Sarah M. Anderson - His For One Night

Her big mistake was sitting less than thirty feet away. The one time she’d gone off schedule and done something just for herself—not for her career or her mother or anyone—and she’d been paying the price ever since. She loved her son, but...

She wasn’t ready. Not for Flash Lawrence.

Not for any of this.

The lights dimmed and an expectant hush fell over the crowd.

Well. The show had to go on, so Brooke did the only thing she could.

“It’s so good to be back, y’all. I’ve been working on new material for my next album—should be out in a few months—and we’re thinking of calling it Your Roots Are Showing .” The crowd laughed appreciatively as she flipped her hair back with an exaggerated toss of her head. “Aw, you guys are great.”

She desperately wanted to turn in her seat for this next part. If that was Flash, what would he think when he heard the song title? But she didn’t. She was giving him nothing to work with, and, besides, there was a literal audience here tonight. All it would take for the wildfire of gossip to catch and burn would be one too-long look, one touch, one wrong move, and her comeback would be forever tainted.

So she didn’t turn, didn’t even acknowledge that there was anyone behind her. She played to the people she could see when she said, “So the first song that’ll be on the new album that I want to sing tonight is called ‘One-Night Stand.’”

Two

God, she looked amazing.

Brooke Bonner wasn’t wearing the skintight crop top and leather miniskirt she’d had on the last time Flash had seen her. For this small crowd, she was wearing a black hippy-style skirt that came just below her knees and showed off her turquoise cowboy boots. A long sweater vest thing without sleeves was held in place over a deep-cut white shirt with the kind of studded belt that Flash’s sister Chloe sold for her Princess of the Rodeo clothing line.

Turquoise dripped off her ears and around her neck but—he had to lean to the side to see—her fingers were bare. He couldn’t tell for sure, but he didn’t think there was even a tan line for an engagement ring on her finger.

Thank God.

When she’d disappeared from the public eye a few months ago, Flash had been terrified to think she might have met someone, might have gotten married. If she had, he’d have had to walk out the Bluebird’s door without a look back. He wasn’t going to screw up a marriage. But no ring meant he settled in and ordered another ginger ale. He was here for the duration.

Had he ever seen a more beautiful woman? He’d met a lot of hot women and slept with his fair share of them, but there was something about the way Brooke was put together that drew his eye. He couldn’t look away, hadn’t been able to since the very first moment he’d seen her in Fort Worth. He’d kissed her hand and that had been that.

Brooke wasn’t wearing a hat tonight, so he could see the glory of her dark red hair as it flowed down her back in long waves. His fingers itched to bury themselves in that hair, wrap it around his fist like he’d done the last time, holding her head so he could kiss her again and again.

Apparently, absence really did make the heart grow fonder, because Flash was so glad to see Brooke right now that he wanted to sweep her into his arms and carry her far, far away from this crowded little place and show her how damned glad he was to see her.

He’d spent a year trying not to miss this woman. A year of trying to put the most intense sexual experience of his life out of his mind. He’d tried to pick up buckle bunnies since that night, but he hadn’t succeeded. Not once in thirteen months.

He was afraid Brooke Bonner had ruined him for any other woman.

And that would be a damn shame.

No way in hell he wanted to be tied down. Especially not this year, when the All-Around All-Stars Cowboy of the Year was in his sights. After a wreck of a year—mostly brought on by Flash’s own hot temper and alcohol-fueled brawls—he was back and ready to prove he wasn’t just a chip on his shoulder with a good right hook.

For too long, people had assumed that Flash only won the All-Stars because the Lawrence family owned the circuit, and he understood now that most of his fights had been about proving he wasn’t just a Lawrence, but that when it came to the rodeo, he was one of the best.

Getting suspended from the rodeo after that last fight—along with forfeiting his winnings up to that point—had been a blessing, although it sure hadn’t felt like it at the time, especially not with the busted jaw Flash had gotten brawling. But it’d forced him to come to grips with his temper and grow the hell up. Plus, it’d shown everyone the All-Stars wasn’t just a family business coddling the baby of the family. The rodeo family understood now that Flash had earned his place in the rankings.

This was his year and, for once, he wasn’t going to shoot himself in his own foot. That included this thing between him and Brooke.

He just wanted...well, he wanted another night with her, to see if there was still that same electric current between them.

Best case, they’d make an effort to meet up on the road a few times a year, whenever his rodeo was in town during her concerts. He wouldn’t say no to something like that. Not with her. He could focus on winning it all and she could focus on her career, and they’d get the chance to enjoy themselves during their downtime, like they had in Texas.

Then she announced the name of her first new song. “One-Night Stand.”

The tips of Flash’s ears went hot. That wasn’t about him, right?

Couldn’t be. It was the height of egotism to think that one night with him had left Brooke with anything other than a fond memory.

“Everyone should have one good night stand, don’t you think?” Brooke went on, and the crowd chuckled approvingly. Someone to his left wolf whistled. Flash didn’t see who, but he’d like to bust whoever it was in the jaw.

But the moment that thought crossed his mind, Flash clamped down on it. He was not going to lose his temper here. People were allowed to be jerks. He wasn’t responsible for teaching them the errors of their ways when they crossed the line. Throwing a punch to defend Brooke’s honor was something the old Flash would’ve done. The new-and-hopefully-improved Flash settled for glaring in the direction of the whistler.

Besides, causing a scene didn’t serve his goals. He wanted to get reacquainted with Brooke Bonner. He needed to find out if there was something worth chasing between them or if he just needed to man up and move on.

If he got lucky, then he’d get lucky. If not, well, he still had to win it all.

The All-Around All-Stars Rodeo was in Nashville this weekend and he’d been hoping to find a way to run into her. When she’d posted on social media she’d be at the Bluebird tonight, he’d driven like a bat out of hell to get to Tennessee five days early just to see her.

At the bare minimum, he needed to make things right between them. Starting a brawl less than two minutes into her set would pretty much guarantee he’d never get another shot. So he kept a lid on his temper and took another drink of his soda.

When the crowd settled down, Brooke leaned in close to the microphone and said, “I’m so glad to see so many people agree—it’s my favorite piece of furniture, too!”

Flash let out a slow breath, grinning in spite of his nerves. He’d loved her snarky sense of humor last year, too. She hadn’t fawned over him and he had done his best not to fawn over her. There’d been an...understanding between them, almost. And a woman with a sense of humor was surprisingly erotic.

Thank goodness that a year of superstardom hadn’t changed that about her.