A few minutes later, seeing his opening—which didn’t come often with three women at the table—Dalton jumped in. “Got an offer on Rosco at the show today.”
“I forgot about the show,” Joss said. “He did well?”
“He did.”
“Rosco is that pretty little buckskin colt?” Len asked.
Dalton nodded. “He’s three now, and not so little anymore.”
“A good offer?” Hicks asked, breaking his week-long supper silence.
“Nothing special. But it shows interest. If the colt continues to improve, that interest will probably peak at the Futurity in November.”
Joss frowned at Raney, who was staring at Dalton with that pinched look again. “I didn’t know you were considering selling Rosco.”
Raney gave a weak smile. “I’m not. He’s a cornerstone in our quarter horse program. More wine, anyone?”
That was all she had to say? Dalton watched her empty her half-full goblet in two swallows, then pour it full again. She was sure worked up about something.
Another lull. This time, Alejandro jumped in. “Dalton got an offer, as well.”
All eyes turned to Dalton. Most showed curiosity. Raney’s showed panic.
“From whom?” Len asked.
When Alejandro didn’t answer, Dalton said, “An outfit out of Oklahoma looking to build up their training staff.”
“A good offer?” Joss asked.
“Middling.”
Joss glanced at Raney again, who was staring into her wineglass. She turned back to Dalton, “Are you going to take it?”
“No.” He spoke firmly and decisively, then waited for Raney to look up. When she did, he smiled at her and said, “I’m happy where I am.”
There was a moment of awkward silence as unspoken messages rounded the table. Then irrepressible Joss laughed. “I think he’s hinting for a raise, Raney.”
Dalton shook his head. “It’s not about money, Joss. It’s about building something worthwhile. Rosco is part of that. I’m not looking to move on. But I’ll take more of that roast beef, if there’s any left.”
That broke the tension and the rest of the meal continued without incident.
Dalton was relieved to see the pinched look leave Raney’s face. She even smiled at him over her wineglass. Small steps. But at least he was still in the game and she didn’t seem upset with him anymore. For whatever reason.
Women. Emotional quagmires. He’d never figure them out.
Alejandro and Hicks left soon after the meal ended.
Dalton headed to his room a few minutes later, leaving the sisters to catch up on all the gossip, trade recipes, fix one another’s hair, polish their toes, or whatever it was women did when they got together. He was lights-out and asleep by nine.
At eleven thirty, his phone buzzed. He started to ignore it, then remembered he was the security guy. Muttering under his breath, he fumbled for it on his nightstand, and punched ACCEPT. “What?”
“You awake?”
Raney. He sat up. “I am now.”
“Want company?”
“Ah . . . sure.” Then, just to needle her, he said, “Who is this?”
“Asshat.”
“Asshat who?”
The call ended.
Dalton slumped back. He stared up at the ceiling, wondering what had just happened. Was he still asleep? Awake? Was Raney really coming to his room?
Holy shit. He was off the bed and zipping his jeans when he heard the first tentative knock. He opened the door to find Raney standing there.
In a satiny robe.
And not much else.
“Hey,” he said, too befuddled to think of anything snappy to say.
She whipped inside and closed the door with barely a sound, then leaned against it, arms behind her, palms flat against the wooden panels, breathing hard. “I didn’t want them to see me.”
“Who?” he asked, appreciating the way the thin cloth of her robe tightened across her breasts with every breath.
“My sisters.”
That sounded like she was ashamed of him. But Dalton didn’t pursue it just then. He was having more fun concentrating on her breasts. They were really nice breasts. “You’re thirty. A little old to be sneaking around, don’t you think?”
“Twenty-nine and two-thirds. And you don’t know my sisters.”
Actually, he did.
But before he could point that out, she said, “Do you have any condoms?”
Condoms? He forced his gaze to her face. She was smiling. Or trying to. It didn’t match the anxiousness in her eyes. “Condoms?”
“Rubbers. Prophylactics. Whatever. Do you have any?”
His heart started to race. “Yeah.”
“How many?”
“Enough.”
“Pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you?”
“What?”
“That you just happened to have a bunch of condoms on hand.”
“I didn’t say I had a bunch of them. And they’re old.” That didn’t sound right.
“How old?”
“From before prison. Look, before we go any further, I need to know the rules.”
“What rules?”
“You’ve been holding me at arm’s length for months now, and suddenly you show up at my door in the middle of the night, half-dressed and asking if I have condoms. Not that I’m complaining. You look great, by the way. I really like your robe. But I just need to know why you’re here before I do something that might get me in trouble.”
She blinked at him like a night bird caught in a beam of light. “I just asked you if you had condoms, for heaven’s sake,” she said in an exasperated tone. “Why do you think I’m here?”
She was starting to lose that anxious look. Now she looked more irritated. In Dalton’s mind, a step in the right direction. Raney was a lot more fun when she was riled up than when she was skittish and fearful.
“For all I know, you’re just here to borrow my condoms. But the ones I’ve got I’ve been saving for a special occasion.”
“Like what?”
“Like you showing up at my door in the middle of the night, half-dressed and asking if—”
“You’re such an asshat.”
“You keep saying that.” But rather than carry it too far, Dalton put on a smile, and with total sincerity, said, “I’m happy you’re here, Raney.”
“You don’t look happy.”
“No?” He motioned to the front of his jeans, and the bulge that was starting to get uncomfortable. “Does that look unhappy to you?”
She looked away. But not before she looked down.
“I still need to know why you’re here,
