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  “Thanks, Clay,” he muttered.

  She got the jeans down to his ankles and realized she hadn’t taken off his boots. She tugged them off, along with his socks, and then dropped his jeans to the floor. She took out his wallet and placed it on the nightstand.

  Lordy, lordy... A fully dressed Sawyer was sexy, but a nearly naked Sawyer wearing only a pair of black boxers and stretched out on her lavender sheets nearly stopped her heart.

  She turned out the overhead light, leaving only the illumination from a night-light plugged into an outlet next to the bed. She fully admitted that she’d lost her ever-lovin’ mind. But now she was fully committed to being temporarily insane.

  Carefully, she crawled into bed, not touching him in any way. He smelled good, like minty soap, a woodsy cologne and a hint of beer.

  Even though she wasn’t touching him, his body heat warmed her in a delicious way and she fought the impulse to lean into him.

  As she closed her eyes, she wished this was for real. She wished Sawyer Quincy was in her bed because he wanted to be, because he had chosen to be with her out of all the women in Bitterroot.

  * * *

  Consciousness came to Sawyer in bits and pieces. The first thing he noticed was that the sheets smelled like flowers. With his eyes still closed, he frowned, wondering how flowers had gotten into his bed.

  Of course it wouldn’t be the first time he’d awakened after a Saturday night of drinking to find something strange in his bed. The other men were real jokesters and in the past he’d awakened to discover he was sharing the bed with a salami sandwich, a dead fish, a prickly tumbleweed and his saddle, just to name a few.

  He cracked open an eyelid to the early morning sun drifting through a window...not his window. He’d never seen that window before with its frilly white curtains. Where in the hell was he? With both eyes wide open, the next thing he noted was that he was in a four-poster bed with purple sheets. His hat hung on one of the posters, as if it belonged there.

  He turned over and nearly jumped out of the bed. A woman...in the bed...with him... Who was she? She faced away from him and all he could see was short, thick, dark hair and creamy bare shoulders beneath hot-pink spaghetti straps.

  His shock forced a loud gasp from his throat. He remained frozen in surprise as the woman rolled over, shoved the hair away from her face and gave him a sleepy, sexy smile.

  “Good morning, lover,” she said.

  Lover... Janis? His brain short-circuited. Hell’s bells, what had he done last night?

  “Uh...good morning,” he managed to reply.

  He tensed as she snuggled up against him. Of their own volition, his arms went around her. Her silky nightgown was a poor barrier, as he could feel not only the heat of her breasts against him but also the hint of taut nipples.

  “Last night was the most wonderful night of my life,” she murmured into the hollow of his neck. “You’re the best, Sawyer. You made my whole body sing with pleasure.”

  “Yeah, uh, likewise.” As hard as he tried, he couldn’t remember what had happened between them that had gotten them here in her bed. The last thing he did remember was her serving him a third beer.

  His impulse was to grab his boots and britches and run like hell out the door. However, his mother had raised him better than that. But he definitely didn’t want to hang around and chat long enough for her to realize he had no memory of making her sing with pleasure. He’d always liked Janis and the last thing he’d want to do was to hurt her feelings.

  Despite his shock at the position he found himself in, his body began to respond to her closeness. Thankfully, at that moment, she rolled away from him and sat up. “How about I fix you a nice, big breakfast? You more than earned it after last night.”

  Had her eyes always been that inviting shade of caramel? Had her dark eyelashes always been so long? He’d never noticed before now. He quickly averted his gaze and looked around the room. There wasn’t much to look at and certainly no kitchen anywhere in sight.

  “You seem to be missing some important things...like a stove and a refrigerator.” He frantically continued to search his mind for any memory from the night before.

  He usually just passed out when he drank, but he had suffered a couple of blackouts in the past. Once he’d found himself sleeping in the pasture next to the pond after the other men had insisted they’d put him in his own bed. Another time he’d planted himself in Mac’s room and had sung all the country-western songs he’d ever known. The next day he’d had no memory of it.

  “I have all the equipment I need just outside that door,” she said. He knew she was referring to the bar’s kitchen.

  She scooted off the bed and Sawyer averted his gaze once again, but not before he caught a glimpse of long, shapely, bare legs beneath her hot-pink nightie.

  “I’ll be right back and we can talk about breakfast.” She disappeared through a door he assumed led to a bathroom.

  The minute the door closed behind her, he leaped out of bed. He searched frantically on the floor for his jeans and shirt. When he found them, he dressed as quickly as possible. No matter what had happened between them the night before, he wasn’t comfortable being nearly naked in her bed.

  He needed to get out...to get away and process the night he couldn’t remember. How did this change things? What were the consequences? It was obvious she was thrilled with whatever had occurred.

  You’re the best, Sawyer. You made my whole body sing with pleasure.

  Her words echoed in his brain as he pulled on his boots. At least she’d been pleased with his performance, he thought with a touch of pride.

  The pride didn’t last long. In truth, he was ashamed. He grabbed his wallet off the nightstand and opened it, frowning as he saw the condom he carried still in place. Oh, crap, they hadn’t even had protected sex.

  His mama would be rolling around in her grave knowing that he’d gotten drunk and taken some random woman to bed.

