This cowboy can make any girl melt!

Montana in December is cold. Still, struggling actress Lila Loveridge is committed to the independent movie they’re shooting—despite frigid temperatures, an empty wallet and a sneaking suspicion that her acting career has frozen in its tracks. Good thing there’s a Montana cowboy hot enough to keep her warm.

Rancher Clint Landers is one tall, lean and sizzling specimen, and before long, Lila is shivering with pleasure. Their chemistry is impossible to resist. But while every night is deliciously wicked, every day is a reminder that they can’t have a future together. Because in order for Lila to follow her dream, she’ll have to leave her sexy cowboy behind...

“I hope you’re not one of those black-widow serial killers.”

“You found me out,” Lila said. “Now I’m going to kiss you to death.”

“You sound awfully chipper when you talk about murder,” Clint said, well aware that he’d stopped trying to get her to open up to him.

Avoiding the gearshift, she pressed against him, parting her lips and welcoming his tongue. The sweet taste of her mouth lured him closer, deeper.

Finally she pulled back. “Thanks,” she said, looking him in the eyes, “for offering to listen. I need this more.”

Absorbing the meaning behind her words, he nodded slowly.

He was her distraction. Not that he felt used. For whatever reason she felt safe with him, confident that he understood this was just a fling. That it would all come to an end the day the movie wrapped up and she left.

She’d said she needed this, and he was happy to give it to her. Hell, he’d give her anything she wanted for as long as she’d let him.

He cupped her chin and brought her face closer. “Kiss me.”

Dear Reader,

A few months ago, the town of Blackfoot Falls got shaken up by a movie being shot in the area—a story you can read in my previous book, Wild for You. In Hot Winter Nights, the movie crew has moved camp to a mile outside of town. Local cowboys have caught the acting bug and are lining up to be hired as extras in the Western indie film. Not so for Clint Landers, the younger brother of Nathan Landers from Behind Closed Doors. Clint wants no part of the Hollywood scene, and no one can convince him otherwise. That is, until he delivers a trailer of horses to the set and meets hair and makeup artist Lila Loveridge. Before too long poor Clint is gritting his teeth and agreeing to a lot more than he bargained for, all in the hope that lovely Lila will be waiting for him at the other end of the Big Sky Country rainbow. What he doesn’t know is that Lila is more than willing to share some special effects with the hotter-than-hot cowboy.

A couple years back, one of the reality shows that had to do with makeovers came to shoot an episode in the small town where I live. The cast and their huge painted bus were here for at least a day, maybe two. I don’t know for sure because I stayed in hiding for a week...just to be on the safe side. Yeah, cameras and I don’t get along. And now they’re in most cell phones and tablets. I’m trying not to take it personally.

Happy reading!

Debbi Rawlins

Hot Winter Nights

Debbi Rawlins

www.millsandboon.co.uk

DEBBI RAWLINS grew up in the country and loves Western movies and books. Her first crush was on a cowboy—okay, he was an actor in the role of a cowboy, but she was only eleven, so it counts. It was Houston, Texas, where she first started writing for Harlequin, and now she has her own ranch...of sorts. Instead of horses, she has four dogs, four cats, a trio of goats and free-range cattle on a few acres in gorgeous rural Utah.

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Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Extract

Copyright

1

“YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO be dead.” Staring over the woman’s shoulder, Lila Loveridge stopped in the middle of touching up Penelope’s dark roots.

“Don’t sound so disappointed.” Penelope picked up the script, with the revisions marked in a brilliant pink, and held it against her chest. “You’re not supposed to see that, anyway.”

Oh, for goodness’ sake, she’d left it in plain sight on her lap. It was obvious she wanted her to see. “When did Jason make those changes?”

“I shouldn’t be discussing this with you,” Penelope said with her usual air of superiority, which was one of the many reasons the film crew didn’t like her.

An icy gust shook the small trailer, and Lila shivered. The cold December wind that had been sweeping down from the Rockies for three days straight had everyone grumbling. They should’ve been wrapping up and getting out of Montana by now. Not camped a mile outside the small town of Blackfoot Falls, the ragtag trailers where they worked and slept powered by generators that could barely keep up with the frigid overnight temperatures.

On top of all that, they were three weeks behind schedule.

Of course delays were to be expected in the movie business. But that hadn’t stopped morale from plummeting more and more each day as they got closer to Christmas. All the changes to both script and routine brought on by their new investor sure hadn’t helped.

Penelope cleared her throat.

Lila glanced at her. “Did you say something?”

