The Wildes of Wyoming: Ace Page 2

  “Ace.” Cass’s voice came over the phone line. “The final decision has to be yours.”

  “Then I’m making it. Hire her.”

  “Sight unseen?”

  “Sight unseen. If you approve, that’s good enough for me.”

  “Okay. But be warned. I don’t want to hear any complaints about this later. With all the last-minute things I have to plan for my wedding, I don’t have time to go through this again.” Her voice warmed. “Just think. After I walk down the aisle with Larry, I’m never going to worry about what goes on at WildeMining again.”

  “Yeah?” He barely paused before saying, “I still say you’re making a big mistake, Cass. I figure it’ll take about two weeks after your marriage before you’re crying in your morning coffee because you let Larry talk you into quitting. You know you love it.”

  “Ace, we’ll be living two hundred miles away.”

  “So do I. That’s a pretty lame excuse, Cass.”

  She heard the teasing laughter in his voice and gave it right back. “Yeah. Well here’s an even better one. As soon as the honeymoon is over, I expect to be taking my first home-pregnancy test.”

  His mouth dropped open. “Are you crazy?”

  “No. I’m over thirty. And, in case you’ve forgotten, so are you. That clock’s ticking. I want a baby, Ace. And I want one soon.”

  “Give my best to Larry,” he said dryly. “He’s going to need it. And Cass, send me that fax now.”

  He disconnected, then walked to the window to stare at the land below. The plane was just passing over the tips of the Bighorn Mountains. The sight of them glistening in late summer sunlight never failed to give him a thrill.

  He and his brothers had worked so hard to make their father’s dream come true. But the reality was so much better than anything Wes Wilde had ever envisioned. WildeOil, headed by Chance, the oldest brother, was showing its highest profit ever. The ranch, the Double W, which middle brother Hazard operated, was the largest and most successful in Wyoming. And WildeMining, which was Ace’s baby, with its treasure trove of coal and uranium, was quickly becoming a force to be reckoned with.

  Still, in some small part of his mind he realized that he missed those lean years. Lately, with all their success, there had been so much change. Their own jet and helicopter, and crews to maintain them. So many additions to the sprawling ranch house that it now looked more like a mansion than a ranch. And additions to the family, as well. Both Chance and Hazard had fallen in love and had recently married.

  Marriage. It seemed as though the whole world was on a marriage binge. It wasn’t just his brothers. There were his college pals, who were now starting families of their own. And even Cass, his long-time secretary, who was giving up a satisfying career to settle down with a rancher. He shook his head. They’d all lost their senses and were falling like dominoes. Who would fall next?

  “Not my problem,” he muttered aloud as the fax line hummed.

  He tore off the first page and settled himself in the leather recliner, fastening his seat belt as he did. He’d be home in less than an hour. And in town, relaxing over a beer and a game of pool at Clancy’s, in less than two.

  “Hey, Ace.”

  “Hi, Boone.” Ace slid onto the bar stool beside his old high school buddy. On his other side sat Cody Bridger, a weathered old cowboy who had been at the Double W since Ace was a boy. The two had driven into town together.

  “I never see you in here, Boone. What’s the occasion?”

  “Barb and the kids went up to Laramie to visit her folks. I’ve got the weekend to myself.”

  “A weekend of freedom, you mean.” Ace signaled the bartender, who set long necks in front of him and Cody.

  “Naw. Truth is…” Boone grinned and took a pull from his bottle. “…I’d rather be home in front of the TV. But the house feels too empty. So I figured I’d kill some time here at Clancy’s. See if any of the old gang was here.” He turned to Ace, who was already scoping out the pool tables, looking for a game. “You’re the only one I know in here.”

  “That’s because I’m the only one who hasn’t let himself get roped and hog-tied by a female.” Ace shot him the famous Wilde smile before turning again to peer through the haze of smoke.