  Only, Janis wasn’t exactly random. He’d always found her pleasant and pretty. He’d just never thought of her that way before. Geez, what had he done?

  He grabbed his cell phone out of his jeans’ pocket and dialed the number for Clay. Clay had a reputation as a womanizer. He’d know what to do in this situation.

  He released a sigh of relief as Clay answered.

  “Come get me,” Sawyer said without preamble.

  Clay laughed. “What’s the matter, bro? Having a rough morning after?”

  “Just come and pick me up behind the bar.”

  Sawyer had just pocketed his cell phone when Janis stepped out of the bathroom. He swallowed hard. He’d thought she was in there getting dressed, but the only thing she had done was pull a short, silky robe over the sexy nightie.

  “Oh, you’re already dressed,” she said. “So I guess you don’t want breakfast in bed.”

  “Uh, no, but thanks anyway. I just called Clay to come and get me. I need to get back to the ranch.”

  “I would have taken you home,” she protested. “I can at least make you a cup of coffee before you go.” She smiled at him and motioned to a small table that held one of those fancy coffeemakers that gave up a cup of coffee in seconds. Next to the machine were a couple of cups, a sugar bowl and several little creamers.

  “That would be nice,” he agreed and sat on the very edge of the bed. He just hoped she didn’t want to chew over the details about the night before.

  As she put the little pod into place, he couldn’t help but notice her sexy long legs. This was a Janis he didn’t know. She was so far removed from the efficient, jeans-clad woman who served him drinks on Saturday nights.

  And apparently he’d made love with her last night.

  He needed to get out of there and have some time to process everything. It was hard to think with her in the same small room, looking so soft and gorgeo
us and smelling like fresh flowers.

  “Cream or sugar?” she asked once the coffee machine had whooshed the last of the liquid into the cup.

  “No, thanks. Black is fine,” he replied as he took the cup from her.

  She made herself a cup and sat on the opposite side of the bed. “You know, Sawyer, I’ve had a crush on you for a long time. I’m so glad last night you let me know you felt the same way about me.”

  He had? Some of the other guys had teased him about having a crush on Janis, but that was just because he’d mentioned in passing a couple of times that he thought she was pretty.

  “Yeah, me, too,” he replied because he didn’t know what else to say.

  “So, when will I see you again?”

  “Uh, maybe we could have dinner at the café some time,” he replied and then nervously took a sip of coffee.

  “The bar is closed tonight, so I’m free.”

  Oh, her eyes held almost as much heat as the cup in his hand. “Okay. Then how about I pick you up around six?”

  “That would be perfect,” she replied with a smile.

  A horn honked from outside and he jumped up so fast from the bed he sloshed some of the coffee onto his fingers. “That will be Clay.”

  She took his cup from him and set both his and hers on the little table. Together, they walked over to the door that led outside.

  She opened it and then she was in his arms, her face raised for a kiss. He didn’t deny her. He wrapped his arms around her and lowered his mouth to hers. Her lips were invitingly soft and hot. Instantly, a fire of hunger leaped into his veins.

  He couldn’t believe that he had no memories of kissing her last night. Before he followed through on his desire to deepen the kiss, he dropped his arms and stepped back. “I’ll see you at six tonight,” he said.

  “I’ll be waiting,” she replied.

  Sawyer practically ran for Clay’s truck. He got in on the passenger side and turned to the blond-haired driver. “Clay, you’ve got to help me out, man. I guess I did something crazy last night and I don’t remember it and now I’m in way over my head.”

  Clay released a dry chuckle. “Welcome to the world of drunk adulting.”

  Chapter 2

  Janis couldn’t help the bouts of laughter that overtook her throughout the course of the day. Each time she thought of the stunned look on Sawyer’s face when he’d first awakened, she got the giggles.

  His copper-colored eyes had radiated a quiet panic as he’d maneuvered the morning conversation in a way for her not to know he had no memory of them having sex.

  Of course he had no memory. Absolutely nothing had happened between them. He had slept soundly through the night while sleep had remained elusive for her because she’d been so acutely aware of him next to her in the bed.

  His scent had surrounded her and she’d tried to match her breathing to his. She’d wondered what it would really be like to make love with him.

  What she’d done to him was wrong on so many levels, but, if given the same opportunity, she would do it again. What if another woman had gotten him to go home with her while he’d been blindly drunk?

  It would be easy to lift his wallet or to make him believe he was a baby daddy or to kill him when he was in that kind of condition.

  No hint of laughter left her lips as she thought of all the bad things that could happen to him. He was lucky his fellow cowboys babysat him when he passed out. But he was a grown man and shouldn’t have to rely on the kindness of others to see him home safe and sound.

  She’d tell him the truth tonight over dinner. She had no idea how he would react. It was possible her little ploy would make him so angry he’d never speak to her again. Hopefully, he’d take it all in good humor and see that the intent behind it was good and she’d meant him no harm.

  Still, her heart raced as she dressed for the evening out. Was it beating more frantically because she didn’t know what to expect from him when she told him the truth? Or was the quickened rhythm because she was finally going to spend some quality time with the man she’d had an interest in for so long?

