“I’ve never ordered sandwiches in. He always goes out for lunch.”

  Maryann frowned. “Are you sure? You must have forgotten that one time. Or maybe you were out sick and someone else was there filling in that day.”

  “No, miss. Haven’t been sick a day in the past year. And I’m quite sure. He goes out the same time every day for lunch. He tells me to hold all calls and tell anyone who asks that he’s unavailable. He’s very adamant about what I say to callers and never deviates from that schedule. He’s gone for exactly two hours each day.”

  Maryann’s pulse pounded, making her head swim. How many times had she asked Robert to have lunch with her, only to be told he had a working meeting in the office and was ordering sandwiches in. Where exactly was he for two hours every day? She knew one thing, if she weren’t an ocean away, she’d be finding out, even if she had to hide outside his office and follow him to find out.

  How could he betray her like this? Why would he? He could just break up with her if he wanted to be with someone else. They didn’t have a child or even own a house together. They had a crappy one-bedroom flat. He could leave at any time. It didn’t make sense. “Is there any chance he’s taking meetings with clients off-site during those two-hour lunches each day?”

  “No, I don’t think so. He tells me to leave his schedule open and not book anyone during that time. I assumed he was exercising during lunch. He comes back with his hair wet as if he was freshly showered from the gym.”

  Oh, Maryann bet Robert was exercising, but it wasn’t at a gym. He still had the same paunchy belly he always had. More likely he was spending lunchtime on top of some woman somewhere, not on an exercise bicycle. At least Maryann knew it wasn’t with his secretary since she was proving to be quite a good source of information. Poor young thing didn’t even realize she’d probably just exposed the biggest secret Robert had ever had.

  “You know what, I think you’re right and he must be exercising. Let’s not tell him we had this conversation, shall we. I bet he’s trying to surprise me by getting in shape for our wedding. I don’t want to ruin it.”

  “Oh, how romantic. I won’t say a word.”

  “Thanks so much. Cheers.”

  “Cheers.”

  Maryann pushed the disconnect button and sat, shaking in her seat at the Atlanta airport gate mid-way between London and Texas. There wasn’t much she could do about her current situation or suspicions. She was in a foreign country all alone and fairly certain the man she’d hoped to marry was running around with someone else.

  Curling into a ball on the floor and crying came to mind. So did turning around, getting on the next flight back to London and confronting Robert.

  No, she was too strong to break down over one lying, sorry excuse for a man. And she wasn’t about to give up this trip she’d looked so forward to. No, she had no definite proof yet he was cheating, but Maryann wasn’t sure that mattered at this point. She’d been having doubts about her future with Robert even before learning he’d been lying to her on a regular basis.

  Drawing in a shaky breath, Maryann tried to think. There was really nothing else to do right now besides think. She had another few hours before she arrived in Texas where she’d have to put on a brave face for her new friend.

  How foolish she’d been, easily compromising herself and giving in to Robert on things that were important to her.

  She’d wanted to get married right after they’d gotten engaged. He’d wanted an indefinite engagement. They finally compromised and agreed to move in together. His hesitation made total sense now. She’d always dreamed of a house full of kids. Robert wasn’t interested in having children. And now most recently, his belittling her interest in the rodeo and the new friends she’d made online.

  It didn’t matter who he had lunch with or why he was lying about it, all the rest added up to one glaring reality. He wasn’t the right man for her and she’d nearly made the biggest mistake of her life by marrying him. The moment she got home she’d tell him. Breaking off an engagement wasn’t something you did lightly or over the phone long distance—not that he was taking her calls. The wanker. Where was he anyway? She dreaded the answer.

  With trembling hands, she decided to try his cell phone one more time. The call went directly to voicemail, as it had the first time she’d tried. She wasn’t up to leaving him another message so she hit the disconnect button. Her shoulders sagged and she glanced down at her ring finger.