  That’s when he spotted the redhead. Despite the pall that hung in the air, she stood out like a beacon with that cloud of fiery tangles spilling down her back. That wasn’t all she had going for her. Long legs were poured into tight jeans. A little bit of a shirt had pulled away from her waist to expose just a trace of creamy white skin. Her body, bent over the pool table as she concentrated on the cluster of balls at the opposite end, was almost sinful.

  Ace found himself mesmerized by the sight of her backside. It took him a moment to realize that she’d completely missed her shot. She was laughing about it as she turned away and watched the cowboy beside her take aim.

  The cowboy wasn’t much better. He tried to show off by banking a shot. The ball bounced off the side of the table and rolled harmlessly to the other end.

  The redhead looked up at him adoringly. Then she bent over the table again. Just as she was about to take her shot the stick slipped from her hand, hitting the ball. It rolled across the table and fell into the pocket.

  “You get to take another shot,” the cowboy said.

  “I do? Oh, this is fun.” Her voice was unexpectedly low and sultry. Not at all what Ace had been expecting.

  “Hey, Benny.” Ace was nearly salivating. “Who’s the new girl?”

  The bartender looked up. “Don’t know her. She’s never been in here before.”

  “You sure?”

  Benny grinned. “Believe me, Ace. I’d remember that one.”

  “Yeah.” Ace sipped his beer and continued to watch as the cowboy strutted around the table, making a few miserable shots, and accepting praise from the girl who didn’t even know which end of the stick to use when it was her turn. By accident she managed to sink another ball, winning the game.

  As he handed her some money, the cowboy put an arm around her shoulder and whispered something that had her smiling and looking up into his eyes while shaking her head in refusal.

  Ace couldn’t help grinning. He turned to Cody, who was watching without expression. “I’ll give her this much. Even when she refuses a guy’s offer, she does it so sweetly he goes away feeling like he might have another chance.”

  Cody grinned and nodded.

  Ace watched as the cowboy took a seat across the room, while one of his buddies stepped up and offered to teach the redhead how to play the game for twenty bucks.

  Ace turned to his old friend. “Can I buy you a beer, Boone?”

  Boone shook his head. “Thanks anyway, Ace. Think I’ll go home and call Barb.”

  As he strolled out, Ace turned to Cody. “Ready for another?”

  “Not yet. Think I’ll nurse this one awhile.”

  Ace ordered himself another beer and leaned his back against the bar, watching the second cowboy make his moves on the redhead. It was proving to be the best show of the night.

  Ally Brady ducked into the ladies’ room. After closing and locking the stall door, she pulled the wad of bills from her pocket and began to count them.

  Eighty dollars. Not bad for a start. She’d likely use every bit of it to make what she needed before she went home tonight. And she’d located her mark. The cowboy sitting at the bar.

  The minute he’d walked in, she’d spotted him. Even though he was dressed like all the others, in faded denims and a plaid shirt, he smelled like money. His boots may be dusty, but they were custom. She figured they cost him a thousand dollars or more. That made him fair game. She wouldn’t be relieving him of his pay check. She’d simply be denying him his next pair of luxury boots. That ought to soothe any guilt she might have for what she was about to do.

  She grinned and carefully divided the money, putting half in one pocket, the other half in her boot. Then she fluffed her hair, wet her lips, and
sauntered back to the pool room.

  The crowd had gotten louder. There was a crush of people milling about the bar and pool tables. Cowboys eager to spend their hard-earned paychecks. And girls from the town hoping they’d spend at least a little on them.

  In one corner of the room there was a raised dance floor, ringed by high-top bar tables and stools. The music had been cranked up to a deafening sound, and several couples were already dancing while others were getting up their nerve.

  As Ally started past the line of men at the bar, she noted that the waitress was just turning away from her station with a full tray of drinks. If she was going to make her move, now was the time. Taking a deep breath, she charged full-speed ahead. She and the waitress were seconds from colliding when a hand darted out and caught Ally by the arm, dragging her out of the way. The waitress, unaware of what had nearly happened, sailed on past.

