ve had a teeny bit of experience in…things.”
“Not that sort of experience.” She may have read a lot of romances, but she was smart enough to know that her life wasn’t one of them—even if she wished it was. “You know I’ve never been all that adventurous.”
“Again…if you just had the chance.” Candace tilted her head, the feathers in her hair blowing under the ceiling fan. “Especially with—”
“Don’t say it again, Candy—”
“Shane.” Candace grinned.
Nicki gave up, knowing that when Candace was on a roll, she was on a roll. “Sure. If I found myself in a dark room with Shane Carter and I had the chance, I’d do what any red-blooded girl would do. Satisfied?”
Her jittering pulse must’ve been obvious to anyone within sight.
“Adventurous,” Candace said, patting Nicki’s shoulder just before the band took the stage. “I like that.”
Then Candace started clapping and whooping, welcoming the players.
“Rock and roll!” Candace said over her bare shoulder, winking at Nicki while she left.
And there was no doubt she was going to have the time of her life as she sashayed toward the dance floor. After Candace whispered in the lead guitarist’s ear, he slid a grin to her.
Next thing Nicki knew, the band had ripped into a Def Leppard song and Candace was dancing in the middle of the floor, luring just about every male eye in the county.
Nicki took the opportunity to commune with her beer. Another sip, the coolness slipping down her throat, spreading warmth as she kept scanning the room. For a minute she forgot all about tomorrow’s meeting with the corporate rep and let her mind wander to what Candace had been talking about.
What would it be like to let herself go?
The more the music played, the more Nicki reveled in the corset pushing up her breasts, hugging her waist. The more she could imagine a man’s fingers undoing the lacings…
Fantasy.
It kicked in as she imagined a cowboy coming into a Western bar through the half-doors, the dusty street shadowed behind him, leaving him in tall, rugged silhouette as he stood in the entrance, finding her with his gaze.
A gaze that looked like Shane’s…always.
Her tummy flipped as she imagined the thud of his boots on the planked floor, the way his steps would slow as he approached her….
The song ended and everyone applauded, bringing Nicki back to rights.
She drank more beer, intending to put this fire out.
And that’s when she saw him.
An actual tall man sauntering into the room, a black cowboy hat set low over his brow, showing only a strong chin and full lips. An outlaw, from his long-sleeved shirt and his dark vest and jeans, to the silver-tipped black leather of his boots. Lean and mean. Just below his cocky grin, a kerchief bunched, as if he was ready to go out and rob a train, just like Jesse James.
Heat trailed from Nicki’s chest and downward, through her belly, spreading even lower than that as she felt a pitter-pat between her legs.
How would he react if she wandered away from the safety of the bar to get herself into his line of sight?
As the band took up an old standard—“Slow Ride”—the outlaw ambled toward a group of town girls dressed as Playboy bunnies and buxom cheerleaders. They welcomed him with smiles and giggles while he hooked his thumbs into his belt loops, as if they’d already met him.
Was he visiting someone in Pine Junction? Or was he a new ranch hand on one of the spreads and Nicki hadn’t seen him in town yet?
The corset pressed against her breasts, reminding her that they were more on display than she’d ever allowed before. But you know what? Her breasts did look pretty good, if she said so herself.
She watched the outlaw flash a hot-as-all-get-out smile to his harem of women. One of them stood on her tiptoes and stole his hat from his head, leaving his dirty-blond hair ruffled. His playful smile sent the contingent of fools into more laughter, and it did something foolish to Nicki, too.
A sharp ache settled in her sex, pounding.
He kept smiling, and something familiar knocked at her chest.
A reassuring smile she’d seen years and years ago, just before a boy had helped her to her feet, her body still smarting from the breath-jarring fall she’d taken from the fence.
The hero underneath the bad-boy reputation.
Shane Carter—and he was all man now.
As if he felt her watching him, he caught her gaze, sending that piercing heat between her legs to a twist of agony. When he tipped his hat to her, Nicki wondered if he recognized the cowgirl next door, or if all he saw was…
A saloon girl.
A sex goddess who was making him grin as he swept an appreciative glance over her.
When she turned back around to the bar, she almost dropped her beer. Her hands were shaking because of the adrenaline rush, the tremors in her belly.
She’d been, what, fifteen when he’d left? Then his father had passed on from that heart attack around the time her own parents had died, and Shane’s older brother, Tommy, had run the Slanted C. Supposedly, ever since then, Shane had been somewhere in the vicinity of Dallas, working on some cutting horse ranch.
But he was back now.
And, from the looks of it, he was painting the town red, just as she would’ve expected the rebellious son of the Slanted C to do.
Maybe connecting gazes with him had thrown Nicki for a loop, because her heart was beating like the drums in the wild country song that the band was now playing. Bang, bang, bang. She tried not to think about the breadth of his shoulders under that dark shirt, his waist tapering into lean hips, the long legs ending in those bad boy boots.
Then again, maybe his appeal was just in the costume. Maybe she was just thinking too much about those fantasies Candace had been talking about.
Nicki’s body pitter-patted again, demanding that she turn around to look at him one more time.
But when she heard a deep voice right behind her, she startled, surprise jabbing her all over.
“Look who’s all dressed up.”
A low, dark drawl.
When Nicki glanced over her shoulder, he was there, so close that she could see the stubble emerging on his cheeks and jawline and smell the lime of the shaving cream he must’ve used.
He was near enough that Nicki could also see the slight cleft in his chin, the dark blue of eyes that boasted lashes that had no right to be on a man.
Her stomach lifted and then somersaulted. A foreign feeling, like it’d never happened to her before. Or as if it’d never happened with this kind of force.
“You recognized me?” she asked loudly, over the music. Somehow, she sounded just like a saloon girl, a little too saucy, a lot interested.
“Sure I recognized you,” he said over the song.
Then, to her shock, he reached out, touched a curl that had sprung from her upswept hairdo. Near his fingers, the skin on her neck tingled, sending