Daire St. Denis - Wild Seduction

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” she bellowed and yet still managed to sound sultry in a way that only Brandi could with her practiced, husky voice.

People stopped talking and heads turned—or at least, every male head turned, like a flock of sheep.

Baaaaa.

“For those who are visiting, welcome back to Half Moon Creek. We’re so pleased you were able to come to the rodeo and fair this year and to celebrate Half Moon High’s Centennial Celebration. We’ll be kicking everything off Friday morning—Oh, my God! That’s tomorrow, already—with a parade followed by the rodeo and opening of the fair grounds. Don’t forget to pick up tickets for Saturday’s big formal banquet. Tickets are still available at the front desk and...”

“Sweetheart?” came a voice from her left. “A little help here. I’ve been waiting for fifteen minutes and...”

Ashley spun toward the deep voice. She turned up the volume on her smile when she saw who it was. Colton Cross. Figured. The cocky, bull-riding cowboy was exactly the kind of person who would think it was okay—no, not okay—he probably figured she’d be flattered by him calling her sweetheart.

“Well now, honey baby. What can I get for my sugar pie?”

“What?” Colton mouthed the words sugar pie with a look of confusion on his unfortunately handsome features.

“Oh. I’m sorry, sweetie, aren’t we on a ‘terms of endearment’ basis?”

“Umm...” Colton’s brows drew together so close they formed one line across his forehead. “Ahh...whatever you say, darlin’. Can I get two pints of Beaverhead draft and an order of nachos—”

“You did not,” Ashley said, leaning across the bar. This was exactly why she couldn’t wait to leave Half Moon. Macho rodeo jerks like Colton Cross.

“I did not, what?” He asked slowly.

She rolled her eyes. “Call me darlin’—”

Oomph.

Beth elbowed Ashley out of the way.

“Hey, Colt,” Ashley’s oldest sister said with a genuine smile, while inconspicuously giving Ashley a side kick to the butt. “Don’t mind my sister. She’s weird.”

“She’s your sister?” Colton said, looking back and forth between Beth and Ashley and then glancing over his shoulder at Brandi who was still on stage talking animatedly about some of the highlights of the weekend.

“There are two more of us hiding out around here, somewhere.” Beth gave a vague wave toward the kitchen. “Five Ozark girls in total.”

“Wow. I did not know you two were sisters.” He glanced at Ashley again, who was openly scowling at him because, seriously, the fact that Colton Cross had no idea who she was only confirmed her opinion of him: self-centered, chauvinistic, thickheaded...oh, she could go on. Egomaniac, cocky, disgustingly good-looking...

“Didn’t you two go to grade school together before you moved?” Beth asked.

“Yep.” Ashley said the word, short and clipped, giving him the coldest look she could muster. By the way he tilted his head to one side and then the other as he gave her a quick once over, she knew he had no recollection of her. Zip. No memory of Valentine’s Day in fifth grade when she’d gone and made him a special Valentine and he’d repaid her by spitting in her hair later that day in the playground. Didn’t matter that her family had known his family for years or that ever since he’d returned to Half Moon a few months ago to help his brother out at his guest ranch, he’d been the talk of the town. Well, the talk of the female population, anyway.

“Oh yeah,” Colton said slowly, covering up the fact he couldn’t place her. “Nice to see you again... Bren-da, right?”

Nice try, hotshot. “It’s Ashley.”

“Right. Now I remember.”

As if.

She poured the beer and slid the frosty glasses across the bar. “Tab?”

“Yes, please. Oh, and about those nachos...?”

She nodded and, without another word to him, rang in the order and then began serving the next customer in line.

“Try to be a little nicer,” Beth whispered in her ear.

“I am nice,” Ash said through clenched teeth.

“No, you’re ornery.”

“So?”

“So, the nicer you are, the more tips you make.” Her sister eyed her apparel and sighed. “It doesn’t hurt to flirt a little either, which would help because that outfit isn’t doing a thing for you.”

“Thanks. I appreciate the vote of confidence,” she muttered beneath her breath.

Once Beth turned her attention to the next customer, Ashley glanced down at her well-worn jeans and T-shirt with the slogan Well Behaved Women Seldom Make History. It was one of her favorites. Plus, it could be interpreted as flirty, couldn’t it?

“Boo!”

It took Ashley a few seconds to recognize the woman who had jumped into her line of sight. Not because she didn’t know her—she had been Ashley’s best friend for her entire high school life—only because she hadn’t seen her in five years, and Jasmine Sweet was the last person Ash expected to see tonight.

“Jazzy?”

Her friend waved her arms in the air. “In the flesh!” She squealed, hopped up onto the bar—which was a maneuver that did not jibe with the designer clothes she was wearing—slid across to the other side, hopped down and enveloped Ash in a bear hug, making Ash’s eyes water from the combination of the fierceness of the embrace and the floral perfume that floated around Jasmine like the sweet scent of honeysuckle on a summer’s eve. Or...like a cloud of gnats before a rainstorm.

Ashley patted Jasmine’s back until the woman finally let up, stepping back and smiling down at her, which was odd because she and Jasmine had always been the same height.

Short. Or, fun-sized, as Jasmine called the two of them.

“Look at you! You haven’t changed a bit,” Jasmine gushed.

Ashley was going to say, “Neither have you.” But it would have been a lie. Jasmine had changed since she’d managed to escape Half Moon a week after graduation. She’d always been beautiful, but now she looked different. She was sophisticated, with her expert makeup and hair pulled back in a chic ponytail. Ash realized the height difference was due to a pair of red, high-heeled shoes that perfectly matched Jasmine’s designer handbag. Her clothes were clearly expensive—tailored black capris and a sheer sleeveless top in white that accented her dark skin tone—simple and elegant while still being sexy.

She was the same old Jasmine, only improved—vastly—with age.

“You look amazing,” Ash said, wiping her suddenly sweaty palms on the front of her old jeans. “What are you doing back here?”

“What do you mean?” Jasmine’s dark eyes glowed with excitement as she glanced happily around the bar. “I’m here for the same reason everyone else is. To see old friends and to celebrate the centennial, Half Moon style!” Her laugh was infectious, as always.

“Wow.” That’s all Ash could come up with, still in a state of disbelief by Jasmine’s unexpected arrival.

“How long has it been?” Jazz asked before holding up a hand to stop Ash from answering. “No, wait, don’t tell me, it’ll only make me feel like a terrible friend.” She leaned close in order to whisper in her ear, “We have so much catching up to do.”

“Yeah,” Ashley murmured, smoothing her own haphazard ponytail, awkwardly.

“But first—” Jasmine took in the lineup of patrons waiting to be served “—you look like you could use a little help behind the bar.”

“Oh, no,” Ash protested, assessing Jasmine’s outfit and deeming it too put-together to be worn by a bartender in a busy saloon where it would undoubtedly get messed up. “Really, you don’t need to do that.”

“Did someone just offer assistance?” Beth sidled over, grinning broadly as she inserted herself between Ash and her friend.