One Night With a Cowboy (13 page)

She shook her head at the thought and released her seat belt as Dean Ross did the
same. Time to face the troops. Literally.

T
uck shot the man walking at his side a less than happy look. “There are a thousand
faculty members at this campus. Tell me again why I have to attend this tea party
or whatever the hell it is?”

Logan Hunt, head of the OSU ROTC program and theoretically—all right, officially—Tuck’s
boss, glanced over. His dark brows rose. “It’s not a tea party. It’s a mixer and I’m
told they’ll be serving wine—”

“Wine. Oh, great. Will there be sherry, too? Or perhaps a nice port? Should I run
home and get my smoking jacket and my—”

“—
and
you’re attending because I asked you, nicely, to come with me.” Logan continued as
if Tuck hadn’t been speaking . . . or bitching. Whichever.

Asked
him to. Sure. As if Tuck could have said no. Logan was his friend, yes. He had been
for years, since way back when they’d grown up together, long before they’d both joined
up. But Logan was his superior officer as well as a friend, and he’d done Tuck a huge
favor during the crash and eventual burn of his marriage.

When Tuck’s deployment ended, Logan used every military connection he had and pulled
all the strings he could to get Tuck assigned the billet in the ROTC program on campus.

Tuck had needed to be here in familiar territory, around people and places he knew,
not in Germany, or Italy, or deployed again where his head not being in the game could
cost lives. His own, or worse, those of the men around him.

He owed Logan plenty for that. When he’d joined up all those years ago, he’d never
in his wildest imagination thought he’d end up being a teacher, even if it was as
an instructor in OSU’s ROTC program. But he really never thought owing Logan a favor
would mean having to sip wine with a bunch of librarians. Boss trumped friend today.
Hell, probably any day. But an English department wine mixer? What the devil did this
have to do with work?

He drew in a deep breath of hot summer air. “I don’t see why you have to go at all,
with or without me. This has nothing to do with our department.”

“Mark asked me to come,” Logan answered.

“Mark Ross? The dean I met at your poker game that one time I sat in as fourth?”

“Yup.”

They continued toward the building where this wine party was being held. It was a
hell of a hike in the August heat to be walking clear across campus for no good reason,
while wearing his army combat uniform to boot. Maybe if there were a nice cold longneck
waiting for him it would be a different story, or if the mixer part referred to cola
to mix with a bottle of bourbon, Tuck’s feelings might be changed.

In any case, he knew he could bitch about the mixer, but he didn’t dare complain about
the walk or the heat. If he did, Logan would probably make him run the campus with
a full pack like he was a damn cadet. Army strong and all that. A soldier could complain
about being forced to mingle at a party with some pansy-asses, but he’d better not
complain about anything even closely resembling PT. Even if the T-shirt under his
ACU would be soaked with sweat by the time they reached this shindig.

Maybe subjecting his new professor to two sweaty soldiers would teach this friend
of Logan’s from the English department not to invite the military science crew to
a fancy wine mixer.

Tuck considered why they were invited in the first place and still couldn’t come up
with a good reason. “You know, just because you guys play poker together every week
still doesn’t give me any reason why you have to go to this English mixer thing.”

“He wanted a big turnout for his new professor. She just moved all the way from New
York and doesn’t know anybody, so he thought it would be nice. She’s supposedly smoking
hot, if that helps ease the burden on you any.” Logan shot him a sideways glance.

New York. That’s where Becca was from. He swallowed away the dryness in his throat.
His body still reacted viscerally at just the thought of Becca. If he didn’t watch
it, he’d have a hard-on walking into this party.

He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, focusing again on the conversation
before his memories ran away from him. “I seriously doubt she’s hot, and even if she
is, I don’t exactly think English professors are my type. Or that I’m theirs. The
only books I own are
The Art of War
and Schwarzkopf ’s autobiography.”

“So? I thought that bio was a good read.”

