Too Hot to Handle (Jackson Hole 2)

“And people are fascinated that their great-great-great-grandparents hung out in bars. They drank beer and whiskey. Maybe there were even prostitutes!”

He looked at the small, inset photograph of the saloon that was taken at the turn of the century. A man in an apron stood on the porch, a towel clutched in his hand. “I don’t think my… I don’t think the women of Providence were the prostitute type.”

“I don?

??t know.” She stared at the far wall. “I’d bet there might have been a lonely widow or two who got tired of sleeping alone. Women have needs, too. And there were all those lonely cowboys.”

“We still talking about Providence, Merry?” he asked.

She choked on laughter and smacked his arm. He tried not to look at the bounce of her breasts under the T-shirt. She wasn’t that kind of girl. She was goofy friend Merry Kade, who didn’t even realize that the press of her hard nipples against cotton could drive a man to distraction or she’d go put on a damn sweater.

“So you started this job when I wasn’t in Jackson. When did they bring you in?”

“I’d been watching job listings for the area. I’ve missed being near Grace and it’s so beautiful here. It just felt right when I visited, you know?”

He’d heard so many compliments about Jackson Hole over the years that he just nodded absently. It was beautiful, yes, but beneath the surface, it was no different than any other place, as far as he could tell.

“When I found this ad, I thought it was perfect. I had a little experience, and I thought I could really make a difference. I thought…”

“You thought what?”

Her brow tightened. “I thought I’d truly be needed.”

“But you are, aren’t you?”

“I don’t know, Shane. I mean, I feel like I’m needed. But it turns out…”

Shane leaned forward, his eyes never leaving her face, even though she didn’t look at him. “What is it?”

“I don’t want to tell you.”

“Come on. What is it?”

She finished her beer and set it so carefully on the table next to her that it didn’t make even the tiniest clink against the stone coaster. “Apparently there’s some sort of probate fight. Something to do with Gideon Bishop’s heir. I think they only brought me in as a symbol. Something to help fight the case. They don’t actually want me doing the work.”

Shane didn’t say a word. He didn’t even dare to breathe. On one hand, this was crucial information. Important news he could take to his attorney. Merry was only being used to weaken Shane’s case.

On the other hand, she looked devastated, and he wasn’t a monster. She blinked hard, as if she were holding back tears. “Hey,” he whispered. “It’s okay. I’m sure that’s not true.”

“I’m pretty sure it is.”

“But…” He couldn’t think of anything to comfort her. There certainly weren’t any honest words he could give. After all, his future lay in the promise that Providence wouldn’t happen. That it would continue to be nothing more than dead wood and tumbleweeds. But Merry had something to prove now.

Shit.

“I’m sorry they brought you here under false circumstances, but you’re doing a good job, regardless. The brochure looks great.”

“Right. And I was smart enough to hire you.”

The watery smile she aimed in his direction was like a twisting knife in his gut. Hiring him could, in fact, get her fired. But only if the board found out.

“Look, I admire your enthusiasm for this. And whatever is going on with the board isn’t your fault. Why don’t you consider my work on the saloon a gift.”

“No! I didn’t tell you that to make you feel sorry for me. You deserve to be paid. I’ll win them over.”

Not by tossing his name around, she wouldn’t. “I’ll call it pro bono work. Giving something back to the community.” Or just helping himself.

“I can’t ask you to do that.”