Free The Last Cowboy Standing by Barbara Dunlop Page A

sarcasm.
    “I’m the competition, and he knows it.”
    “Oh, get over yourself.”
    “I kissed you, and he didn’t.”
    “I used to date him, Travis.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted them.
    Travis shifted on the bench. “I mean lately.”
    “Okay, no,” she backpedaled. “He hasn’t kissed me lately. Not in five years, as a matter of fact.”
    Travis took another, tentative sip of the drink, turning up his nose again. “Whereas, I kissed you last night. And he can tell it by my swagger.”
    “That’s crazy.” She tried for a haughty tone, but her words came out breathy as memories of the kiss bloomed in her mind.
    Her body’s reaction was nearly as strong as it had been in the garden, making her grateful to be in the middle of a crowd. Since, it was frighteningly tempting to do it again.
    “What do you think he wanted to talk about?” Travis asked.
    She pulled herself back from the unbidden fantasy. “He thinks I’m insulting Nester and Hedley by not snapping up their offer. He believes, and he’s right, that they’re the most prestigious law firm in D.C., and people would crawl over broken glass for the chance they’re giving me.”
    “Doesn’t mean it’s right for you.”
    “Doesn’t mean it’s wrong.”
    Travis seemed to give that some thought. “Did he have anything to do with you getting the offer?”
    “He says not.” She took another drink.
    “He also said he has a serious girlfriend.”
    “We have no evidence to suggest otherwise.”
    “Oh, yes, we do.”
    She pinned him with a dubious stare. “You are by far the most clairvoyant cowboy I have ever met.”
    “Doesn’t take a mind reader to see what that guy’s thinking.”
    Before she could respond, a neatly dressed waiter appeared in front of them. “Kobe beef sliders?” he asked, holding a silver tray out to Danielle.
    “Yes, please,” she answered, realizing she was hungry. She helped herself to a cocktail napkin and one of the mini burgers.
    Travis took two.
    “If I don’t eat something soon,” said Danielle. “You’ll have to pour me into bed.”
    The waiter quirked an amused smile as he backed away, and she realized how the words sounded.
    She glanced at Travis. “I didn’t mean...”
    He grinned at her embarrassment. “I know what you meant.”
    A second waiter arrived, this one carrying a tray of champagne. At his offer, Danielle held up her half-full superior court and shook her head.
    “Any chance I can exchange this for a beer?” Travis asked.
    “Of course, sir.” The waiter took his drink.
    “Anything from DFB,” said Travis.
    “I’ll be right back.”
    “You’re very loyal,” Danielle couldn’t help but note as the waiter disappeared.
    “Zach makes very good beer.”
    “Lots of companies make very good beer.”
    “Lots of companies aren’t co-owned by my brother-in-law and the man who’s engaged to my cousin.”
    “Unusually loyal,” said Danielle, biting into the burger.
    “And you’re not?” asked Travis. “Don’t they make lawyers take some kind of an oath?”
    “That’s confidentiality. And that’s a professional relationship, not something lifelong like family.”
    Travis’s tone turned curious. “What about your family?”
    “What about them?”
    “Are you close? You must be loyal to them.” He examined one of the tiny burgers, biting off half.
    “Loyal? Of course. Close? Well, we’re not exactly that kind of family.”
    “What kind of family are you?”
    “Just me and my parents.”
    “Are they lawyers?”
    “They have law degrees, but they’re corporate executives in New York City. Dad works in Midtown for a transportation conglomerate. Mom’s downtown at an international fashion chain.”
    “Do you see them often?”
    “Not really. We’re not a, you know, Sunday dinner in the suburbs, confide your deepest secrets kind of family. We’re all pretty self-sufficient.”
    He looked curious. “What does self-sufficient mean?”
    She