“I said, since you already saw the pink pages, I might as well tell you. The director thought I interpreted the role of Dominique so masterfully he said it would be a crime for my character not to be in the sequel.”

Translation—Jason was still sleeping with her.

It wasn’t news. Everyone on the set knew what was going on between the director and the leading lady. But for him to suddenly change the last scene of the movie? That was going to cost their small, undercapitalized, independent film more money. What on earth had he been thinking?

This wasn’t like him. Lila had known Jason for almost ten years. She and her friend Erin had met him in film school. Lila truly hoped this sudden change had nothing to do with the new investor. Or with Erin’s subdued mood.

No, if Erin knew something about the last-minute revisions, she would’ve passed it on. They’d been friends since the third grade. They told each other everything.

“Look, if my character ends up in the sequel, that shouldn’t impact your role. You’re only slated to be a supporting actress, after all. It’ll be quite a break for someone like you.”

Lila looked at Penelope with half her dark roots still showing and tried not to laugh. Sad, really. If Penelope didn’t have a script in front of her, she was hopeless. Invariably she’d say something tactless or embarrassing.

“I’m not worried,” Lila said, and dipped the brush into the dye solution. Frankly, it hadn’t occurred to her. She was more concerned about making it home to spend the holidays with her family. “Has Jason mentioned anything about breaking for Christmas?”

Penelope checked her watch, ignoring Lila, as usual. “Would you hurry this up? I have a dinner date.”

“Going to the diner?”

Penelope met her eyes in the mirror. Miracle of all miracles—she laughed, instead of looking as if all crew members were barely tolerable. “I honestly don’t understand how anyone can live in this town.”

“Oh, I don’t know. The place has a certain charm.” Lila meant it, even though she’d grown up in Southern California. The people in Blackfoot Falls were friendly, and of course curious.

Clearly Penelope interpreted the comment as sarcasm and mistook Lila for a kindred spirit. With a little smile, Penelope went back to reading the script changes.

Fine with Lila. She didn’t want to make small talk. She preferred having the time to think. If she could finagle four days off, she could get home for Christmas. It wouldn’t be easy. The round-trip drive would leave her with only a day and a half with the family. Flying was out of the question since she was almost broke.

The quick turnaround wasn’t ideal, but it would be worth it. She’d already missed decorating the house with her mom and sister. Even though she knew that some people thought it was silly, not being with her family, everyone singing carols while they cooked Christmas dinner together, was unimaginable. Her brother’s wife, Cheryl, had joined the tradition last year. For Lila, Christmas and home were synonymous.

Just as she applied more solution to Penelope’s dark regrowth, a scream pierced the low hum of the crowd milling around outside.

People started yelling.

“What was that?” Penelope pushed to get up, then must’ve remembered what she looked like with her hair plastered to her head and sank down again.

“I don’t know.” Lila rushed to the window, couldn’t see anything, so she went to the door.

“What is it?”

“I can’t tell.” Lila tried to see past a crowd of extras blocking her view. “Hold on a second.” She pulled off the plastic gloves and took the three rickety steps, her beat-up Nikes touching the hard ground just as she heard the distressed neighs of a horse.

“Stand back, everyone. No one needs to get hurt.” The man’s deep, steady voice drifted in the chill air as smooth as fine, warm brandy.

“Right now, people.” That was Erin, from somewhere in the direction of the catering truck. “Give him room.”

Lila found a narrow gap in the crowd and pushed through.

A beautiful black horse reared and let out a high, extended whinny. He wasn’t penned or tethered but cornered by a cowboy with longish dark hair, wearing a tan hat with the brim pulled low. The man threw a rope around the horse’s neck, and the animal tossed its head and stamped the ground.

A collective murmur rose from the crowd.

“You know who that stallion belongs to?”

Lila turned to the unfamiliar voice behind her. But the older, bearded man wasn’t talking to her.

“Nope,” the guy next to him replied. He smiled at her and touched the brim of his hat. “Afternoon, ma’am.”

They were probably locals hired as extras. Quite a few were standing by, waiting to be called for the next scene.

Lila returned his smile, then resumed watching the scene unfolding in front of her.

Moving in slowly, the cowboy whispered something to the horse. He didn’t stop, just kept speaking in a low, hushed voice. Whatever it was, the stallion began to calm down.

“Is that Clint Landers? I think it is. I see his Whispering Pines trailer over there.”

Lila shuddered. Partly because the stallion had a fierce look about him, but there was something about the tall, lean cowboy that had her wrapping her arms around herself to ward off another shiver.

