Corralled (22 page)

Hank frowned. “Don’t worry about it. You look great.”

Lainie rolled her eyes. “No makeup, my hair in a ponytail.

Yeah, I look real great.”

“You look awesome. No matter what you do or don’t wear,”

Kyle offered.

“I think so too,” Hank said.

Maybe fishing for compliments smacked of neediness, but Lainie was compelled to ask the question that’d been weighing on her mind for months. “Why did you guys hook up with me? You both could’ve had your pick of the litter of buckle bunnies. Or rodeo queens. I’m not in the same league as those women.”

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Kyle angled across the seat, trapping her face in his calloused hands and her eyes with his. “Don’t ever let me hear you say shit like that. When I saw you for the first time? With those wild red curls, that devilish smile, and beautiful, kind eyes, my heart just sort of . . . stopped. Then you checked out my injury in that no-nonsense manner, but you had such a tenderness about you, Lainie, a tenderness that knocked me sideways.”

Oh, God. Kyle really had thought about the answer, apparently before she’d mustered the guts to ask him the question.

“I ain’t as eloquent as Shakespeare here, but that’s awful damn close to what I was gonna say,” Hank said.

Flustered, she smiled. “Such sweet- talkin’ cowboys, laying it on thick when I’m already a sure thing. But I’ll take it. Even though I’d like a minute or ten to freshen up before Hank drags me to the sponsors’ tent.”

“Whatever you want. I’ll wait.” Hank leaned back in his seat.

“Me too,” Kyle said, with a hint of challenge.

As Lainie jumped out of the cab she heard them snap at each other, but she didn’t stick around to see what it was about.

9

Lainie wore her Lariat ID, so at least she didn’t look like a freeloading girlfriend. She half expected Hank to abandon her once they were ensconced in the tent, but he was determined to introduce her to everyone. It’d seemed like a good idea at the time.

Now she wondered if she was being unfair to Kyle by acting like Hank’s girlfriend in public.

Not that it would’ve mattered if she and Hank were a couple.

A number of scantily clad women were roaming around checking out male buckle and bulge size. Including Hank’s. If Hank had worn his official bullfighter clothing, the predatory ladies would’ve glommed onto him even more than they were already trying to.

LORELEI JAMES 9

How would you react if you were his girlfriend?

Rage. She wouldn’t put up with another woman’s hands on her man. Ever. Not in private and certainly not in public.

Was that what Hank and Kyle had fought about? How Hank would explain who Lainie was at an official event? How could Hank expect that Kyle wouldn’t be upset?

“Lainie.” Hank placed his hand on the small of her back and brought her forward. “I’d like you to meet Arvin Zimmerman.

Arvin is an old bullfighter, but mostly an old BS- er these days.”

She shook his hand. “Mr. Zimmerman. Nice to meet you.”

“Miz Lainie. The pleasure is all mine. Especially since Hank here usually flies solo.” Arvin’s gaze fell to her name tag. “How long have you worked for Doc Dusty?”

“A little over two years.”

“He seems to have his share of employee turnover in that company.”

Snarky thing to say right off the bat. Lainie smiled tightly. “I wouldn’t know. It’s been the same people in my office since I started.”

“At any rate, welcome. Hank, I’ll need to bend your ear at some point before you take off.”
Alone
was implied.

“Not a problem,” Hank said smoothly, and steered Lainie to the food table.

The food was standard: a meat and cheese tray, sliced fresh fruit, crackers, a veggie tray, and assorted chips and dips. She’d barely loaded her plate and found a place to sit when Hank was called away.

A bevy of buckle bunnies sat at the opposite end of the long table. They glanced at her dismissively and gossiped about some poor girl’s sluttish behavior.

A camera- toting man took candid shots of the partygoers.

Lainie ducked her head, swirling a carrot stick through the puddle

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of ranch dressing, wishing she were anywhere else. She heard, “Excuse me?” and looked up.

The photographer had aimed the lens close enough to see every pore on her face and snapped off a shot.

She lifted an eyebrow. “The painted ladies at the end of the table are far more photogenic than me.”

“But the fact that you don’t want your picture taken makes you a more fascinating subject.”

“Why would you think I’m camera- shy?”

That surprised him. “Because you ducked when you saw me.”