Tuck frowned so deeply he could see the brim of his watch cap lower from the action.
“Yeah, it was. And what do you think the chances are little miss professor has read
it? I’ll tell you, slim to none.”

Logan laughed. “You never know. Besides, opposites attract and all that.”

He let out a snort. “You can’t get much more opposite than a soldier and bull rider
from Oklahoma and an English professor from New York.”

“Don’t sell yourself short. You’re on equal footing here. You’re both faculty at a
damned good university. Just because you’re usually teaching military operations and
tactics and she teaches—hell, I don’t know—poetry or whatever, doesn’t mean you’re
not on the same level.”

What was this big push by all his friends to make him keep associating with random
women from New York? First Jace at the rodeo—not that he regretted that, except for
all the sleep he’d lost over Becca since then. But now Logan was in on the act, too,
by making him go to this party.

He frowned at Logan. “You’re single. Why are you trying to push this woman off on
me? What about you? You can just as easily compare military biographies with her as
I can.”

“If that’s how you feel, fine.” Logan shrugged. “Just thought it was about time you
got back on the horse. You know, started to get out and meet people. Mingle a little.
It’s been a year since the divorce.”

What, did all his friends have the anniversary of his divorce marked on their calendars?
“I’m fine, thanks. I don’t want to meet any new people. And I’ve recently been back
on the horse, thank you very much.”

The only thing admitting the truth to Logan did was make Tuck miss that ride, and
regret never seeing again one particular filly with bright blue eyes and hips a man
could hold on to all night long. Crap, he was definitely going to get a full-blown
hard-on if he didn’t redirect his thoughts. And how had he let this conversation turn
to sex?

“Oh, really?” Logan actually stopped walking and turned to face Tuck. “When?”

He kept walking and said over his shoulder, “I’m not talking about it.”

“Fine.” Logan’s long strides brought him even with Tucker again in no time.

Meanwhile, he had taken a moment to consider this mysterious guest they were going
to meet and what Logan had said about her. His frown deepened. “Wait a minute—the
dean of her department is going around telling people his new hire is hot? That’s
pretty unprofessional. He’s lucky if he doesn’t lose his position and get his ass
sued for shit like that.”

Tuck should know. They’d all had to sit through more than their share of sexual harassment
seminars in the military.

“It wasn’t Mark. One of the cadets told me. He was on line behind her when she was
getting her photo ID yesterday. He heard everything. She was telling the clerk she’d
just got hired in the English department. That she moved from New York. Has to be
her.” Logan shrugged.

“Hmm. Guess so.”

“The kid compared her to some actress I never heard of but all the guys apparently
think is smoking.” Logan pulled open the door to the building and held it while Tuck
let that information soak in.

An English professor who was hot enough for a still wet-behind-the-ears cadet to notice.
Hmm. Too bad Tuck wasn’t interested. Hot women were nothing but trouble. Take his
ex-wife for example. And Becca—one night with her had left him waking up in the middle
of the night hard and unhappy for weeks now.

He followed Logan down the hallway of the air-conditioned building, happy at least
to be out of the sun. Maybe some of that wine wouldn’t sit so badly after all—if it
was cold.

Once inside the room, he decided he might need more than wine to endure this event.
He stifled a groan and then glanced at Logan, unhappier about this than before. It
was even worse than he’d imagined.

One old man who looked freakishly like Santa Claus was stationed next to the cheese
platter, where it looked like he was trying to eat enough so he wouldn’t need dinner.
There were two women of indeterminate ages, heads bent low as they whispered to each
other. They were both dressed in sweaters even though it was August. The pinched expressions
on their faces made the mean librarian from Tuck’s high school look warm and fuzzy.

He swiped his patrol cap from his head and shoved it into one of the pockets in his
pants as he looked around at the other attendees. At first glance, they seemed no
better than cheese guy and the two conspiratorial librarians.

“Uh, Logan, how long do we have to stay?” It was like a nursing home in here, which
made the reports of the new English professor being hot even more ludicrous.

“At least until the guest of honor gets here and Mark sees me.”