  Ally had counted on the cowboy coming to her rescue. What she hadn’t counted on was being imprisoned between a pair of muscular, jean-clad legs. She looked up to see the cowboy staring down at her with the most charming smile. He was casually straddling the bar stool, one hand resting on his knee, the other still grasping her upper arm with a strength that caught her by surprise.

  “Sorry, Red.” His voice was low. “Didn’t mean to startle you. But I wasn’t sure you’d like to find yourself wearing all those drinks.”

  “Thanks.” She reached out a hand to steady herself and came in contact with a chest of solid muscle. Something else she hadn’t planned. Even after she moved her hand away and lowered it to her side, she could feel her fingers tingling from the touch of him.

  Aware of the intimacy, not to mention the awkwardness of their positions, she took a step back. “I owe you for that.” She looked up. “Can I buy you a drink?”

  He hadn’t been expecting those eyes. Green, with little flecks of gold. Or the reaction he’d felt from that simple touch. Like icy needles down his spine, and then a sudden surge of heat through his veins. “No thanks. I have a beer. Can I buy you one, Red?”

  She gritted her teeth at the nickname, but managed to keep her smile in place. “All right.”

  Ace motioned to the bartender, who placed another long neck in front of him. When he handed it to her, he deliberately allowed his fingers to brush hers, to see if the reaction would be the same.

  It was. Only more intense.

  Intrigued, he curled his hand around his beer and studied her. He nodded toward the dance floor. “Want to dance?”

  She shook her head. “I’m not much for dancing.” She glanced toward the pool tables. “Do you play?”

  “Now and again.”

  “I’m learning the game.”

  He kept himself from grinning. “I noticed. How are you enjoying it so far?”

  “It’s fun. Of course, it’d be easier if I could just roll the balls into the holes with my hands.”

  He laughed. “Yeah. It’s a lot harder using a stick. But that’s the challenge.”

  She gave him a big, friendly smile. “Want to play one game?”

  When he started to shrug his shoulders she added, “Loser can buy the beer.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t want to take your money, Red.”

  “Oh. I get it.” She put a hand on her hip. “Is it because you’re so good? Or because I’m so bad?”

  “Hey, I didn’t mean…” He paused. Then nodded his head reluctantly. “Okay. Come on. One game. Loser buys.”

  As he trailed her to the tables, Ace reminded himself to take it easy on her. It was obvious that she didn’t know the first thing about the game. He didn’t want to embarrass her.

  It took her almost five minutes to gather up the balls and place them in the rack. Another five to remove it, because they kept rolling apart. Finally she turned to Ace with a shy smile. “You’d better do that thing they do to scatter the balls.”

  “Break,” he reminded her.

  “Yeah. That break thing. If I try it, I might miss completely.”

  With the ease of one who had been doing this for a lifetime he set the cue ball on the opposite end of the table and lined it up, then shot it, scattering the balls. He was good enough to see that none of the balls fell into the pockets. That way, she’d have a fighting chance.

  “Your shot, Red.”

  “Which ones should I aim for?”

  “Your call. Since none are in the pocket yet, you can choose.”

  “I like those little striped balls. I guess I’ll aim for them.” She picked up a stick and leaned over the table.

  “Wait a minute.” Ace slid the stick from her hands and turned it around, then handed it back to her. “You use this end to shoot. The other end stays in your hand.”

  “Oh. Yeah.” She gave him a big friendly smile. “Thanks.”

  As she draped herself over the table, Ace stood back to admire the view.

  “Oh, look.” She was dancing up and down, though in truth he didn’t know why. He’d been so intent on enjoying himself, he’d forgotten to watch her shot. “I got one of those striped balls in the hole.”

  “Pocket.”

  “Yeah.” She laughed. “So, do I get to play again?”

  “Shoot. You get to shoot again.”

  “Whatever.” She turned away and Ace picked up his beer. While she wiggled her way around the table, he pressed the frosty bottle to his temple to cool the heat that was spiralling through him.

  “I did it again.”

  “That’s good. Want to try for a third?”

