Page 40 of Lost in the Reins

"Probably because we haven’t." I offer a polite, if not entirely enthusiastic, smile. "I’m Paisley."

"Paisley," he repeats like he is tasting it. "Pretty name for a pretty lady."

Oh, boy. We’ve got a live one.

I keep my smile locked in place, but Martha, standing a few feet away, has already abandoned all pretense of minding her own business and is watching us like this is the best thing to happen since Pine Ridge got a second gas station.

"Luke." He sticks out a hand. "Just moved here. Thought I’d lend a hand at the festival, get to know some folks."

"Welcome to town.” I shake his hand quickly before letting go. "Fair warning: if you’re standing still for too long, Martha will put you to work."

Martha grins. "Don’t listen to her. She’s the one who needs something to do. You free for coffee, Luke?"

I shoot her awhat the heck, Martha?!look, but Luke takes that as his cue. "Actually, I was just about to ask the same thing. Would you like to grab a cup with me?"

And there it is. The moment when my brain short-circuits. Because technically, I’m not with Wes. Technically, he’s gone all emotionally distant since I’ve admitted feelings, and I have no claim to him, no reason to say no to a very nice, very attractive man who is, in theory, exactly the type of guy I should be dating.

But my heart doesn’t care about technicalities. It is still firmly lassoed around a certain brooding cowboy who smells like leather and soap and makes my stomach do ridiculous things whenever he so much as looks at me.

Panic starts to rise in my chest. I open my mouth, fully prepared to deliver some kind of polite brush-off, but before I can make a sound?—

"She’s busy."

The deep, gravelly voice sends a full-body shiver down my spine.

I turn just in time to see Wes Montgomery—backlit by the morning sun like some sort of cowboy avenger—stalking toward us with his usual unreadable expression.

Luke blinks. "Oh?"

"Yeah." Wes sounds perfectly casual, like he didn’t just materialize out of thin air to ruin this guy’s day. "She’s got plans."

I stare at him.I do?

Luke glances between us, debating whether to challenge the brick wall of testosterone that had just inserted itself into the conversation. He must decide against it because he holds up his hands in surrender. "Didn’t mean to step on any toes."

"You didn’t," Wes says, which is a hilarious lie, considering his entire body language screamsback off, buddy.

Luke turns to me. "Maybe another time?"

I offer a noncommittal smile, mostly because Wes is still standing there like a human roadblock, and I’m not entirely sure what is happening. "Maybe."

Luke nods, tips his hat, and walks off toward the dance floor setup.

Wes crosses his arms. "So."

"So," I echo, waiting for an explanation that never comes.

"My plans, huh?"

"Figured you didn’t want to deal with that."

"And you know what I want now?"

His eyes finally meet mine, something raw flickering there. Then, just as quickly, it’s gone.

"Seemed like a safe bet."

I let out a slow breath. "Wes?—"

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