Vicki Thompson: Cowboys Like Us

“I could, and I probably will look into a charitable cause, but I’m not much of an administrator. That doesn’t get me excited. Helping people, yeah, I’d like that. But the thought of being the one in charge gives me hives.” He hadn’t meant to discuss this, but talking to someone who had no vested interest in his future seemed to loosen his tongue.

“What a fascinating problem to have, deciding what to do with money and free time.” She walked over to the wall and put her hand on a bank of switches.

“I suppose it sounds lame to call that a problem.”

“Not if you’re used to being busy. Get ready. Bright lights.”

He blinked. In the glare from the overhead lights the mess looked even worse. “This would be more fun with the lights off.”

She glanced over her shoulder, a definite invitation in her eyes. “That’s true of a lot of things.”

He met her gaze. He knew that look, and instantly his cock responded. Okay then. “Oh, I don’t know. Sometimes I like to see what I’m doing.”

She turned back to him with a seductive smile. “Is that when you’re not very sure of yourself?”

“On the contrary.” Lust was quickly obliterating the memory of any warnings Josie had given him. “The more confident I am, the more light I want on the subject.” He paused. “How about you?”

She swallowed, and her cheeks grew pink. “Personally, I like to retain a little mystery.”

“That can be exciting, too.” He’d instinctively drifted closer. If he kissed her now, they wouldn’t get any cleaning done.

As if realizing the same thing, Caro cleared her throat and glanced away. “It’s getting late.” Pulling a plastic bin from under the counter, she lifted the hinged lid of the bar. “I’ll clear if you’ll wipe up after me.”

He followed her out through the opening and got a grip on the bin. “I’ll clear and you wipe up. You’re the brains of this operation. I’m just the muscle.”

Her laugh had a breathless quality that told him she was very aware of the sparks flying between them. She let him have the bin. “If that makes you happy, knock yourself out. I’ll get a damp towel. Just know that I can balance a full tray of drinks on one hand, so I’m no wimpy girl.”

“So you’re the brains and the muscle.” He loaded glasses, popcorn baskets and used napkins into the bin while she followed behind and wiped off the tables. “How am I supposed to impress a girl who has everything?”

“Those flaming drinks were pretty darned impressive. I know you don’t need a job, but I’ll bet Josie would love to hire you. Oh, wait. You might take my job, and unlike you, I need the money, so forget that idea.”

She’d just handed him a golden opportunity to ask why Josie had said she was off-limits. He cleared the last table and headed back toward the bar. “So how come you don’t have time to go riding these days?”

“My grandmother’s in assisted living, and whenever I’m not working, I visit her.”

“You mean, every day?” Logan thought of his two grandmothers, plus two grandfathers, all living back in Chicago. His folks and his younger brother, Jeff, lived there, too. He saw his grandparents maybe six or seven times a year. He didn’t see any of his relatives daily.

“Yes, I go every day. But I’m sure you don’t want to hear about this.”

“Yes, I do. Come back into the kitchen while I stack the dishwasher, and tell me about it.”

“It’s not all that interesting. You go on. I’ll start putting up the chairs.”

He rested the bin against the counter. “Why don’t you want to tell me?”

“Because it’s boring.” She picked up a chair and turned it upside down on a table, and followed that with another chair, and another.

“I don’t think so.”

“I do.” She stacked chairs in rapid succession. “I love my grandmother more than anyone in the world, but there are times when worrying about her is a real buzzkill.” She paused, her hand on the back of a chair. Then she turned to him with a stricken expression. “Did I just say that? I must be a horrible person to say something like that.”

He smiled gently. “Not a horrible person. Just a person who needs to get out more. And I don’t mean to the assisted living facility.”

She shook her head. “I can’t. She knows my schedule, and she expects me to come whenever I’m not working. I need to be there for her. I want to be there for her.”

“That’s pretty intense. Can’t you back off from that a little bit?”

“Eventually I hope to, once she’s back to her usual sunny self. These first few months have been rough on her. I had to move her out of her house and sell it to pay for this place, because she needs constant medical supervision. It was the only answer.”

Josie might be annoyed, but Logan thought of his next move as a good deed. “Didn’t Steve say he’d take your next shift?”

“He did, but he might not feel up to it.”

“Then again, he might. When is it?”

“Three to eleven, but he looked pretty sick to me.”

“If it’s food poisoning, he could be over it by tomorrow. And if he can take your shift, then you could go riding with me at the Last Chance. Your grandmother would never know.” He would explain to Josie that her best employee was about to blow a gasket if she didn’t get some recreation into her routine. Surely Josie would understand.

Caro hesitated. “I have to admit that sounds nice.”

“Of course it does. Taking a trail ride was your suggestion in the first place.”

“Josie and Jack have told me anytime I want to come out and ride, I’m more than welcome.”

“There you go.” His excitement grew as he imagined spending hours with her out on the trail. No doubt he’d end up saddle sore, but it would be worth it to watch her soaking up the sunshine and fresh air. And maybe a long trail ride could turn into a private little … But he didn’t want to get ahead of himself.

“Now I’m really hoping Steve recovers.”

“Me, too.” Logan was prepared to find another replacement if Steve was still on the disabled list. He’d plead Caro’s case to Josie and see what could be done. “Now let’s finish cleaning so you can go home and get some sleep.” He tossed that last part out on purpose, to see if she had any plan to linger around … with him.

“Okay.” She started stacking chairs on tables again. “Fortunately, I don’t have to go far. Josie’s renting me her old apartment upstairs.”

That info flashed in neon lights in his hormone-soaked brain. So her bedroom was right over their heads. “That’s convenient.” He picked up the bin full of glasses and headed into the kitchen.

As he loaded the commercial dishwasher, he fought with his conscience. He’d pictured some time alone, maybe a few kisses, some fondling. But her bedroom was right upstairs .

He probably shouldn’t go there, even if he could work it so nobody ever had to know but the two of them. Then again, she might have mentioned it on purpose, hoping he’d take the hint. She might not have time for a relationship, but was there anything wrong with some good old-fashioned sex?

He sighed. Josie had specifically requested that he put on the brakes, and he was considering flooring it. She was obviously protective of Caro, and Logan admired that. But should Josie be the one to decide what happened between Caro and him? Or should she be allowed to choose for herself?

So much hinged on Caro’s attitude. After spending several hours working with her, he saw her as upbeat and levelheaded, not the sort of woman who would expect one fun night together meant wedding bells.

He started the dishwasher and walked back out into the bar, where Caro wielded a push broom with gusto. The rapid motion made her breasts quiver under her red checked Western shirt. From her complete concentration, someone might conclude that the fate of the world rested on getting every last bit of debris off the floor.