Free The Rancher's Dance by Allison Leigh Page B

night air.
    The music from inside the bar was muted only slightly.He shoved his hands through his hair and sat down on the bench that faced the empty street.
    He sighed and stared down at the wedding ring on his hand.
    He’d hawked his beater of a car when he was eighteen to buy their plain gold wedding rings, and twenty-one years later, he was still wearing it.
    Aside from a wristwatch, it was the only jewelry he’d ever worn. He curled his hand into a fist. For so long the ring had been as much a part of him as the finger it circled.
    â€œYou all right?”
    He jerked and looked up.
    Lucy was standing beside him, holding two longnecks in her hand.
    â€œYou make a habit of sneaking up on men?”
    Instead of being put off by his terseness, her lips curved faintly, though not really with amusement. “Apparently so.” Her voice was mild and she held out one of the beer bottles. “Want it?”
    He wanted lots of things, most of which began and ended with a grave in Colorado. If he hadn’t had Nick and Shelby to consider, he’d have come close to climbing in one, too.
    But he hadn’t. And he was here. And an annoyingly appealing woman was standing nearby, filling his senses with more life than he wanted to acknowledge.
    But he unfisted his hand and closed it around the cold bottle anyway. “Drinking on a public street’s probably frowned on around these parts.”
    â€œProbably.” She twisted open her beer and sat down beside him. “But I’ve got family connections to the sheriff.” She softly clinked the bottom of her bottle against his. “No worries.”
    Even if she didn’t have connections, what was the worst that would happen? He’d get a ticket?
    Small potatoes in the scheme of things.
    He opened his own beer.
    And they sat there in silence for several minutes while the muted music from inside throbbed through the wooden bench beneath them.
    He stared at the park across the street. There were some kids chasing each other around and their carefree laughter floated on the air.
    â€œThere’s a pavilion over there in the park where the teenagers go to neck,” she said. “At least they used to when I grew up here.”
    He didn’t look at her. It had been so long since he’d carried on a conversation having nothing to do with his family or work that he could practically taste the rust. “Did you?”
    â€œNeck? Sure. A few times.” She held the bottle loosely between her fingers and swirled it around a little.
    He noticed, though, that she didn’t drink much of it.
    The beer had just been an excuse.
    To come out here.
    With him.
    Knowing it was one thing. Knowing what to do about it was another. And he wasn’t even going to touch how he felt about it with a ten-foot pole.
    â€œI’m sorry about your wife, Beck.”
    He went still.
    Dozens…maybe even hundreds…of people had offered the same sentiment over the past three years. His employees at the architectural firm that he’d walked away from. His friends. His family. Even near strangers. He should be used to hearing it by now.
    God knows he’d gotten used to saying the usual “thank you” and moving on as quickly as possible.
    Instead, the words that he heard coming out of his lips weren’t usual at all. “I loved her.”
    His jaw tightened and he stared even harder at the park across the street. He couldn’t see the kids over there anymore. Maybe they’d gone to the pavilion. Maybe they’d just gone home.
    â€œThat’s the way it should be.” Lucy’s voice was soft.
    Wistful.
    He looked over at her. She was watching the park, too, her long hair streaming over one slender shoulder.
    â€œWhat do you want from me?”
    He knew what his body wanted from her —something he had no intention of indulging which was why it was better all around if he stayed away from her. He hadn’t