Free Blame It on the Cowboy by Delores Fossen Page A

list, but that kiss had pretty much put to bed any doubts she’d had. And it had just been the start.
    Logan had initiated the second kiss, in the elevator as they’d headed up to the room. In fact, the kiss had gotten so scalding hot that his hand had ended up under her top, his leg between hers, and there was a whole lot of pressure from his body pressing hers against the elevator door.
    That’d been incredible until the door opened, and they’d tumbled out into the hall and landed on their butts.
    The clumsiness hadn’t stopped there. Nope. They had been so busy kissing and grappling at each other that they’d banged into the wall outside her room, once with such precision that they’d nearly had accidental sex in the hall.
    Even now in the dream, Reese could still feel that hunger. Hunger she hadn’t even known was there. And there were sounds that had never been in the dream before, either. Knocking sounds. It was almost as if Logan and she were having sex against the wall, after all.
    Or not.
    Because the dream changed. Not to sex with Logan but to another part of her life. One she didn’t want to remember. But she did.
    Spenser.
    It was hard to hide from memories in a dream because they chased you down, chewed you up, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.
    But the sound stopped it. And the sound wasn’t part of the dream this time. Definitely not Logan. That became clear when she heard someone call out her name. Her real name. Logan had only called her Julia that night. And whoever was calling out her name now was also knocking on her door.
    Jimena.
    For a moment, Reese thought her friend might be part of the dream, as well. She staggered out of bed and went to the door, checking the time along the way. It was close to midnight.
    And it was Jimena, all right.
    â€œFood pimp,” Jimena said, holding up several large grocery bags. She came in, looked around. Not that she had to look far to take it all in. It was only about two hundred feet of space for the kitchen, bed, sitting area and bathroom.
    â€œUh, what are you doing here?” Reese asked.
    Not that she wasn’t happy to see her, but when Jimena had dropped Reese off in Spring Hill four days ago, Jimena had said she was heading back to Houston to see some old friends. When they’d spoken on the phone earlier that morning, Jimena hadn’t mentioned anything about a visit.
    â€œI’m here to help you.” Jimena handed her the bags of groceries, which Reese was certain contained nothing but junk food. She closed the door, took Reese by the hand and led her to the window.
    â€œSee that guy?” Jimena asked.
    There were streetlights, but it still took Reese several moments to pick through the night and see the man in the back parking lot of the McCord building. Definitely not Lucky or Logan.
    â€œWho is he?” Reese wanted to know.
    â€œSome guy I met at a bar in San Antonio. His name is Elrond—you know like in Lord of the Rings ? His dad was a huge fan. I know, I violated my bucket rule of making my way through the alphabet. I was up to the I ’s, but all the I -guys I met didn’t do anything for me. Anyway, Elrond’s a great kisser, but he’s got something even better in his jeans.”
    Reese groaned. She was so not in the mood for one of Jimena’s sex spill-alls. “I have the breakfast shift at the café. I have to be at work in six hours.”
    â€œWell, this shouldn’t take long at all.” She pointed to Elrond again. “He’s got a key to the McCord building.”
    Instant suspicion.
    Of course Reese had told Jimena about her Lucky/Logan dilemma, but she certainly hadn’t expected Jimena to do anything about it. Especially anything illegal.
    â€œDid he steal the key?” Reese asked.
    â€œNo. He was doing some renovations for the McCords a while back and forgot to return the key. I figured you could use it to look for