CHAPTER ONE
ITHADTObe a sin to be that handsome.
Briony Smith watched Cass Morgan walk through the rowdy crowd of cowboys, ranch hands and the occasional tourist singing along with the Thursday night band. Normally on nights like this, she could barely hear herself think.
But as Cass flashed her a sexy smile, white against the dark tan of his skin, all she could hear was her own heartbeat thundering in her ears. His caramel-colored eyes locked on hers. She shivered. Every time his intense gaze landed on her, slowly sliding up and down her body, she was amazed that her clothes didn’t melt off beneath the onslaught of his burning intensity.
The sensual feelings warred with her brain, had ever since Cass had walked into the Ledge a week ago, sat at the bar and kicked her newly discovered desires into overdrive. Her mother had drummed it into her for years that she didn’t need a man to survive. But, she’d added with a cheeky wink as Briony had gotten older, that didn’t mean you couldn’t enjoy yourself.
“How’d negotiations go today?” she asked as Cass leaned on the bar. Jet-black hair curled over his collar. She threaded her fingers together so she didn’t impulsively reach across the bar and run them through the thick, soft-looking waves.
Cass grimaced. Ever since he’d shown up last Thursday and ordered an old-fashioned, he’d been dropping hints at some business deal that had brought him to Kansas. One of the other bartenders, Katelyn, guessed it had something to do with a resort. Simon, the cook, was convinced Cass was opening his own cattle farm.
Briony glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, keeping her looking to a subtle glimpse instead of the flat-out ogling the other women of Nowhere had done all week. Although who could blame them? In a black polo fitted perfectly to his muscular torso and tan slacks, his cool confidence and blatant I-don’t-give-a-damn attitude, he looked right at home among the dusty boots, torn jeans and plaid shirts favored by the locals who called this former logging town home.
“They went.”
She arched a brow at the cryptic answer.
“So a double today?”
His grin returned and sent a jolt of electricity through her veins.
“Just a single.”
She poured the expensive Scotch whiskey that had languished behind the bar for years, added an oversize ice cube and passed him the glass. She sucked in a breath as their fingers brushed. Judging by the devilish gleam in his eyes, he knew exactly what kind of effect he inflicted on her.
“How was your day?”
The magic of the moment disappeared. Her day had gone much as any day. She’d woken up early to make breakfast and drag her stepsisters out of bed. Once adorable little twins with blond curls, cherub cheeks and the sweetest dispositions, they’d morphed into sullen teenagers with a penchant for leaving dirty laundry around the house and responding to Bri’s questions about school with grunts.
Small wonder, when they’d just lost the stepmother who’d loved them as her own to cancer six months ago, the same disease that had claimed their birth mother when they were just three years old. Toss in a depressed father who spent his days parked in front of the TV with a beer clutched in his hand and the small house that had once been packed with love and laughter but now groaned under the weight of their family’s despair.
Cheery.
“Briony?”
Cass’s voice yanked her out of her melancholy state. She loved the way he said her name, the syllables rolling off his tongue in an exotic accent.
“Sorry.” She gave him a quick smile. “It was fine.”
Most people accepted that answer, didn’t press for more out of courtesy or disinterest. But Cass stared at her, eyes probing. Her smile slipped as she shifted on her feet.
“What?”
“You’re an open book.”
She frowned. “Oh?”
He leaned across the bar. The scarred countertop still separated them. All she had to do was lean back to keep space between them.
But she didn’t. No, she just stood there as he laid a finger on her rapidly beating pulse at the base of her throat. Amazing how much fire one graze of a fingertip could ignite, she thought desperately past the swirling rush of blood roaring in her ears. The first time he’d ever touched her, a mere tap of his finger, and she could barely stop from swooning like a teenager with her first crush.
“The pulse in your throat. Your tongue darting out to touch your lips.” Despite the uptick in volume as the band transitioned into a raucous rendition of the latest country song, his words wound around her, a seductive spell. His eyes dropped down to her mouth. A wild temptation seized her, made her sway forward before common sense yanked her back. Had she truly almost kissed a customer? A most likely very wealthy, very handsome customer who would be leaving any day now?
Flustered, she grabbed one of the glasses she’d set out to dry as she stepped back from the bar and wiped it with the towel draped over her belt.
“Did something happen with your sisters? Or your stepfather?”