Stepping aside, she turned to the two men. “Do you know what happened?”

“That black broke loose. Someone didn’t tether him proper. He should’ve been left in the corral.”

“What’s the Whispering Pines?” she asked just as she spotted the white horse trailer.

“It’s the Landers family’s ranch,” the bearded man said. “That fella with the stallion is Clint Landers.”

Hmm. He looked to be in his early thirties. Probably married.

“Are you an actress?” The younger guy hadn’t stopped staring at her.

“Not exactly,” she said. “I do hair and makeup.”

“Well, that’s not right. You’re too gorgeous not to be a movie star.”

She just smiled and turned to watch the cowboy. She could’ve told him she was an actress. It was the truth. She just wasn’t acting in this particular film. But she’d played a few bit parts here and there, and soon enough she would make the transition from struggling wannabe to an honest-to-goodness, card-carrying member of the Screen Actors Guild. But lately, probably because of how tired she was, how tired everyone was, she wasn’t quite as thrilled as she had been about her long-held dream.

The action had died down. The cowboy and the horse seemed to have reached an understanding, and the crowd started to thin.

Clint Landers.

Huh. For some reason she thought the name suited him. He was still talking to the animal in a hushed tone, and she stepped closer, wishing she could hear his voice again.

“Ma’am?”

She stopped and turned.

The bearded man had left, but the younger one, who was about her age, stood there, hat in hand. “My name is Brady.” He had a great smile. “Sorry about sounding like a starstruck hayseed.”

“I’m Lila,” she said, but didn’t extend her hand. It was too darn cold. Instead, she hugged herself tighter. “You paid me a compliment. I should have thanked you.”

“Ah, no worries. You must hear stuff like that all the time.”

She did, but she wasn’t about to admit it, so she just smiled. After six years of trying to make it in this brutal business, she’d made peace with comments like his. But she had done nothing to earn her looks, and lucky for her, she’d been raised to believe praise was reserved for merit.

“Are you staying in town?” Brady asked.

“No. Most of us are camped out here.” She spotted Erin and waved to get her attention. “I’m sorry, Brady, I’m actually working. Would you excuse me, please?”

“Sure.” His smile faded as he stumbled back a step.

Erin walked up. “Are you an extra?” she asked him, and he nodded. “The director needs you on the set.”

“Yes, ma’am. Bye, Lila. I hope to see you around,” he said and jogged off.

“Yet another heart you’ve broken,” Erin muttered, watching him for a moment. “He’s cute.”

“Yes. But the guy with the horse? Holy cow.” Lila ignored her friend and watched Clint lead the horse toward the corrals. “I wonder if he’s married?”

“Clint?” Erin gave her a long look. “Why, Lila Loveridge, I’m shocked. Are you interested in that cowboy?”

Lila frowned at her. “You know him?”

“Not really. I signed for some stock he’s delivering. Seems like a nice guy. I was about to go thank him for saving our asses. Want to come with?” Erin’s grin died as she looked past her. “What the hell is he doing?”

Lila saw right away that she meant Baxter, the new investor’s nephew, with whom the crew was supposed to play nice. He was headed toward the corrals with a scowl on his pasty face. Another annoying person with an ego issue. He and Penelope would make a good—

Penelope.

Lila glanced toward the trailer. She’d completely forgotten about her. Tough. Erin was already on the move, and Lila wasn’t going to miss this.

“I’m gonna kill him,” Erin muttered, walking fast and glaring ahead as Baxter approached Clint.

“Please do. For everyone’s sake.”

Baxter was of average height, had a pudgy build and apparently lacked enough sense to stay out of the much taller man’s face.

“Look, pal, if you can’t control your animals, we’ll find a supplier who can.” Baxter’s loud warning reached everyone within a five-yard radius, which was clearly his intention.

Clint barely spared him a glance before turning back to stroke the horse’s neck, as if he’d never been interrupted. Without a word, he unlatched the corral gate.

“Baxter,” Erin yelled. “Stop. Now.”

Lila bit back a smile. He was no match for Erin, and he knew it. In fact, Baxter was afraid of her. And he got no sympathy whatsoever from Lila. In the week since he’d joined the crew, he’d hit on her so many times, it had gone from annoying to creepy.

Baxter shot them a nervous look, then took in the group of curious bystanders. He squared his shoulders and again faced Clint, who was basically ignoring everything around him while he got the horse safely inside the empty corral.