  She had to hand it to him, at least he’d gotten her a pretty ring. Maryann slid it off and held it up between two fingers. “It was nice knowing you,” she whispered to the twinkling diamond, then slipped it into one of the little zippered pockets inside her carry-on. While she had her bag open, she fished inside for a napkin or tissue to wipe her suddenly wet eyes.

  Chapter Three

  “What do you think she looks like?” Shooter surveyed the new arrivals in the terminal, the torn piece of cardboard Wes had made into a sign resting in one hand and propped against his chest.

  Wes still couldn’t believe all it had taken to convince his friend to hold that stupid sign was the promise of an extra beer out of the twelve-pack they’d be sharing. The one that Ellen hopefully had already put in the fridge to chill for him while they waited for Brit Chick to arrive.

  Shooter’s question was one Wes had already asked himself the moment he’d been assigned this task so he had an image of Maryann Morrissy already firmly planted in his head. “I’m picturing one of those British nannies like you see on TV. You know the ones I mean?”

  “No, not really. What kinda television you watching any way? Ain’t no British nannies on the hunting channel, that’s for sure.” Shooter frowned.

  “Come on. You’ve seen them. The ones with their hair pulled back into a really tight bun. They wear glasses and they’ve got thick ankles and wear big, ugly shoes. They could be old, could be young, but you can’t tell. They could be skinny, or could be fat, but you can’t really judge that either because they wear dresses that look like they were made outta a burlap sack.”

  “Hope you’re wrong, man. I think this British chick is going to be really hot, like the ones you see wearing those corset things in movies about Henry the Eighth. You know those low-cut tops where all the goods are pushed up and out.” Shooter used his free hand to mime pushing up his imaginary boobs.

  Wes shook his head. “You’re crazy. Even if corsets were still in style, I seriously doubt she’d be wearing one on the flight.”

  His friend shrugged. “A man can dream, can’t he?”

  “Yeah, keep dreaming there, buddy, because I’m pretty sure this is her flight and I don’t see any of Henry the Eighth’s wenches in corsets coming through that door.” What Wes did see was a slew of businessmen in suits looking like they were late for something somewhere, a mother with too many kids to handle alone, and a middle-aged women who smiled in his general direction to reveal crooked, yellowed teeth. Was this Brit Chick Maryann? “No corset there, thank God.”

  “No corset, but she’s hot enough, she don’t really need one.”

  Wes frowned at Shooter. “Hot? Her? What the hell are you talking about?”

  Then he followed his friend’s gaze and saw what Shooter had seen. Coming through the other door, also smiling in their direction was a woman about their own age and looking like nothing he’d imagined Brit Chick would look like.

  “Hello. I’m Maryann.” The lilt in her sweet voice shot straight through Wes, right down to his groin. Down below, Little Wes woke up to take notice and was apparently enjoying Maryann’s British accent from inside Wes’s jeans.

  Shooter’s face lit up with a wide, goofy grin. “Hey, Maryann. I’m Shooter. Welcome to America.”

  She extended her hand and grasped the one Shooter extended to her. Meanwhile, Wes knew his friend well enough to recognize the signs. Shooter was already plotting how to get this woman naked. That, Wes was pretty sure, would piss Ellen off to no end.

  While Maryann was shaking Shooter’s hand, Wes let his gaze take her in from the glossy, dark hair swinging just to her shoulders, to the sweater opened to show a generous pair of tits beneath her T-shirt, down over her nicely rounded hips and ass, all the way to the toes of her pointy cowboy boots. He wasn’t sure which part of his perusal surprised him the most, that she was hot or that a Brit was wearing extremely American-looking jeans and cowboy boots.

  She dropped Shooter’s hand and turned toward Wes and it was his turn to introduce himself. “Hey. I’m Ellen’s brother, Wes. She asked me to collect you since she got called in last minute for a shift at work.”

  “That’s nice of you. Thank you.” Her blue eyes focused on his as she shook his hand.

