The Wrong Man in Wyoming (Intrigue) by Rolofson Kristine

Author:Rolofson, Kristine [Rolofson, Kristine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin Enterprises
Published: 2011-07-15T00:00:00+00:00

HE COULDN’T SLEEP. At least not all night through. At two o’clock Sunday morning Jed gave up and, stopping to check into Ty’s empty bedroom, headed for the kitchen He told himself he was worried about Ty. He wasn’t busy picturing a very desirable woman asleep in her bed upstairs. He wasn’t imagining Abby curled up beside him, underneath his grandmother’s quilt. No, Jed told himself, pouring a generous helping of whiskey into a glass, he was too old to be mooning over a woman who was only on his ranch to earn enough money to leave. Jed sat in the semidarkness and waited to feel tired enough to go back to bed, but he was on his second drink before he realized he wasn’t going to be alone.

He heard her footsteps before she entered the kitchen, so he took his drink over to the table as she came into the room.

Abby hesitated when she saw him. “We woke you again?”

“No. I couldn’t sleep. Ty’s not home yet.” Which was as good an excuse as any, he supposed. He noticed she made sure her robe was tied securely. “Care to join me?”

She smiled, and his heart rolled over. “This could become a habit, you know.”

Oh, he knew, all right. He watched her take a glass from the cupboard and pick up the bottle of Jack Daniel’s before she joined him. She sat across from him and for the slightest moment her bare feet brushed his.

“Excuse me,” she said, flushing slightly as she poured herself a drink.

“Did Cass have another nightmare?”

“No. This time it was Chrissie. She cried and woke me up. She went back to sleep, but I didn’t.” She held out her glass. “Here’s to a good night’s sleep,” she said, touching her glass to his.

“Amen,” he answered, glad she couldn’t read his thoughts. Her hair lay tousled and silky against the collar of the robe, her cheeks were flushed and she smelled like violets. He wondered why she wore perfume to bed. Had her husband liked the scent of flowers when he made love to her? He took her hand and turned it over to expose her palm. The whiskey made him bold, bold enough to lift her hand and bring it to his nose. “Violet perfume?”

She gently tugged her hand away and cupped her glass. “Bath powder.”

He dosed his eyes for just a second, which was long enough to wonder if the whiskey had gone to his head. No, he was fine. Just tired, that was all.

“Why are you awake?” she asked.

“Ty’s still not home.”

“Are you worried?”

“A little, but I pretty much know where he is. With his girlfriend, of course.”

“What do her parents say about her being out this late?”

“Her mother’s dead and her father’s most likely passed out at Murphy’s Bar. He’ll make it home in the morning after he sobers up, and Ty, if he has any sense, will be long gone by then.”

“Maybe they should get married,” she murmured. “At least you would know he was here on the ranch at night.

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