“I’m so tempted to let the jerk get his lights punched out,” Erin said in a low voice as they approached the two men. “It was Todd’s fault the horse got loose, so cool it, Baxter. The animal doesn’t even belong to Mr. Landers.” Erin stopped, and Lila almost rammed into her.

Up close, Clint Landers was even better looking. Beard stubble darkened his square jaw and almost hid the dimple in his chin. His bottom lip was considerably fuller than his upper one, which appealed to Lila in a big way. She worked with a lot of smoking hot guys, but she couldn’t recall the last time one of them made her feel all tingly inside.

“We’re damn lucky he was there,” Erin was saying. The smile she’d given Clint vanished as she switched her focus to Baxter. “We owe him our thanks, and an apology from you.”

Baxter’s pale face flamed.

Erin wouldn’t give an inch. Her glare narrowed meaningfully. Advising everyone to play nice excluded her and Jason.

“Hey, it was an honest mistake,” Clint said, making sure the gate was latched before pulling off a leather work glove and extending his hand to Baxter. “No harm done.”

Baxter hesitated, clearly unwilling to give in. But it was equally clear that he had no choice. What an idiot.

He made sure everyone watching caught his condescending smirk before he stuck out his hand. Clint clasped it and gave Baxter a couple of firm pumps. Baxter looked as though he was about to choke. If his face had been red before, now it was turning scarlet.

Clint pumped his hand a couple more times. “No hard feelings...pal,” he said with a big smile and released Baxter’s hand.

He immediately flexed it, while subtly trying to draw in some air.

“I don’t think anything’s broken,” Erin said with a straight face.

Lila pressed her lips together and quickly turned her head. And met Clint Landers’s eyes. They were brown. Light brown with gold flecks. And he had thick dark lashes that took nothing away from his rugged good looks.

The man was positively dreamy.

She needed a little air herself. But she managed to give him a smile without hyperventilating.

“Clint Landers,” he said in the same deep, velvety tone he’d used with the stallion.

“Lila Loveridge.” She stared down at his extended, bone-crushing hand. “Um, I don’t think so.”

“Come on,” he said, amusement curving his mouth in a slow smile. “Live dangerously.”

With a laugh, she dragged a palm down her jeans before letting his large hand engulf hers. His grip was firm, yet gentle. He was the real deal. A genuine cowboy who did physical labor, and with rough, callused palms to prove it. And those muscled arms and shoulders? Not bulk, just lean muscle. Oh yeah, he looked darn fine.

And the other thing about him—he had no problem looking a person directly in the eyes.

“Nice to meet you,” she said, pulling back her hand and lowering her gaze to his chest. “You’re wearing a T-shirt.”

He glanced down. “I am.”

Lila sighed. “It’s December.” Why did the really hot guys always have to be crazy? “And it’s freezing.”

“Also true.” He glanced at the horse. “I was changing in my truck when this guy here decided to make a break for it.” He held out his hand and the horse nuzzled it. “You know if he belongs to Ben Wolf?”

“No, I don’t.” She turned to ask Erin, but one of Jason’s flunkies had pulled her and Baxter aside and was whispering something to the two of them.

Whatever it was, Baxter stopped glaring at her and Clint and gave the young man a sharp look. Then he turned toward the set, where Jason was setting up the next shot. His uncle expected a big return on his investment, and Jason’s word was gospel. The project’s success trumped Baxter’s self-importance. It had to.

“Who’s in charge of looking after the stock?” Clint’s gaze flicked to Baxter. “Not that guy, I hope,” he added in a lowered voice, looking back at her.

“Oh, God, no. That would be Charlie. He’s the head wrangler, and he’s very responsible. I haven’t seen him today, but he should be around... Older guy. White hair. Wears it in a ponytail.” She thought Charlie might be in town, but she glanced around anyway, because staring into Clint’s eyes made it hard to concentrate on anything but him. “I don’t see him. We haven’t had any other incidents with animals getting loose, though.”

“I’d like to speak with him before unloading my trailer.”

“Erin should know where he is.” Lila gestured vaguely, noticing that someone else now had her friend’s ear. Fine with Lila. It gave her more time to check out Clint. “She shouldn’t be long.”

“I’m in no hurry.” He lifted his hat and swept back a long dark lock of hair before settling the brim low on his forehead.

“Are you also an extra?”

“An extra what?”

“I guess not.” She smiled. “You said you were changing your shirt so I thought... We hire local people to be in the movie.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Most people like it. They don’t say any lines and it pays practically nothing, but they get bragging rights. Hey, if you’re interested—”

“No,” he said quickly. “No. No way. Not me.”