  Judging by the smooth softness of her skin, Wes would bet this girl had never done physical labor, such as farm work, in her life. Those hands would sure feel nice on all sorts of places. Wes reluctantly released her hand and glanced around, wishing for something clever to say so she’d smile at him the way she had at Shooter when she’d read that sign. Damn, he should have held it himself.

  Shooter grabbed the strap of the carry-on slung over her shoulder and making her list slightly to the side. “Here let me take that from you. It looks heavy.”

  “It’s fine, I can—” Maryann began to protest, but Shooter took the bag anyway, swinging it easily by one hand.

  “Don’t be silly. What man would let a woman carry a heavy thing like that herself? Let me just ditch this sign.” He glanced around them. “I just need a garbage—”

  “No, wait. Can I have it? As a memento of my trip.” This, just like everything this woman said, came out sounding soft and sweet, and made Wes want to kiss her silly.

  “Sure thing. Here you go.” Shooter handed it over with a grin.

  “Thanks.” She took the ragged piece of cardboard and clutched it close to her chest.

  Wes watched the interaction between the two with a scowl. In what he figured was going to be a battle between him and Shooter for this chick’s attention, Wes feared he was losing ground fast. Two points to Shooter for getting to hold the sign she seemed to love, and for thinking to grab her carry-on first while Wes was still trying to come up with some clever line. He needed to catch up. At least she’d be staying at his place with Ellen. That was something.

  “So, I guess we should go find the rest of your luggage.” Her next bag was going to be his, even if he had to wrestle Shooter for it. Since he figured it would be the bigger of the two, it should count for more.

  Her gaze met his. “That would be lovely. Thank you so much.”

  He swallowed hard. “My pleasure.” Believe me.

  She smiled like an angel and gave Wes thoughts more inspired by the devil. He imagined grabbing all that hair, yanking her head back and devouring her mouth like a starving man would a nice juicy steak. His brain had apparently caught on to what Wes Junior down below had known immediately—Wes wanted this girl. Badly.

  *****

  “I’m so, so sorry I wasn’t there to collect you at the airport, Maryann.”

  “Don’t be silly, Ellen. It’s fine. I had two lovely escorts to greet me when I got off the plane.”

  “Two?”

  “Yes, Wes and Shooter.”

  “I should have known Wes would rope Shooter into going with him. Watch out for that boy, Maryann. He collects bunnies like most men collect buckles.”

  “I’m not sure I understand.” Ellen frowned.

  “I’ll explain it when I get home. Anyway I swear, this is the last shift I have while you’re here so tomorrow we can go do whatever you want and tomorrow night is the rodeo so that’ll be tons of fun.”

  Maryann smiled. “I know it will be. Thank you again for your hospitality.”

  Ellen let out a laugh. “You’ve seen our apartment. Not sure my hospitality is all that great, but that’s what happens when all your cash goes to keeping your horse I guess.”

  “I’d love to meet yours, if we can fit it in.”

  “Of course, we will. You can meet mine, and Wes’s and even Shooter’s. They’re all at the same place where we practice.”

  “Great. I look forward to it.”

  “Me too. Listen, I hate to run out on ya but my break’s over. I probably won’t be home until you’re asleep but wake me up when you get up in the morning and we’ll have coffee—or tea—together. Whatever you want.”

  “Ellen, I’m on London time. I’ll be up hours before you, particularly if you work all night. I’ll entertain myself and when you wake up we’ll make plans for the day.”

  “Well I won’t argue with you now but seriously, I can’t wait to meet you in person.”

  “Me too.”

  “Okay, gotta run. Bye.”

  “Cheers.” Maryann pushed the button to hang up the call.

  “I’ll take that.”

  “Thanks.” Maryann handed the receiver back to Wes. She noticed he was watching her with a broad, amused-looking smile. She felt her cheeks warm. “Why are looking at me like that?”

  He shrugged and ran one hand over his mouth and chin, effectively wiping away the grin. She missed it once it was gone. “I, uh, I just like the way you talk. You know, all British.”

