All that fit with what Luke had sensed about her from the beginning. “So I guess she’s a modern woman who doesn’t need a man around to protect her.”
Emmett didn’t answer right away. “If you mean that she doesn’t need a man to physically protect her, that’s probably right,” he said at last. “She took karate when she was still in high school, and she could flip me onto my back if she wanted to.”
Luke thought about that. “Good to know.”
“And she takes other precautions. She has bear spray, and she makes sure her food is stowed. Naomi has a better chance of surviving out there by herself than some men I’ve known. But…”
“But?” Luke waited for the other shoe to drop.
“I could be way off base, but I don’t think she’s a true loner. I think she’d love to find somebody to share her life, as long as it was the right somebody.”
“Hmm.” Well, that sealed his fate. He couldn’t mess around with a woman like that. If Naomi yearned for someone steady in her life, he’d back off. His free-spirited father had tied himself to a job, a wife and a mortgage. He obviously regretted his choices. Luke had inherited that same free spirit, and he had no intention of repeating his dad’s mistakes.
“Then again, how should I know what’s in Naomi’s heart?” Emmett said. “I’m the last person who should give out opinions on such things. I’m a divorced man in love with a wonderful woman, but the idea of marrying her scares me shitless.”
“That’s not so hard to understand, Emmett. Pam Mulholland has big bucks and you’re a man of modest means. I watched my buddy Nash fall into the trap of marrying a woman who had a pile of money, and it was a disaster.” Luke paused. “Then again, he’s now planning to marry Bethany Grace, who also has a pile of money, and I think it’ll be fine.”
Emmett sighed. “So it all depends on the woman. And I know in my heart that Pam wouldn’t let the money be a problem, but my damned pride is at stake. I can’t seem to overcome my basic reluctance to marry a wealthy woman when I’m certainly not wealthy myself. I’m afraid I’ll feel like a gigolo.”
Luke dipped his head to hide a smile. The interior of the truck was dim. Still, he didn’t want to take the slightest chance that Emmett would see that smile. But if Emmett Sterling, the quintessential rugged cowboy, could label himself a gigolo, the world had turned completely upside down.
NAOMI HAD MEANT to spend one more night out at the research site before hiking back to Shoshone for supplies and clean clothes. But the visit from Luke had thrown her off balance. She decided to take her break that very afternoon.
After clearing her platform of everything except the webcam and securing her campsite, she hoisted her backpack and made the trek into town. A night sleeping in her childhood bed at her parents’ house would be a welcome luxury.
Her folks were thrilled to see her, as always, but business was brisk at the Shoshone Diner and they didn’t have much time to chat. She’d anticipated that. At one time the diner served only breakfast and lunch, but recently they’d added a dinner menu.
Prior to that, the Spirits and Spurs had been the only place in town that served an evening meal. But as the tourist business had grown and the wait time for a table at the Spirits and Spurs had become ridiculous, Naomi’s parents had decided to expand their offerings.
It had paid off for them. They’d hired extra help because Naomi wasn’t there to waitress anymore, and both women were capable and had a set routine. If Naomi hung around the diner tonight, she’d only get in everybody’s way.
So she ate the meat loaf her mother insisted on feeding her, went home for a quick shower and a change of clothes, and walked over to the Spirits and Spurs. On the way, she thought of Luke, who quite likely wouldn’t be there on a weeknight. Ranch hands generally came into town on the weekend.
As she walked toward the intersection where the bar was located, she remembered the foolishly grand entrance she’d envisioned making in her tight jeans and revealing blouse. Instead she’d pulled on her comfort outfit—faded jeans and a soft knit top in her favorite shade of red. Nothing about her appearance tonight was calculated to turn heads.
Ah, well. She’d scrapped her plan to knock Luke back on his heels and make him her slave. Luke didn’t intend to be any woman’s slave. He was a love-’em-and-leave-’em kind of cowboy.
She’d never met a man who’d laid it out so clearly. At first she’d been appalled by the concept of a relationship based mostly on sex, with some interesting conversations thrown in, a relationship with an expiration date stamped plainly on the package.
She laughed to herself. And what a package it was, too. That was part of her dilemma. She wanted that package, even if she could enjoy it for only a limited time.
Music from the Spirits and Spurs beckoned her as she approached. During tourist season the bar had a live band every night, and Naomi loved to dance. She wouldn’t mind kicking up her heels a little if anyone inside the bar felt like getting out on the floor. She could do with a little fun.
Maybe that was how she should view Luke’s suggestion, too. She’d never seen herself as the kind of woman who would have a casual fling, but maybe she was needlessly limiting herself. She might be back in her hometown, but she wasn’t a kid anymore. She had the right to make adult decisions. Very adult. A sensual zing heated her blood.
If the thought of parading her behavior in front of her parents bothered her at all, and she admitted that it did, they wouldn’t have to know. She was living out in the woods, away from prying eyes. Luke might have to explain his behavior if he made regular visits to her campsite, but she’d let him worry about that.
As she pushed open the door to the Spirits and Spurs, the familiar scent of beer and smoke greeted her. This bar might end up being the last place in the entire world to ban smoking. Even if they did, the place was supposed to be haunted by the ghosts of cowboys and prospectors who’d tipped a few in this building a century ago. No doubt they’d bring the aroma of tobacco with them.
The band started playing a recent Alan Jackson hit she happened to like. Couples filled the small dance floor. The place was jumping, with most of the round wooden tables occupied and very few vacant seats at the bar.
Coming here had been a good idea. She watched the dancers and tapped her foot in time to the music. She’d have a beer and dance if she found a willing partner. Then tomorrow, or whenever Luke came back for his answer, she’d tell him not only yes but hell, yes. Look out, world. Naomi Perkins was ready to cut loose.
“Naomi?”
The rich baritone made her whirl in its direction. She’d last heard that voice after being kissed senseless twenty feet above the ground. She found herself staring into Luke Griffin’s brown-eyed gaze. Her heart launched into overdrive.
They spoke in unison. “What are you doing here?”
“You first.” Luke tilted back his hat and stared at her. “You’re the big surprise. I thought you’d be curled up in your blue dome tent fast asleep.”
She fought the urge to grab his shirtfront in both hands and pull him into another kiss, one even more potent than what they’d shared earlier today. “I’m staying with my folks in town. And how do you know I have a blue dome tent?”
“I checked it out before I left.”
“For future reference?”
“No. In fact, that’s why I hotfooted it over here. I—” He gestured toward the band. “Love that song, but I don’t want to have to yell over it. Can we move outside for a minute?”