Linda Goodnight - The Least Likely Groom

“Call Kati. She can bring him out here when she comes home and you can stay and entertain me a while longer.”

“I can’t ask Kati to do that.”

“I can. Hand me the phone.”

“No. I have to go.” She gathered up her tote and started talking about the PT machine again, giving him some last-minute instructions, reminding him to ice pack the incision after therapy. She seemed intent on regaining her professional footing.

“Hey,” he called when she opened the door and moved to leave.

She turned.

He gave her what he hoped was his sexiest grin. “Thanks for the dance.”

She responded with a look he couldn’t begin to interpret, then closed the door behind her.

Jett flopped back into the chair, disappointed, the incessant hum of the machine annoying him.

What was happening here? He hadn’t asked the woman to marry him. Heaven forbid. He’d only wanted a little diversion until he could get the heck out of Dodge.

Since when had any female ever walked out on Jett Garrett?

Man. He must be losing it.

“Chair dancing!” Teeth gritted, Becka thumped her forehead against the steering wheel. During the time she’d been inside the Garrett Ranch, the Texas sun had filled her on-the-road-again car with enough hot air to launch a balloon festival, but it was those few minutes of up-close-and-personal with Jett Garrett that had her in a sweat.

Less than an hour in the magnetic cowboy’s presence and she’d lost all sense of decorum, behaving in an un-characteristically unprofessional manner. What had come over her?

But she knew. The carefully sublimated side of herself that she worked so hard to control had leaped to the fore at the first opportunity. In fact, her blood still hummed, and pleasure still tingled her nerve endings. Jett had tapped into the reckless nature she wanted so much to destroy.

She’d intended to stay longer, to see that Jett tolerated the PT machine well and to observe for swelling but as soon as the music ended, she’d realized what was happening and knew she had to escape. She couldn’t do this again. She’d have to find an excuse not to come back here. Jett was too dangerous. She couldn’t take a chance at letting her own rash nature resurface.

But how? What excuse could she use? And what would she do without the money this job would provide?

“Ma’am,” a deep voice said right next to her ear. Stewing over the concern, Becka hadn’t heard the approaching footsteps.

She nearly jumped out of her skin. Raising her head from the steering wheel, she saw Jett’s brother, Colt, peering in through her window.

“You all right?”

Quickly she rolled down the window, nodding. “Yes, of course.” Like an idiot she was roasting alive in her own car, too caught up in her emotional response to Jett to even realize how hot she was.

Thinking fast, she said, “I was about to check the water in my radiator before I leave. Sometimes my car overheats.”

She pulled on the door handle, waited for Colt to step back and then exited the car.

“I keep a five-gallon container of water in the back just in case.”

Colt raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment on that. “I’ll check it for you.”

Becka watched the tall cowboy pop the hood on her car and go through the motions of examining the water content. He was definitely Jett’s brother, with his dark good looks, but where Jett was flip and carefree, Colt was more serious, having little to say.

While Becka stood by in the Texas heat, Colt added water to the radiator, replaced the cap, then slammed the hood.

Wiping his hands down the sides of his jeans, he turned to where she leaned against the battered fender of her ancient car. “My brother giving you any problem?”

Becka tried not to blush, but the heat rose in her face anyway. “No. Not at all.”

“I want Jett to have the best care, whatever it costs.” Colt studied her. “If he needs you here longer, I’d like you to stay. I’ll pay extra if necessary.”

Becka stiffened. Was he questioning her ability to do a professional job? A twinge of guilt shifted over her. Hadn’t she just questioned that very thing? From the inappropriate way she’d reacted to Jett Garrett, she couldn’t trust herself. Why should anyone else trust her? But she couldn’t admit that to Colt.

“You can rest assured that I will give your brother the best of care, but I have to get back into town before six to pick up my son.”

Colt stepped around her to replace the water container in her back seat. “Doesn’t Kati keep your little boy?”

“Yes. And she’s wonderful with him.”

That made him smile. “Yeah. Kati’s something.”

Those few words coupled with the twinkle in his eye told her that the tough cowboy wasn’t so tough when it came to his wife.

“Even a dedicated woman such as Kati likes to close up shop and come home at the end of a long day.” Becka wrenched open the car door and slid inside, ready to leave. “It would be unfair of me to ask her to keep Dylan any longer.”

“You can bring him out here with you if you’d like. Then you won’t need to hurry off.”

Becka’s pulse set up another drum beat. Great. Just what she didn’t need. An excuse to stay longer in the presence of Jett Garrett when she was already searching for a way out of the entire commitment.

“Actually, it’s such a long way out here, I was thinking this may not work out for me.”

“You tell Jett that?”

“Not yet.”

“Don’t.” He leaned down into the window. “My brother has his heart set on making the NFR this year. I think he’s crazy, but if he wants it, I want him to have it. He’s getting on in years for a bull rider.”

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