Blame It On The Cowboy

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Reese sank down onto one of the chairs in the sitting area. The stuffing was coming out of it, and it was covered with feathers from the throw pillows he’d gutted. Since it was copper colored, it looked like a huge molting chicken.

The drink offer hadn’t been genuine, but since Logan needed a refill, he flipped on the lamp and poured them each a glass. He handed it to her and then backed away. Even though he had on jeans now, he was still shirtless, and he was remembering the heated look she’d given him earlier.

A look he’d probably given her, too.

He didn’t understand why his body was attracted to this con woman, and he didn’t care. The attraction wasn’t going to play into this.

“How did you get into the building?” he asked. “Did you pick the lock?”

“Key.” She fished through her jeans pocket, came up with a key and dropped it on the small table next to the chair. “And don’t ask how I got it.”

“How’d you get it?”

She tossed back the shot and made a face just as she’d done after the tequila shots in the bar. “Found it. And no, I didn’t steal it. Nor did I steal anything once I was inside.” Reese paused. “You found out about my parents.”

“Yes,” he settled for saying. Logan didn’t add more. He wanted to see what spin she would put on this.

But there was no spin. She waited him out, and Logan decided he’d already spent too much time on Reese.

“Your parents, Marty and Vickie, are con artists. Your father died in prison a few years ago, but both have multiple arrests for pulling various scams. Scams in some cases where they used you.”

The PI had provided Logan with only one such case, but he figured there were more. In the one the that PI had learned about, Reese had distracted a store owner, claiming she fell and was hurt, while her parents stole items.

“That incident with Mia must have brought back some memories for you,” he snapped. “Of course, the difference is she wasn’t faking. So, what else did you fake? Did you pretend to be attracted to me—”

She came off the chair so fast that Logan didn’t have time to react. Reese took hold of him, jerked him to her and kissed him. It wasn’t the first time he’d been forced-kissed. It had happened one other time when he was a stupid teenager and had pretended to be Lucky so he could break up with a girl who was giving him some trouble.

That kiss was nothing like this one.

For one thing, there was some anger involved here. Not on his part. Logan was still trapped between surprise and “what the hell is she doing?” stage. Reese, though, was obviously trying to make a statement, and that statement was that she could make him feel the kiss in every inch of his body.

Every. Inch.

And she succeeded.

By the time she let go of him, Logan had moved on to the next stage. A hard-on. But since his dick had already caused him to make a bad decision by sleeping with her in the first place, Logan ignored the ache in his groin and stepped back.

“That’s why I slept with you,” she growled. “It didn’t have anything to do with who I am, your bank account, your ranch or your dusty stuff.” Reese flung her hand at the damaged items again.

The kiss obviously hadn’t affected her the same way it had affected him. Or so he thought. But then Logan heard her uneven breathing, saw the flush in her cheeks. Saw her glance at his hard-on. A long glance. That caused her breathing to become even more ragged.

It didn’t mean anything, of course.

So what if they were attracted to each other? It didn’t mean he was going to act on it. However, he was going to act on something else—getting her out of his life and away from his dick.

“For the record, I haven’t seen my mother in over two years,” she finally said, sinking back down onto the chair. “I really am a chef. Went to culinary school. And I wasn’t running a con on you.”

“Really?” He couldn’t have possibly sounded more skeptical.

“Really.” And she couldn’t have possibly sounded more pissed off. “What else did your spies dig up on me?”

Nothing. But clearly they’d missed something. Something that Logan would have them dig even deeper to find.

“Aren’t your con-artist parents enough dirt?” he asked her.

She stayed quiet again for several moments, but Logan thought she might be relieved. Yeah, there was definitely something else to learn about Reese Stephenson.

“I’ve done everything I can to distance myself from my parents and the things they did,” she finally said. “I never stay in one place for too long because I don’t want my mother to find me.”

“Then that should fit right into my plans.” He nearly brought up that he didn’t know what her plan had been, but he decided it wasn’t wise to risk another kiss. There were condoms in the loft, and he didn’t want that hard part of his body suggesting sex.

“What plans?” she asked.

“For you to leave.” He heard the words. The tone. It was probably a tone he used daily to someone involved in his business deals. But it did sound a little Old West, as if he were running her out of town.

Which he sort of was.