Ha! Judging by his tone and that answer, he could tell Logan was no happier to be
here than he was. Good to know, since misery loved company. Misery also loved alcohol.
“I’m getting a drink. You want one?”

Logan let out a snort of a laugh. “Oh, yeah.”

“Be right back.”

He forgot to ask Logan what he wanted, but when he got to the table with the ice and
glasses set up, there wasn’t much of a selection anyway. It looked like some sort
of fancy bottled water and wine were the only options. Well then, that made the choice
easier, except for whether to get white or red.

Tuck made the decision all on his own to get the white wine since it seemed closer
to the beer he really wanted and he was still hot from the walk. He’d get Logan the
same. It wasn’t as if either of them knew or cared anything about wine anyway.

Hell, while he was there, he grabbed two bottles of water for them, too, and shoved
them both in the crook of his arm. Double-fisting wasn’t considered bad party manners
if one was nonalcoholic. Right? Besides, the importance of keeping hydrated was a
lesson troops learned well during any deployment to a hot region in summer.

Hands and arms full, he headed back to Logan and handed him his half of the refreshments.
Logan would have to go up and get the cheese his own damn self if he wanted any. Tuck
wasn’t about to wrestle Santa for it.

“They’re late.” He glanced around the room one more time, hoping to see Ross and the
guest of honor so they could say their hellos and good-byes and get the hell out of
there.

“No, we’re early.”

Great. Nothing like arriving early at a party he didn’t want to go to in the first
place. “So you mean some more new and exciting guests might still show up? I don’t
know if I can handle any more excitement than this.”

“We could stay for the whole thing . . .” Logan’s veiled threat put a gag on all future
smart-ass remarks.

For lack of anything better to do, Tuck chugged the bottle of water in one go and
then tossed the empty into the nearby recycling can set up next to the trash. One
down, one to go. The excitement never ended around this place. He raised the wine
to his lips and was about to take the first sip to determine if it was even worth
drinking, when he saw her walk in the door.

He had to stare to make sure he was really seeing who he thought he was seeing. But
staring didn’t change a thing. It was her. “Holy crap.”

“What’s wrong?” Logan laid a hand on his shoulder when he didn’t respond. “Tuck? You
all right? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

A short laugh escaped Tuck at that comment. Seeing Becca here and now when he’d figured
he’d never see her again was almost like seeing a ghost. His focus never strayed from
the doorway, where Becca smiled and shook hands with whomever Mark Ross was introducing
her to.

“Tucker.” Logan’s voice knocked Tuck out of his shocked silence.

“Yeah. I’m fine.” He finally remembered to respond to Logan. “Uh, do you happen to
know the name of this new English professor from New York?”

“I think Rebecca something. Why?”

Close enough. While he considered exactly how to go about explaining the situation
to Logan, his friend had already followed the direction of his gaze.

Now Logan was staring at the doorway as well. “There’s Mark. And that must be her.
Phew. Now I know why you look like you’re in a trance. The kid wasn’t wrong. She is
smoking. Judging by your uh, shall we say, reaction, you agree.” Logan glanced at
him. “So, you still not interested in meeting her?”

Tuck let out a snort. “You’re way too late for that.”

He knew the moment Becca saw him. She frowned, looking almost as if she couldn’t place
him. Even if she did recognize him, the uniform and his being here at the university
would have thrown her. It didn’t fit her memory of him in chaps and his cowboy hat
at the rodeo. Or later on of him naked and in bed.

After a few seconds recognition must have hit her. Her eyes opened wide. Her boss
had to touch her arm to get her attention, but even when she did manage to shake hands
with the woman he was now introducing her to, she kept glancing in Tuck’s direction.

“Tuck, what’s going on?” Logan asked.

How should he put this? “Um, you know how I told you I’d gotten back on the horse
recently? Well . . .” Tuck cocked his head in Becca’s direction.

“Her?” Eyes wide, Logan couldn’t have looked more shocked if he’d tried.

“Yep.”