“No.” Lainie leaned closer, as if to confide in him. “I ducked because of the guy coming in behind you. You blocked me from his view, so thanks.”

He turned, allowing her time to tuck her name badge inside her shirt. “Which guy?”

“Oh. He’s gone now,” she lied.

The photographer was distracted by a pair of double Ds and wandered off.

Hank plopped down. “I’d planned to swoop in and rescue you from Larry the Lech, but you did just fine on your own, darlin’.”

Lainie kept her eyes on the pudgy man as he waddled outside.

“Who is he?”

“Larry works for
Pro Rodeo
magazine. He gets great arena action shots but he also considers himself an investigative reporter and tries to stir things up.” Hank snatched a green olive from her plate. “Nice deflection, by the way.”

“Hank Lawson?”

Both their gazes darted to the man standing at the end of the table. “Yes?”

“I’m Renner Jackson.”

Hank stood and took his outstretched hand. “Renner. Good to meet you. What can I do for you?”

LORELEI JAMES 9

Lainie watched the men sizing each other up. Renner was a good- looking guy. Dark blond hair sun- lightened to gold, deeply tanned features. Silvery blue eyes. Around the same height, build, and age as Hank, but nowhere in Hank’s league, in Lainie’s opinion.

“I thought I’d have Martin give you a heads- up that I wanted to talk to you because I wasn’t sure if you remembered me.”

“I’ll be honest; I recognized your name. But you don’t look familiar.”

Renner chuckled. “Probably because the last time we saw each other we were about seven or eight years old. I lived in Muddy Gap with my grandparents, Rona and Bill Harking, for a year when my dad was stationed overseas. Second grade? In Miz Tatanalli’s class.”

“Ah. Miz Tata’s class. I forgot all about her, even when I recall certain parts of her vividly.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

Hank smiled. “Hey, now I remember. You were the kid that projectile vomited against the bus window.”

“Highlight of my young life,” Renner said dryly. “I left Wyoming right after that when my dad was stationed at Ellsworth Air Force Base in South Dakota.”

“I gotta say, I’m surprised you remember me.”

“What stuck in my head was that you and your brother, Abe, were nice to a transplanted city kid. Much as I appreciated it then, I appreciate it even more now, when I know how locals feel about outsiders.” A quick grin. “Anyway, I got into the rodeo promotion/

stock contracting business a few years back and recognized your name as available for bullfighting services. But I haven’t run into you before now. Mostly I stick to the Midwest circuits and don’t get out West much.”

“I hear ya there.”

“You’ve got a great reputation, so I was happy to see we’d

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booked you. Anyway, at some point I’d like to sit down and talk to you about a couple of things.”

Hank’s skepticism was evident. “What kind of things?”

Renner looked behind him. “Personal things. As you know, my grandmother sold the place right after my granddad died, which was strange because they only lived there a couple years.”

No response except a cool stare from Hank, which sent an odd chill down Lainie’s spine.

“My dad was a little sketchy on what really happened. It’s always bugged me. Thought maybe once this rodeo season slows down, I could come by your place in Muddy Gap and pick your brain a bit.”

“Sure. I don’t see why not.”

“Great. Thank you. I appreciate it.”

Then Renner did a double take, appearing to have just noticed Lainie. He gave her a wily smile that might’ve made her weak-kneed if she hadn’t spent the last two years steeling herself against those sly cowboy grins.

Yeah, and that had worked so well with Hank and Kyle.

“Shame on me for overlooking such a lovely woman.” He offered his hand. “My sincere apologies. I’m Renner Jackson.”

“Lainie.”

“Lainie . . . ?” Renner repeated, politely inquiring her last name.

“Capshaw,” she supplied. Hank rarely used her last name when introducing her in an effort to protect her from the morbid interest that came along with being the daughter of the infamous and beloved Jason Capshaw.

Almost on cue, Renner’s blue eyes sparked with recognition.

“Capshaw . . . As in bull rider Jason Capshaw?”

“Yes. He was my father.”

Renner squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry. I’m sure with people LORELEI JAMES 9

asking you questions about him they forget you lost your father that day, not just one of the world’s greatest bull riders.”

Insightful and good- looking. That was refreshing. “Ah, thank you.”

“I don’t know if you’re aware,” Hank inserted, “but Lainie works for the Lariat Sports Medicine team.”

