lost their sparkle hours ago, but her mouth still curved into quick, fleeting smiles as she spoke to her customers. A soft, worn pair of jeans loved every one of her curves, up the slender length of her legs to the slight swell of her hips. At her waist, the Dynamite shirt took over, hugging and outlining her back and the fullness of her breasts. The lady was doing things to him that kept him awake at night, and he needed his sleep.
“The guy must have been crazy,” he muttered, more to himself than to Doug, but the younger man answered.
“ ‘TNT’ isn’t such a bad guy. He just couldn’t settle down.”
Hal shot him a quizzical glance. “ ‘TNT’?” he questioned. He didn’t have a sister, but if he had, he sure wouldn’t take such a friendly attitude toward a man who’d cheated on her. Once again the thought seemed incomprehensible.
“Yeah, like in dynamite. That’s his car Stevie drives. Or it used to be anyway. I guess it belongs to her now.”
Dynamite . Against his will, Hal’s gaze drifted back to Stevie and her red shirt, and suddenly it didn’t look quite as sexy as he’d thought.
“That Kip.” Doug chuckled. “He’s something. Really loves a good party. Hell, Kip loves a bad party. He and Stevie sure made the rounds when they were young.”
Two things bothered Hal about Doug’s reminiscing: The past tense verb in front of “young,” and the thought of Stevie “making the rounds” with a groping party animal. He’d heard enough.
But Doug was just getting warmed up. “You should have seen their wedding. It was the biggest thing to hit this county in twenty years. Must have been two hundred people there, practically everybody in town. And the cars”—a wistful note crept into his voice—“Kip knows everybody with a hot car on the Western Slope. It was the first time I ever sat in a Porsche!”
Hal recognized a severe case of hero worship when it hit him in the face, but this was the first time he hadn’t been the hero. He’d like to see this Kip guy try to climb Everest, or raft the Waghi River. As a matter of fact, he’d like to see it real bad.
“Yep, we all thought Stevie did good for herself when she finally got Kip to the altar. Mom and Dad pitched in with Mr. and Mrs. Brown and built them that cabin for a wedding present, right on the edge of the ranch, right where Stevie wanted it.”
The A-frame had been a wedding present? A sick feeling plummeted into the middle of Hal’s stomach. Stevie had told him it was only two years old. This wasn’t an old ex-husband they were talking about. This was a brand new ex-husband.
“Kip spoiled her, too, even at the divorce. He let her have the house and the car and half interest in this place. If Stevie hadn’t caught him red-handed, they’d probably still be together.”
Thankfully, a man came up to order a drink, distracting Doug from the conversation. But Hal wasn’t any happier left alone with his thoughts.
A jerk named TNT, who fancied himself hot as dynamite had loved, spoiled, and walked out on a woman who treated Hal like a bad case of hives, something to be endured. Hal couldn’t figure it: he wasn’t such a bad guy. But then again, every car he’d ever owned bore a remarkable resemblance, in looks and temperament, to his truck. The only house he’d ever owned was almost a memory—and the adventuring business wasn’t something you could just up and give to somebody, at least not the way he went about it. Not many people wanted to paddle their guts out on a white-water river for three meals a day and damn little else, or haul a hundred and twenty pound pack up the side of an unforgiving mountain for bragging rights and a few items of equipment.
Hal liked things that way. The fewer people out there cluttering up the wild places, the better. But he liked something else too—the way Stevie Lee made him feel—and he could imagine a thousand ways to spoil her, none of which he could afford. Even with all the
“The guy must have been crazy,” he muttered, more to himself than to Doug, but the younger man answered.
“ ‘TNT’ isn’t such a bad guy. He just couldn’t settle down.”
Hal shot him a quizzical glance. “ ‘TNT’?” he questioned. He didn’t have a sister, but if he had, he sure wouldn’t take such a friendly attitude toward a man who’d cheated on her. Once again the thought seemed incomprehensible.
“Yeah, like in dynamite. That’s his car Stevie drives. Or it used to be anyway. I guess it belongs to her now.”
Dynamite . Against his will, Hal’s gaze drifted back to Stevie and her red shirt, and suddenly it didn’t look quite as sexy as he’d thought.
“That Kip.” Doug chuckled. “He’s something. Really loves a good party. Hell, Kip loves a bad party. He and Stevie sure made the rounds when they were young.”
Two things bothered Hal about Doug’s reminiscing: The past tense verb in front of “young,” and the thought of Stevie “making the rounds” with a groping party animal. He’d heard enough.
But Doug was just getting warmed up. “You should have seen their wedding. It was the biggest thing to hit this county in twenty years. Must have been two hundred people there, practically everybody in town. And the cars”—a wistful note crept into his voice—“Kip knows everybody with a hot car on the Western Slope. It was the first time I ever sat in a Porsche!”
Hal recognized a severe case of hero worship when it hit him in the face, but this was the first time he hadn’t been the hero. He’d like to see this Kip guy try to climb Everest, or raft the Waghi River. As a matter of fact, he’d like to see it real bad.
“Yep, we all thought Stevie did good for herself when she finally got Kip to the altar. Mom and Dad pitched in with Mr. and Mrs. Brown and built them that cabin for a wedding present, right on the edge of the ranch, right where Stevie wanted it.”
The A-frame had been a wedding present? A sick feeling plummeted into the middle of Hal’s stomach. Stevie had told him it was only two years old. This wasn’t an old ex-husband they were talking about. This was a brand new ex-husband.
“Kip spoiled her, too, even at the divorce. He let her have the house and the car and half interest in this place. If Stevie hadn’t caught him red-handed, they’d probably still be together.”
Thankfully, a man came up to order a drink, distracting Doug from the conversation. But Hal wasn’t any happier left alone with his thoughts.
A jerk named TNT, who fancied himself hot as dynamite had loved, spoiled, and walked out on a woman who treated Hal like a bad case of hives, something to be endured. Hal couldn’t figure it: he wasn’t such a bad guy. But then again, every car he’d ever owned bore a remarkable resemblance, in looks and temperament, to his truck. The only house he’d ever owned was almost a memory—and the adventuring business wasn’t something you could just up and give to somebody, at least not the way he went about it. Not many people wanted to paddle their guts out on a white-water river for three meals a day and damn little else, or haul a hundred and twenty pound pack up the side of an unforgiving mountain for bragging rights and a few items of equipment.
Hal liked things that way. The fewer people out there cluttering up the wild places, the better. But he liked something else too—the way Stevie Lee made him feel—and he could imagine a thousand ways to spoil her, none of which he could afford. Even with all the
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