  Dinner at the café wasn’t exactly a formal affair, so she pulled on a pair of jeans and topped them with a coral-colored sweater she knew complemented her chin-length brown hair and brown eyes.

  At five to six that evening she stood at the window next to the door with her coat in hand. March had definitely roared in like a lion, hanging on to the cold and blustery winds of winter.

  She was ready for spring, with warm breezes and the scent of new grass and flowers in the air. A smile touched her lips as a memory of her father jumped into her mind.

  Her father had loved spring, too. One day, when she was about ten years old, he’d pulled her out of the house and onto the front lawn. Together they had stretched out on the ground. “Listen,” he’d said.

  “What am I listening to?” she’d asked.

  “The earth’s heartbeat,” he’d replied. “Sometimes it’s just nice to be quiet and listen.”

  A sharp pain of grief pierced through her heart. Her dad had died of a heart attack when Janis was sixteen. That was the day every ounce of love had been taken from Janis’s world.

  The pain was vanquished by the sight of Sawyer’s truck pulling into the small parking lot.

  Her heart began to beat with the anticipation and excitement of the evening to come in his company.

  Before he could get out of the truck, she pulled on her coat and stepped outside the door. She ran to the passenger door and got in.

  “Hi,” she greeted cheerfully.

  “Hi, yourself,” he replied. “You know, I would have walked up to your door to get you like a proper gentleman if you hadn’t run out so quickly.” He pulled out of the parking area behind the bar and onto Main Street.

  “There was no reason for you to get out in the cold,” she replied. The interior of the truck smelled pleasant and masculine, with hints of rich leather and his woodsy cologne.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked.

  “I’m starving. What about you?”

  “I can always eat, but tonight was a good night to head to the café instead of eating at the ranch. Cookie made meatloaf and I’m not particularly partial to it.”

  “What’s your favorite meal?”

  She noted how his stiff shoulders began to relax as the conversation remained light and easy. The poor man was probably afraid she was going to bring up last night. She didn’t intend to even mention it until the end of this night when she’d tell him the truth.

  “As far as I’m concerned, there’s nothing better than a big, juicy cheeseburger. What about you?”

  “French fries. I like them plain or smothered with cheese or covered with chili.”

  He laughed and flashed her a quick glance. “That’s not a real meal.”

  “Bet me,” she replied, making him laugh once again.

  By that time they’d arrived at the Bitterroot Café. Sundays, the place was usually packed at lunchtime, after church services let out. But on Sunday evenings there were not too many diners.

  Janis was glad. It would make conversation easier. She knew she was intensely physically attracted to Sawyer, but she also recognized that she didn’t know that much about him. By the end of this meal, her attraction to him just might be dead.

  Amanda Wright greeted them as they walked in. A month ago, she’d bought the café from Daisy Martin, a fiery redhead who had owned it for as long as anyone could remember.

  Janis knew that wasn’t the only change that had occurred in Mandy’s life. A month and a half ago, after a whirlwind romance, she and Brody Booth had run off to Las Vegas and gotten married.

  “Lately it seems like weddings are in the air in Bitterroot,” Janis said once they were seated in a booth and had shrugged out of their coats.

  Sawye
r’s gaze turned wary and she couldn’t help but laugh. “Don’t worry, Sawyer, shotgun weddings went out of style a long time ago. Besides, I don’t have a big brother or a daddy to come after you.”

  He visibly relaxed. “But isn’t June Little, who works at the mercantile, your mother?”

  It was Janis’s turn to stiffen slightly. “She is, but I don’t have any kind of a relationship with her right now.”

  “That’s a shame,” he replied.

  Before the conversation could go any further, Carlie Martin appeared to take their orders.

  “How’s it going, Carlie?” Janis asked the pretty blond waitress.

  “It’s going,” she replied. “We had a hellacious crowd in for lunch but, thankfully, it’s been a fairly slow night, so we’ve all managed to catch our breaths.”

  After a little more small talk, Sawyer ordered a burger and fries. Janis opted for a chicken and bacon wrap, a new item on the menu, and a side of fries.

  “Tell me why you don’t have a relationship with your mother?” he asked once Carlie had left the booth.

  “Oh, it’s a long, boring story. I’d much rather hear about you,” she replied. “Through the years I’ve heard so many rumors about all you men on the Holiday Ranch.”

  He grinned. “Probably at least half of them aren’t true.”

  She could listen to the sound of his deep laughter forever. “So, you weren’t all found under lily pads in Big Cass’s pond.” She’d wanted him to laugh again and she was successful.

  “No,” he replied, a sparkle of humor in his eyes. “And we weren’t all brought in from a reform school when we were kids. But we were all runaways or throwaways who took to the streets when we were young.”

  “And which one were you? A runaway or a throwaway?”

  “A runaway,” he replied.

  “Why?” These were the kinds of things she wanted to know. Who he was as a man, where he’d come from, and what forces might be at play in his life that made him drink himself into a stupor on most Saturday nights when he came into the bar.

  He looked so sexy tonight in his jeans and a rust-colored shirt that matched his slightly unruly hair and stretched across his broad shoulders.