“You can’t be camera shy.”

He laughed. “Thanks anyway.”

Lila jumped when someone touched her shoulder. She instinctively recoiled when she saw it was Baxter, but then put on a neutral smile. Some actress she was.

“I need to talk to Mr. Landers,” he said with an obvious lack of enthusiasm.

She looked at Erin who now stood alone, motioning with her head for Lila to join her.

Glancing back at Clint, it was all Lila could do not to sigh. “Well, nice meeting you,” she said and realized she’d already mentioned something to that effect.

They exchanged smiles, and he politely touched the brim of his hat. But it was the dark penetrating look in his eyes that had her heart pounding as she turned and hurried the short distance to Erin.

“Come on,” Erin said with a little smile and started walking toward the trailers that were lined up out of camera range.

“What does Baxter want with him, and where are we going?”

“You’re wearing a T-shirt? Seriously?”

Lila looked at her, and Erin burst out laughing.

“Shut up.” Lila shook her head and then laughed, too.

“On a shitty note, Penelope is on the warpath.”

“Oh. Right. I forgot about her.” God, Lila was tempted to look back at him.

“No. Hell, no.” Clint’s voice had raised some.

Lila and Erin looked at each other, and then they both turned to see him walking away from Baxter, who stared daggers after him. Whatever it was the creep wanted, Lila doubted it was a face full of dust kicked up by Clint’s boots as he strode toward his horse trailer.

“What was that about?” Lila asked.

“Jason wants to use Clint in his next scene and said he wouldn’t take no for an answer,” she said absently.

As Erin continued to stare at Baxter, Lila could almost see the wheels turning in her friend’s head. She and Jason’s new flunky hadn’t gotten along from day one. Baxter was green and unfamiliar with the film industry, while Erin knew just about everything there was to know.

Since college she’d worked nearly every job there was behind the camera. She was supposed to be showing Baxter the ropes, which was probably why she’d been so grumpy lately.

This project was important for their future in the industry. Just like Lila, Erin’s big chance was coming up with the sequel. She’d been promised the first assistant director’s job.

“I know you,” Lila said. “You’re planning something evil.”

Erin smiled. “Who was it that said ‘the enemy of my enemy is my friend’?”

Lila’s gaze went to Clint, his back to them as he pulled on a long-sleeve shirt. “Friend? Oh, I want him for so much more than that.”

2

CLINT PARKED HIS truck close to the circular drive in front of his brother’s house. He got out and lifted a hand to Woody, the foreman, and a pair of Lucky 7 hired men walking toward the bunkhouse. The air was chilly, but he didn’t bother grabbing his jacket since it was a short walk to the fancy wrought-iron gate. He couldn’t stay long, but he had time to kill and something he wanted to get off his chest. Nathan was always a good sounding board.

After letting himself into the small courtyard, he went straight to the front door and wiped the bottoms of his boots on the mat. He rang the bell, glancing around while he waited.

The place looked nice. Even with winter threatening to roll in with a bang, his sister-in-law had spruced up the courtyard with Christmas wreaths and garland. Strings of lights were draped along the stone archway and wrapped around the porch columns.

He liked Beth a lot and not just because she’d been so good for Nathan, bringing him back to life after his first wife’s death. Clint admired Beth for leaving small remembrances of Anne, like her prized roses and topiary garden. Anne had liked everything manicured and perfect, and Beth was the total opposite.

The door opened. “Hey, I didn’t know you were coming over,” Beth said, stepping back to let him inside.

“Yeah, I should’ve called first.”

“Oh, please. You know better. Nathan’s in his office, and I was just putting up some Christmas decorations.”

Clint smelled coffee as he walked into the large foyer. Pinecones and conifer branches littered the cherry console table. A ball of string had fallen to the hardwood floor. He scooped it up and gave it to Beth.

“I decided to make my own wreaths.” She rolled her eyes. “I won’t make that mistake again.”

“I just came from Blackfoot Falls. I saw you have the inn all decked out. It looks nice.”

“Really? You don’t think I went overboard?” she asked, frowning and swiping back wisps of blond hair from her eyes.

His thoughts shot straight to Lila. Not a shocker. He hadn’t been able to shake the image of her the whole ride over. Her hair was a lighter shade of blond than Beth’s, and Lila’s eyes were blue, a real cornflower blue you just didn’t see every day. She was a stunner, the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen in person. Or more like ever. He’d never been a moviegoer or had much time for TV, but if he’d seen her starring in anything, he would’ve remembered.

