Better to go with plan B.
Deanie unfastened her seat belt and pushed to her feet.
2
WHEN IT CAME TO WOMEN, Rance McGraw had never been a man to turn tail and run the other way.
He liked women. Hell, he loved ’em and he wasn’t the least bit shy about it.
He loved the silky feel of a woman’s hair trailing between his fingers. The softness of her skin against his lips during a deep, hot kiss. The rasp of her nails up and down his back as he plunged deep inside her body. The soft, sweet, breathless sound of her voice as she begged for more…
Yep, he loved women, all right. As thoroughly and as often as possible. And they loved him.
Deanie Codge, in particular.
She’d been head over heels for him since the day he’d paired up with her brother, Clay, for the annual steer wrestling competition.
Rance had been eight years old when he’d gone home with Clay to practice. Deanie had been four, and hell-bent on joining in the wrestling match. When Clay had captured her in a headlock to teach her a lesson and force her to leave them alone, Rance had gone to her rescue.
It was the biggest mistake of his life.
Free of her brother’s hold, Deanie had stared up at him with wide, adoring blue eyes, and the damage had been done. She’d followed him around from then on, clear up until the night he’d graduated high school and left for college.
A vision pulled him back and he saw her standing on the grassy bank of McGraw River, her long, dark hair hanging down around her shoulders, her pale, naked body shimmering in the moonlight.
He didn’t remember much about that night except that he’d started out at Dorie Jackson’s graduation party with his buddies and a keg of beer. He wasn’t sure exactly how he made it out to the creek or what happened to the dozen or so guys he’d been party-hopping with. The evening was just a blur up until that moment when he found himself alone on the riverbank with Deanie.
His senses had sharpened then and he’d drank in the sight of her, from the faint stirring of her hair to the goose bumps that had chased up and down her pale arms, to the pucker of her ripe, rosy nipples. He’d heard the slight gurgle of water where it fed from the underground spring, the buzz of crickets and the thunder of his own heartbeat. He’d smelled the vanilla and sugar scent of her Sweet Honesty perfume. He’d tasted the surprise on his own tongue and he’d felt the sharp tightening of his groin.
That had been the first time he’d ever seen her naked. And the last.
Hell, that had been the last time he’d seen her, period. He’d been back in Romeo only a handful of times over the past sixteen years and he’d always made it his business to steer clear of Deanie Codge.
He’d succeeded up until a few months ago when he’d come face-to-face with her at the double wedding of his older brothers, Josh and Mason. Rance was the third and youngest of the McGraw triplets, and the only remaining bachelor. A title he intended to keep for as long as possible. His living-on-the-edge lifestyle wasn’t conducive to a long-term relationship and so he’d avoided them.
Much the same way he’d avoided Deanie.
She’d caught up with him, however, and confirmed what he’d started to suspect months before, when he’d come home to mend after breaking his leg en route to an alligator wrestling competition in Australia. Namely that she no longer carried a torch for him.
As owner and spokesperson for Extreme Dream, the South’s largest chain of extreme sporting goods stores, Rance competed in everything from snowboarding to offtrack dirt bikes. He’d skiied down the Riviera, base-jumped off the Empire State Building and parasailed over piranha-infested waters off the coast of Thailand.
Scary stuff, but not half as frightening as meeting up with Deanie, and so Rance had kept his return a secret from any and everyone.
At least he’d tried.
But then a sudden craving for something sweet had forced him to make a midnight run to the local diner. Word had traveled in the time it had taken to eat one slice of Miss Mona’s unforgettable cherry pie and he’d been screwed.
Or so he’d thought.
But in the days that had followed, Deanie had made no attempt to contact him.
Until the wedding.
She’d spotted him and he’d spotted her. They’d exchanged the usual pleasantries. And then…
Nada.
No stealing glances at him during the ceremony. No bugging him to dance at the reception. No following him home with his favorite pepperoni and jalapeno pizza. No showing up on his doorstep with his favorite silver dollar blueberry pancakes the next morning. No inviting him to the local Friday night football game or Saturday bingo or Sunday morning church.
That had been a week ago. The longest week of his life. He hadn’t slept. He’d barely eaten. He’d spent his time thinking. Worrying. Wondering. What the hell had happened?
Suddenly, his gaze collided with a pair of sizzling blue eyes fringed in dark black lashes. Her eyebrows were drawn together, her full, pink lips pulled into a tight frown. Her shoulders were rigid, her movements stiff as she sidestepped in front of the seat next to her and stepped purposely into the aisle.
She looked ready to explode, and not in an orgasmically good way.
That’s it, buddy. She’s over you. And once she gets in touch with her sexuality at Camp E.D.E.N., she’ll be on to bigger and better things and she’ll really be over you.
His gut tightened and it took all of his effort to keep the smile on his face from hardening into a frown. So she wasn’t tagging along after him like she used to? It didn’t mean she wasn’t still wildly attracted to him.
She still wanted him, all right.
He knew it. He felt it.
Even if she was doing a damned fine job of hiding it.
Remember your objective—intercept and turnaround.
While Deanie had every right to lead her own life the way she saw fit, her older brothers felt differently, particularly Rance’s longtime friend and best bud, Clay. The man was frantic. Not because his baby sister couldn’t make her own decisions and switch jobs, or even cities, if she felt like it.
But enrolling in a sex camp?
Clay had been ready to follow her himself, despite the fact that he was going to be a father any minute. But then Rance had shown up and volunteered for the job.
“You don’t have time for this.”
He could still hear Shank Murphy when Rance had dialed him up en route to the airport. Shank was the chief marketing director for Extreme Dream and Rance’s business partner. He’d had a fit when Rance had told him that he wouldn’t be flying back to Austin today because he had to do a favor for an old friend.
“You have to come back today. You’ve got to pick up your gear and catch a plane tomorrow in order to make personal appearances for the upcoming competition.”
“Pack and ship my gear and I’ll pick it up when I get there.”
“Tomorrow. You have to leave tomorrow. I don’t care where you are or what you’re doing.”
“I’ll be there.”
Which meant he had twenty-four hours to talk some sense into one very stubborn Deanie Codge.
He’d wanted to sling her over his shoulder and haul her off the plane the moment he’d set eyes on her, but that would have just made