  “Can I?”

  He grinned. “You keep shooting until you miss. Then it’s my turn.”

  “Oh. All right.” She walked around the table, study ing the balls, then chose a spot directly in front of him. Leaning over the table, she aimed and missed.

  “Oooh. Darn.” She picked up her beer and stepped aside.

  “That was really good.” If not the shot, at least the form was perfect.

  Ace cautioned himself not to show off. He dropped two balls and deliberately missed the next.

  And so it went. Ace would sink a ball, then force himself to miss his next shot. And though his opponent managed to sink a couple by accident, it was no contest. When the game ended, she gallantly walked to the bar and ordered him a beer.

  “How about you?” he asked.

  She held hers up. “I haven’t finished this one yet.”

  “Okay.” He lifted his, drank. “Thanks, Red.” He motioned toward the dance floor. “Ready for that dance yet?”

  She shook her head, sending the cloud of red hair dancing around her face and shoulders in the most beguiling way. “Not yet. But I’d really love to learn how you do that break thing.”

  He shrugged. “Okay.” He gathered up the balls and placed them in the triangular rack, setting them up, then motioned for her to come to the opposite end of the table. “As long as you’re determined to play, you may as well learn the proper way to hold that stick.” He stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her. The minute he did, he realized his mistake. Up close she smelled of something spicy, like a drug that went straight to his head. His heart seemed to fill his chest. He felt as though an entire herd of buffalo was trampling him. It hurt to breathe. And he was so hot, the sweat was beading on his forehead. But it was too late to pull away. Gamely he forced his attention to the position of her hand on the table. “You use this hand to guide the stick. And this one to propel it. Like this.” He closed his one hand over hers, then moved her other hand holding the stick. Every movement had him sweating more.

  “I see.” She turned her face just enough so that her cheek managed to brush his lips.

  He could actually feel the flutter of her eyelash against his temple. His heart started racing like a runaway train. The press of her body against his had his entire system working overtime. If he didn’t break contact right now, this instant, he was going to embarrass himself in front of everybody in Clancy’s.

  He released her and took a
step back.

  “There are a couple of things you want to think about before you break. First of all, you don’t want to just scatter the balls.”

  “I don’t?” She looked at him with those big green eyes.

  He felt a quick sexual tug and took another step back. “No. You want to consider which balls you want to sink. And you also want to leave as few openings as possible for your opponent.”

  “You make it sound like a chess game.”

  “It is, in a way. It’s as much strategy as skill. You’ve got to outthink your opponent.”

  She pursed her lips. “So much to think about. I’d rather just close my eyes and hope I hit something.”

  “Yeah. Well. That’s fine, as long as you’re playing for fun. But if you’re playing for money, you can’t afford to close your eyes and hope.”

  “Can we play for money this time?”

  He shot her a look. “You just lost and had to buy me a beer. Why would you want to punish yourself again?”

  “It’s the only way I’ll ever really learn this game.” She glanced at him, then away. “Unless you think I’m so lousy at this that I’m beyond teaching.”

  “Hey. I don’t think that at all.” At her look of disappointment he relented. “Okay. Five bucks.”

  “Ten,” she said. “And I’ll let you break. I just know I wouldn’t be any good at it.”

  He was shaking his head as he drove the cue ball into the others, sending them flying. Two balls rolled into the pocket, and he cursed himself for his carelessness. He’d have to be more careful, or he might win by accident.

  “Does that mean you get another turn?” she asked softly.

  “Yeah.” He took aim and deliberately missed the next ball. “Now it’s your turn. You’re shooting stripes.”

  “Oh, good. They’re the ones I like.” She draped herself over the table and took careful aim. When the ball dropped into the pocket she wiggled her whole body like a happy puppy. “I can’t believe it. Look. I actually did it.”

  “Yeah.” Ace couldn’t help grinning, even though her antics had him sweating again. Even from a distance there was no way to forget the feeling of her body against his. “Now you just have to do it again and again, until the table’s empty.”