“I did, didn’t I?” Beth was staring at him. “Was it the lighted Happy Holidays sign? I worried that might be a bit much.”

He frowned, then recalled they’d been talking about the old boardinghouse Beth had bought and converted to an inn. “No,” he said. “It looks nice. Very festive. Sorry, I was thinking about that coffee I smell. Any chance—”

Beth laughed. “Of course. Help yourself.”

Clint continued into the kitchen, poured a mug of the strong brew and took it with him to his brother’s office down the hall. The door was open. Nathan was sitting at his desk working on his laptop.

“Hey, got a minute?”

Nathan looked up. “I thought I heard your voice. Everything okay?”

“Hell, it hasn’t been that long since I’ve visited.” Clint settled in the brown leather chair across from his brother.

“Yeah, but in the middle of a weekday?”

“You got me there.”

Nathan’s cell rang, and Clint gestured for him to go ahead and answer. It dawned on him that he wasn’t exactly sure what he wanted to say. Or even how to broach the subject without sounding as if he was complaining.

Naturally the call was short—bought him all of five seconds.

Clint took a slow sip of coffee, then cradled the warm mug in his hands. “I got the talk from Dad last night.”

Nathan’s eyes narrowed. “Did you tell him you already know storks have nothing to do with it?”

“Hell, no. I’m not sure he and Mom have figured it out yet.”

“They have three grown sons. I think they might’ve put two-and-two together by now.”

“Stop.” Clint shook his head. “There are some things a man just can’t ponder. No matter how old he is.”

“Amen to that. So, last night, was Seth there, too?”

“He’s still in Billings.”

“Partying with his old college buddies?” Nathan’s expression hardened when Clint shrugged. “When does Dad want you to take over?”

“Soon. He’d like an answer by Christmas.”

His brother’s brows shot up, but he quickly masked his surprise. It didn’t matter. Clint knew Nathan had expected him to run Whispering Pines eventually. Everyone did. The ranch had survived everything from droughts to poor financial management to be passed down through five generations of Landerses.

Nathan was two years older and a hard act to follow. He’d begun building the Lucky 7 from practically nothing while he was still in college. And now, at thirty-five, he owned one of the most profitable ranches in the county.

“Did Dad tell you to think about it? Or was that your suggestion?”

“It was mutual. He told me to take some time off, to really think. I don’t see Seth wanting any part of it. Do you?”

Nathan shook his head. “Hell, I don’t know what’s going on with that kid.”

“He’s almost thirty.”

“And acting like he’s ten.”

Clint rubbed his jaw. Man, he needed a shave. “Think it’s time for his two big brothers to have a sit-down with him?”

“Maybe after the holidays. We don’t want to stir things up and ruin Christmas for Mom.”

“Good point.”

“I’m more concerned about you right now.”

“Me?”

Nathan was studying him a little too closely. “You’re not jumping at the chance to take over—” He held up a hand. “And I’m not saying you should. After you quit college, I guess I just assumed you missed ranching.”

“So did I, but...” Clint hesitated. Damn, he should’ve thought this thing through. Not five minutes ago he’d realized he wasn’t prepared. He could’ve talked about the weather, the Denver Broncos making it to the playoffs, the price of alfalfa... The last thing he wanted was to make Nathan feel guilty for breaking tradition. The oldest son had always taken the reins. But that didn’t mean anything.

Yep, Clint should’ve waited. Although the talk with his dad had completely caught him off guard, and he’d been having trouble thinking straight, or about anything else—that was until he’d met Lila.

“Did you ever think about doing anything other than ranching?”

Nathan leaned back in his chair. “No, I haven’t. But clearly you have.”

“No. Well, nothing specific. It’s just getting pretty real is all. It’s a damn serious commitment.”

“Hell, you’ve been in charge since before Dad made you foreman,” Nathan said. “The men go to you when they need something, and we both know Dad likes it that way. Making it official won’t change much. Unless there’s something else you’re not saying?”

“That’s just it. I don’t feel as though I’d be losing out on anything, but I don’t want to just slide in because it’s what’s expected of me either. On the other hand, if I don’t step up and Dad were to get sick again, or if Seth doesn’t come around and start pulling his weight, I’d feel like shit.”

“I understand,” Nathan said. “So would I, but it didn’t stop me from building the ranch I wanted.”