“I thought you looked familiar. You worked Silver City Roundup last year?”

Lainie tried to recall. “Probably. Why? Did I screw up or something?”

Renner laughed. “No. I remember warning my stock handlers that I’d be watching they didn’t fake injuries so the hot female med tech would treat them.”

She blushed, but managed, “If you need an extra hand tonight in the medical room, I’ll be around.”

“Really? That’d be great.” He pulled a business card out of his ID badge and wrote on the back of it before handing it over. “Give this to Beau.”

“I will. Thank you.”

“No, thank you.” Renner faced Hank and handed him a business card too. “Good luck going up against my stock tonight. If you’re interested in specifics, Pritchett, the chute boss, could fill you in on some of the nastier ones.”

“I might meander over there and see what’s what.”

“Good enough. I appreciate your time and I’ll be in touch about that other matter.”

Renner ambled off and Hank stared after him with an odd look.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothin’. It’s strange how things come full circle.”

She frowned. “That’s cryptic.”

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Hank refocused on her. “Not when you consider my mom and dad bought the Harkings’ acreage from Rona after Bill died.”

“So it’s part of the Lawson ranch now?”

“It was. We had it a year and then our parents died. We couldn’t make the payments so we sold it to a buyer out of Montana. It’s changed hands a couple of times since then. People claim it’s bad-luck land. So I ain’t surprised he’s curious about his grandpa dying there.” He blinked and the shadows in his eyes vanished. “Anyway, far as I’m concerned, we’re done here.”

They exited out the back entrance and the sun scorched Lainie’s eyes. She slipped on her shades. “If you’re checking bulls, I’ll wander around.”

“You want to meet at the camper later?”

His tone was sexy enough to send a shiver of longing through her despite the heat. “I promised Kyle my free time today.”

“But, Lainie—”

“I didn’t make the rules, Hank, but I’m abiding by them. I’ll see you later.” She whirled around in the opposite direction.

On impulse, Lainie ordered an icy cold draft of Moose Drool beer. She detoured to a secluded shady spot and took out her cell phone.

“How’s the luckiest woman in the world?” Tanna asked in her Texas twang.

“Great. Can you hear me enjoying my tasty beer?”

“Drinkin’ and whorin’ in the afternoon? Dude. I could totally hate you.”

Lainie laughed. “It’s bizarre. I cannot remember the last time I sucked down a cold one in the middle of the day.”

“That said . . . I’ll bet you’re getting used to sucking down lots of things during all times of the day and night, huh?”

She choked on her beer. “Jesus, Tanna, warn me next time.”

LORELEI JAMES 9

“Now, where’s the fun in that? How’s it goin’ with your men, sugar?”

“Okay.”

“Just okay? How many times you been the filling in a hot and hard manwich?”

“Define filling.” There. That should get the conversation going.

Pause. “Now, see, it’s a good thing I know you so well, or I wouldn’t recognize your sly way of asking me for advice. So what’s the problem?”

“This is gonna sound so . . .” Slutty? Whorish? Nah. Lainie was just . . . impatient. And that was damned embarrassing to admit.

“Come on, girlfriend. I know those camper walls are rockin’, so it ain’t like you’re gonna shock me with your kinky tales of ménage à trois.”

“When we stopped at Hank’s house in Muddy Gap it was easier to explain that I was just with him. I ended up spending the night in his bed. But Kyle demanded equal ‘alone’ time with me at the next opportunity. So tonight it’s just me and Kyle.”

“I don’t see how that’s a problem. Unless . . . you’ve gotten used to bein’ with both of them at the same time and you prefer a threesome scene to one on one?”

“No, this goes back to your filling comment.” Lainie took another drink of beer. “We’ve done variations on all of us being together, but not what I expected, where they’re both . . .”

Silence. Then, “Ah. The old double- penetration threesome.”

Lord. Her face heated. How could she do it if she couldn’t even say it?

“That’s what you want?” Tanna asked carefully.

“Yes. Wouldn’t you? I mean, didn’t you?”

“Uh- huh. But maybe they’re leading up to it. It does take a bit

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of choreographing and some preparation, if you get my drift. And, sugar, it’s only been four nights, right?”

Is that all? Then why was she so antsy? “Right.”

“What happened last night with all three of you?”