  “Really?” Maryann shouldn’t have been too surprised. She liked the way he talked too, all Texas-like, but she wasn’t going to admit that. “I sound like everyone else in London, I suppose.”

  The cowboy’s blue-eyed gaze practically smoldered as it bore into her. “Then maybe I’ll have to go there someday.”

  “You should. Then I can show you around.” Her heart picked up speed like it hadn’t when looking at a man in what seemed like forever.

  “That would be real nice.” He took one step toward her and leaned down. For a second, she thought he might kiss her, but instead he reached past her and placed the phone in the charger on the table next to her. But not before she breathed in the scent of him. All man. A combination of smells she couldn’t quite identify, but it was like nothing she’d experienced before and she liked it.

  “So, we ready?” Shooter breezed into the room and stopped as his attention caught on how closely she and Wes were standing.

  Wes cleared his throat and moved back. “Uh, yeah.” He turned to her. “You ready? Did you want to change or jeez—I didn’t even consider this—maybe you’re tired and just want to go to bed.”

  Oh she wanted to go to bed all right, but it wasn’t because she was tired.

  Where the hell were these feelings coming from? Her sex drive had been long dormant. It seemed as if deciding to break off her engagement to Robert had unlocked all sorts of things inside her. Maryann’s gaze traveled from one cowboy to the next. Maybe it wasn’t her decision regarding Robert at all. Maybe it was these American cowboys. They sure were yummy.

  She needed to control herself. Just because her ring was off her finger and she was planning on breaking it off with Robert when she returned, picturing both of these men naked didn’t sit well with her. That thought nearly made her laugh. God only knew what—or whom—Robert was doing at that very moment. Maybe she should call him and find out. Then again, there were better things for her to do tonight than worry about Robert.

  Glancing at Shooter, so tall and fit, his dark brown hair falling over his hazel eyes, then to Wes, just as tall and gorgeous but a bit broader across the shoulders, his light hair a nice contrast to Shooter’s dark good looks, Maryann realized her timing couldn’t be worse. What a holiday she could have if she was indeed officially single. Maybe after she broke up with Robert she’d start saving her pennies for a trip back. The sooner the better.

  “No, I’m not tired. Am I dressed appropriately? Do I need to change?”

  “You look fine to me.” Shooter’s eyes showed his appreciation as they swept her from head to toe. “I like the boots, by the way.”

  “Thanks.” Maryann hoped she wasn’t blushing as brightly as it felt like she was. “So where are we going?”

  “First, we’re taking you out for some real Texas barbecue. There ain’t nothing like it in the world and you have to try it while you’re here.” Wes’s enthusiasm was contagious.

  She smiled. “Brilliant. I’d love to try it.”

  Shooter stepped forward. “Then we’re bringing you to a party. With everyone in town for the competition tomorrow night, it should be one hell of a good time. You ready?”

  Maryann nodded. “I’m ready.”

  A party, filled with even more cowboys like the ones in front of her now? The ones that were making her lower parts feel all warm and liquid? She was in trouble, but maybe trouble was exactly what she needed right now. Though she’d better get her libido in check...or call Robert and break up with him over the phone.

  Wes stepped forward to open the apartment door so she could walk through first, then Shooter ran forward to open the door of the truck for her and Maryann realized resisting these two sweet, not to mention hot guys was not going to be easy.

  Chapter Four

  Maryann took another swallow of something that tasted far too good and went directly to her head. “What is this again?”

  “Energy drink with alcohol in it.” Shooter grinned. “I figured it would help you with the jetlag and all.”

  It sure was helping her, helping her think maybe she should grab Shooter’s enormous buckle and see what was behind it. That reminded her… “Ellen said something before I didn’t understand. About cowboys collecting bunnies and buckles?”

  Shooter choked on the mouthful he’d just taken. “Jeez, girl. Warn a guy before you say something like that.” He coughed and then wiped his face with his hand and grinned. “So you want to know about buckle bunnies, do ya?”

  Maryann nodded. “Yes.”

 

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