Clint just nodded, but that was the difference between him and Nathan. His brother had always known what he wanted, and Clint wasn’t sure. He still loved ranching, and it would kill him if anyone but a Landers owned the land. Wasn’t that enough reason for him to step up? He’d never been commitment-phobic, so why was the thought of sealing his future making him twitchy?

“Sorry to interrupt.” Beth poked her head in. “I’m going to run into town for some ribbon. Do you need anything?”

“Blackfoot Falls or Twin Creeks?” Nathan asked with an amused gleam in his eye. Twin Creeks was closer to the Lucky 7 but half the size of Blackfoot Falls.

“Oh, please... Blackfoot Falls, of course. Who knows?” She batted her lashes. “I might get discovered.”

Clint shot a look at his brother. The night Anne had died in the accident, she’d sneaked off to audition for a play.

Nathan didn’t seem bothered, he just laughed. “Well, you call me before you sign any contracts.”

“Deal,” she said, padding in to give him a quick kiss. “Text me if you think of anything you want.” On her way out, she squeezed Clint’s shoulder. “We’re having chicken and tortilla casserole for supper if you want to stay.”

“Thanks. Another time.” The second she was out of earshot Clint grinned at his brother. “She’s got you eating casseroles?”

Grunting, Nathan leaned back. “Wait till you get married. You’re gonna find yourself doing a lot of crap you swore you wouldn’t do. Hey, you still seeing Kristy?”

“Not for months. It wasn’t going anywhere.” He shrugged. “I think she might have itchy feet. Wouldn’t surprise me if she moved away from Twin Creeks.”

“Is that what’s got you hesitating to take over from Dad?”

“Nah.” Clint shook his head for emphasis. “Anyway, it’s nothing. Just thinking things through.”

“You guys having any financial problems I should know about?”

“Nope.” It was a fair question. Years ago their father had made some poor decisions that had nearly bankrupted them. “We’re in the black.”

“Thanks to you,” Nathan said, his worried pucker beginning to ease. “But I heard you leased horses to the Hollywood people, so it made me wonder.”

“Didn’t do it for the money. Ben Wolf asked me for a favor. They wanted a couple of showy chestnuts. We have geldings with cream-colored manes and tails that fit the bill.” Clint had unloaded the horses without talking to the head wrangler. For some reason, he’d trusted Erin Murphy’s word the runaway stallion was an isolated incident. But he had every intention of driving back later to make sure they weren’t being careless with the animals. “You ever heard of Lila Loveridge?”

Nathan frowned. “Nope. She live around here?”

Clint wished. “She’s an actress. Blonde. About five-eight. I just met her. You and Beth watch more movies than I do, so I figured you might’ve seen her in something.”

“I can look her up,” Nathan said, straightening and reaching for his laptop.

“Nah.” Hell, he should’ve thought of that himself. “She’s so far out of my league, it isn’t funny.”

Even before seeing Nathan’s startled look, Clint regretted the stupid remark. What a dumb-ass thing to say. He’d just made idle curiosity sound like it was a big deal.

Jesus.

“Some jerk asked if I wanted to be in the movie. I wouldn’t have to say anything. Just stand next to a horse and look like a jackass.”

Nathan grinned. “What did you say?”

“What do you think?”

Lucky for him, his brother’s phone rang.

Clint stood. Perfect time to make an exit.

Glancing at the cell, Nathan said, “Sit. It’s only Woody.”

“I’ve got to go.” Clint glanced at his watch and started for the door. “We’ll talk another time.”

“You sure you don’t wanna stay for some of Beth’s casserole? I guarantee she made plenty.”

Clint laughed. “I heard leftovers are even better the next day,” he said on his way out of the office, grinning when he heard his brother curse.

Despite Erin’s assurance, Clint figured he’d go see if the head wrangler had showed up. Although if he was being honest, he wanted to see Lila again.

* * *

THE SUN HADN’T dipped behind the Rockies yet, but the sky was overcast, which meant it would get dark early. Everyone was rushing to make use of the daylight and making more mistakes. It was just one of those days. Lots of small, annoying things had gone wrong, and everyone seemed to be on edge. The two bars in town would likely be hopping tonight.

Lila wasn’t much of a drinker, but even she was considering a trip into town with everyone else. A beer shouldn’t cost too much.

She watched an older man transfer his chew of tobacco from one cheek to the other, and managed not to cringe. Disgusting. In the three months she’d been working on location in cattle country, she’d grown used to many unfamiliar customs. But chewing tobacco? Yuck.

