“Okay, good. I’ve kept you from your friends long enough. Let me walk you back inside.”
“No, that’s not necessary.” She handed him back his coat. “Thanks anyway, but it’s a short walk. See you Saturday.”
She got out of his car, and he got out, too, and watched, his instincts telling him not to let her walk through the darkened parking lot by herself. And sure enough, when April was less than twenty feet away, a drunken cowboy approached her, blocking her passage, giving her grief and making crude suggestions. Her voice rose as she told the guy to back off, and then the cowboy began grabbing at her. Risk moved fast and was there in seconds, shoving the man’s shoulders, pushing him out of the way before he could lay a hand on April. “Buddy, get the hell outta here or you’re gonna be real sorry. Go sober up somewhere. Now.”
The man eyed Risk with contempt. Risk would be all too happy to nail the guy to the wall, but after a three-second staring contest, the cowboy stalked off.
Risk turned to April. She was shivering, this time in fear. He saw it in her eyes, too. “Are you okay?”
“I...will...be.”
He wrapped his arms loosely around her shoulders, bringing her into his warmth. “Come here a sec and calm down.”
“Thank...you.” She leaned against him, setting her head on his chest as if that’s exactly what she’d needed. “That was scary.”
“You handled yourself well.” He’d heard the tone of her voice, the gruff way she tried to warn the guy off. “You know, the Southern in me would never let a woman walk through a parking lot without seeing her safely inside, but then again, the female revolution has changed all that. I never know what to do.”
April pulled away from his chest to gaze up at him, the pretty blue of her eyes damn near mesmerizing. “You did good.”
He smiled, and she smiled, too, and something clicked in that moment, a spark that he hadn’t felt in a long time. He hadn’t met a woman who interested him in months, and now, suddenly, he was thinking about April that way. “I did?”
She gazed at his mouth and nodded. Was it an invitation? In that one second, Risk’s body twitched, and he tightened his hold on April. “You did,” she whispered.
He laid his palm on her cheek and felt her softness, witnessed the sweet look she was giving him. “April,” he said, right before leaning in to brush a soft kiss to her lips.
She moaned a little bit and gave in to the pleasure of his mouth. She tasted sweet and tangy, like a fruity drink, and he started remembering things about her that quickened his pulse.
Then out of the blue, April pulled away quickly, giving him a slight push on the chest. He backed off instantly. What in the world?
“Don’t.”
“Don’t? April, did I read you wrong?”
“I’ve had too much to drink tonight and I do appreciate you protecting me from that drunk, but yes, you read me wrong.”
She lifted up her left hand and wiggled her fingers right in front of his nose. “I’m engaged to be married, Risk.”
Normally Risk was good at reading women’s signals but the other night at the Farmhouse, April had had him fooled. He could’ve sworn she wanted his attention. She’d looked at him, then at his mouth, as if she’d wanted to be kissed. Had it just been fear? Had she been grateful he’d come on the scene in the parking lot when he had?
April was a beautiful woman with sass and spunk.
And she was engaged to be married.
He’d remembered the chubby little girl she’d been, and when he’d met her again in Houston after he’d guest hosted the rodeo, her curvy body and pretty blue eyes had drawn him in.
“Risk, you’re deep in thought this morning.” Aunt Lottie poured him a cup of coffee and set the mug down on the kitchen table in front of him. Ever since his aunt had returned to Rising Springs Ranch, she’d doted on him and his two brothers, Mason and Lucas. Having an adventurous spirit, Aunt Lottie had been a world traveler always ping-ponging in and out of their lives, but after the death of their parents, she’d taken a more vital role with the family. And now was like a mother to him and his brothers.
Risk brought the mug to his mouth and sipped. “No one would ever call me a deep thinker.”
Lottie took the chair adjacent to him, bringing her coffee to her lips and shaking her head. “You’re a fine thinker, boy.” Aunt Lottie was the first to come to a Boone’s defense, unless of course they deserved a tongue-lashing, and then she’d be the first one to give it. “But something’s bothering you. Your aunt knows you boys all too well.”
“Nothing’s bothering me, really. I’m just baffled about something.”
About April. He’d been drawn to her the other night, the same way he’d been drawn to her in Houston. And that was precisely why he hadn’t looked her up again. Why he hadn’t pursued her after that night. It had been selfish of him, but he hadn’t been in any shape to deal with a woman who wasn’t a one-night-stand kind of girl. She’d been smart and sincere and compassionate. Once he figured that out, he’d run like hell. Not his finest moment.
“Care to tell me her name?” Aunt Lottie asked.
“Ha, nice try, Aunt Lottie. But it’s all good.” He winked and gave her his best smile.
“How’s Drew doing these days?” he asked.
His aunt had an on-again, off-again relationship with Mason’s future father-in-law, Drew MacDonald. It seemed the two of them never could get on the same page.
“I wouldn’t know. He’s barely talking to me.”
“Oh yeah? Lovers’ spat?”
Drew lived in the cottage on the Boone property. He was a recovering alcoholic, a good man who’d lost his wife some years ago. Maria had been Lottie’s best friend, and now the two were playing a cat and mouse game of hearts.
“Hardly. We’re barely friends anymore, Risk.”
“Well, why don’t you take some of those warm cranberry muffins you just baked and bring them to him as a peace offering?”
Aunt Lottie’s blond brows lifted, and her eyes sparkled. She was a pretty sixtysomething woman who had a lot of love to give, and right now she was considering his suggestion. “You know, that’s not a bad idea. And while I’m at it, I’ll pack you a basket of muffins and some things for your trip.”
“Thanks. It’s a long drive out to Canyon Lake Lodge.”
“Just give me a moment,” his aunt said.
Minutes later, after finishing up his breakfast, he heard the front doorbell chime and the housekeeper answer it. He rose, taking the basket Aunt Lottie had made up, and walked out of the kitchen to the parlor where April Adams was waiting for him holding a brown briefcase. Those curly blond locks of hers flowed past her shoulders, and even the tan winter coat she wore over a pair of pants and a sweater couldn’t hide her curvy body.
“Mornin’, April. You’re right on time,” he said, coming into the room.
“I always try to be.” She hoisted her chin up.
“I’ll be right with you,” he said.
He grabbed his sheepskin jacket, the one he’d lent April the other night, and showed her to the multicar garage attached to the house.
In the garage, he opened the passenger side door to his full-size SUV. He’d insisted he