She shook her head, held her breath. “Nope.”
Jeez. Of course he didn’t recognize her. Or really think they’d met before. It was a pickup line guys used all the time.
“You’re looking for a place to stay tonight,” he said. “Aren’t you?”
That stopped her again. “How do you know that?”
“The waitress.” His intense stare wasn’t helping her nerves, so she moved into the shadows. “I asked her.”
Sophie huffed a laugh. “And of course she told you, because...” She closed her mouth. Because of that damn sexy smile of his, that was why, but this was what Sophie wanted, to get him alone, so she’d better lose the attitude.
“Because she’s my buddy Matt’s sister-in-law,” he said, and glanced over his shoulder when the door opened and raucous laughter spilled out into the moonlit night. “Hey, how about we go someplace else? Get away from the bar.”
“Sure.” She tried not to seem too eager. Or irritated. Picking up a woman was this easy for a guy like Ethan. Just a look, a smile, and he was all set. She moved closer to him. The Boarding House Inn, where she knew he was staying, was within walking distance. “What did you have in mind?”
He looked both ways down Main Street. “How about the diner? Shouldn’t be too crowded.”
“The diner?”
“Is that all right? We can cross after this next truck.”
“Um, sure. I guess.”
Glancing at her, he asked, “You have somewhere else in mind?”
A diner? Okay, she was officially insulted. “I was thinking someplace more private,” she whispered, linking arms with him.
Surprise flashed across his face. His eyes found hers, then he lowered his gaze to her lips. “I’m Ethan.”
“I know who you are.”
“And you’re Sophie?”
So stupid. She nodded, promising herself that after this, she’d stick to her desk job. At least her name hadn’t triggered his memory. If he were to remember anything, it would probably be the pesky twerp who’d kept popping up in the weirdest places half his senior year.
The door to the bar opened again and they both turned. A tall brunette and her blonde sidekick walked out, scanning the groups of smokers.
The moment their gazes lit on Ethan, he tensed. “Let’s go,” he said, and draped his arm across the back of her shoulders. “Mind walking? It’s not far.”
“Fine.” She huddled close, soaking in the warmth of his body and trying to decide if it would be too much to slide her arm around his waist.
He walked at a fast clip, and with her shorter legs she had some trouble keeping up. “Sorry,” he said. “I’ll slow down.”
She saw her green Jeep parked at the curb just ahead, and two things flashed through her mind. She needed the handcuffs she’d left in her glove compartment, but she couldn’t stop for them because of her Wyoming plates. If he knew the Jeep was hers, he could easily put two and two together.
“Cold?” he asked, pulling her closer.
“What?” She realized she’d tensed. “A little.” Checking random plates, she saw a variety of out-of-state vehicles from Colorado, Utah, even an SUV from Wyoming. It was worth taking the chance. She really, really needed the cuffs. “Could we stop a minute?”
Ethan frowned and glanced back at the Watering Hole. “Am I still walking too fast?”
“No. We just passed my car and I wanted to grab my jacket.”
He started to follow her, but she shook her head while inching backward and digging for the key in her pocket.
“It’s kind of a mess,” she said, relieved that he only smiled and stayed put.
She unlocked the driver’s door. And kept an eye on him while she quickly transferred the handcuffs from the glove box to a deep pocket in the puffy down jacket she’d left on the passenger seat. Pausing, she considered scooping up her purse hidden on the floorboard.
Couldn’t hurt. She probably could use some lip gloss about now. Jeez. This is not a date.
The door was closed and locked, her purse in hand before she considered the incriminating ID and bail piece authorizing her to arrest him inside her bag. It didn’t matter, since she was going to do this thing quickly. Preferably the minute they were inside his room.
Instead of continuing to walk when she rejoined him, he studied her car. “I’ve always liked Jeeps. Looks new. Have you had it long?”
“I bought it last year.” She drew in a breath. He was staring at her plates.
“You from Wyoming?”
“Not originally, but I’ve lived there for a few years now.”
“What part?”
“Sheridan,” she lied, purposely choosing the farthest town from Wattsville that she could think of.
“I’m from outside Casper myself.” Either he was a very good actor or the Wyoming coincidence didn’t bother him.
“Really? We’re not exactly neighbors, but still...”
“Here, let me help you with your jacket.”
Sophie thought she heard the handcuffs clink and clutched the jacket to her chest. Giving him a come-hither smile, she said, “I’d rather have your arm around me.”
“Always happy to oblige a beautiful woman.” Ethan took her free hand and drew her close. The jacket served as an unwanted buffer. “You aren’t a rodeo fan, are you, Sophie?”
“Um, a little...”
He smiled. “It’s okay. My ego isn’t that fragile.”
“I know who you are. That should count for something.”
His puzzled frown sent up a warning flag. It lasted only a moment before the smile returned, and he started them walking again. “So you aren’t here for the rodeo.”
“No.” Wrong answer. She wasn’t sure why, but it felt wrong. She was missing something. “Well, yes, sort of. Does it matter?”
“I suppose not.” He checked for traffic and guided her across the street, his arm tightening around her shoulders.
The Boarding House Inn was just up ahead. They had another half a block to go and she hoped the men standing on the porch steps deep in conversation would hurry up and leave. If she did her job well, by tomorrow morning it would appear that Ethan Styles had disappeared into thin air. And she preferred not to be identified as the last person seen with him.
That was where the wig came in handy. As a blonde, she barely recognized herself.
Luckily the porch cleared just as they approached. The silence that had fallen between her and Ethan was beginning to feel awkward. She slanted him a glance and caught him watching her. The porch light shone in both of their faces and he stopped, right there, several feet from the steps. Turning to face her, he nudged up her chin and studied her mouth.
She held her breath, certain he was about to kiss her.
“I have one question,” he said. “Are you a reporter?”
“What? No.”
Something in her expression must have made him doubt her. His gaze narrowed, he seemed to be trying hard to remember...
“Why on earth would you think I’m a reporter?” It hit