The man was an extra, not an actor, but they were using him for several close-ups during the bar-fight scene. So Lila had been called to the set to make sure his fake injuries were consistent for each shot.

Initially she’d been in charge of hair, and hadn’t done much makeup. But she’d been learning a lot, and she liked having the variety, so she never minded pitching in when they asked for her.

“You need to make the scar longer,” Erin said, studying the photo and then the man’s jaw. “Bring it closer to his ear.”

“I’m back.” Glenda, an intern, showed up to take over.

“Let Lila finish the scar and then—” Erin glared at the man. “Would you stop chewing?”

He stopped.

Lila and Glenda exchanged private smiles. Erin was their hero. She was never mean or petty, but if someone wanted to be coddled, they’d better look elsewhere.

Every film needed someone as smart and efficient as Erin. Especially a low-budget, indy project like this one. So much was riding on it for a lot of people—including her and Erin. The film’s success could make their careers. Or conversely, bankrupt them. The two of them were low-level investors, but it had taken every penny they’d saved, every favor owed them, and they’d even taken out small loans. Lila tried not to think about that too much. It made her queasy.

She quickly went to work on the man’s scar, and just as she applied the finishing touch, Erin said, “Guess who’s back?”

Lila’s pulse quickened. “Shut. The. Front. Door,” she said, staring at her friend. Erin’s teasing smile was a big hint. Had to be the cowboy Lila had been daydreaming about all afternoon. “Are you serious?”

“As a heart attack. But don’t turn—” Erin sighed when Lila whipped around for a look.

“Where?” A black truck parked near the corrals hadn’t been there ten minutes ago. No sign of Clint, though. “Is he—oh, crap,” she muttered when she caught sight of Baxter.

Erin’s expression changed completely when she saw him hurrying toward them. “What do you want?”

“That guy...Landers.” Baxter was out of breath. “He’s back.”

“So?”

“Jason wants to use him tomorrow.” Baxter was so clueless. Whatever it was he wanted, his haughty tone wasn’t going to win Erin over.

“Need anything else, Erin?” Glenda asked, already backing away.

“Nope. We’re good for now.”

“You have to go talk to Landers,” Baxter said. “Jason insists that—”

“Jason told you to do it. Lila, got a minute?” Erin started walking toward the set, and Lila went along with her.

“Yeah, but—” Baxter’s face flushed.

Erin stopped. “But what? Landers told you to take a hike?”

Baxter’s defiant glare faded. “I don’t get why Jason has to have him.”

“Well, that’s a problem. You should be getting it. You need to understand those small details if you want to—” Erin cut herself short. She blinked, thought a few seconds and tried to hold back a smile. “Ask Lila to do it.”

Baxter’s mouth tightened. It was obvious he didn’t like that idea. Finally he turned to her. “Will you talk to Landers?”

“Maybe.” Lila let him stew while she willed her pulse to slow down. “Okay, I’ll do it. But you’ll owe me.”

Baxter had the nerve to look smug again.

Lila jabbed a finger at him. “Owe me big. Got it?”

Baxter grinned. “I’ll take you to dinner in Kalispell.”

She could only stare at him. Clearly he was insane.

“Oh.” A smile brightened Erin’s face. “Spencer’s here.”

Lila turned and waved. She really liked Spencer, and was thrilled Erin had found love and the deep sense of contentment he’d provided in her life. Knowing that helped Lila ignore the occasional pang of jealousy. Over not having someone to share a pillow with at night. Or be there to listen to the highs and lows of her day. And she missed having Erin around all the time.

“Do you mind if I leave?” Erin asked, watching her closely. “Have you got this?”

Lila gave her a big smile. “Oh yeah.”

“There he is,” Baxter said, peering in the direction of the corrals. “Landers.”

“Big,” Lila reminded him as she walked backward. “And no dinner.” She turned toward Clint and hurried her pace when she saw him and Charlie shake hands.

If he went for his truck, she’d head him off.

She didn’t have to do anything but keep walking. The moment Clint saw her, he stopped.

“Hey,” she said, wishing she’d changed her big sloppy sweatshirt for something nicer.

“Hello again.”

“I see you found Charlie.”

Clint nodded. “Nice guy. Knows horses.”

“That’s what I’ve heard. Me, I don’t know anything about... I saw your chestnuts.”

He blinked, and it might have been a trick of the light, but his face darkened.

“Um, geldings? Horses?”

“Right. Sure.”

“Did I say that wrong?”

“No.” He shook his head. “I knew exactly what you meant.” His gaze drifted toward the set. “You all work late every night?”

“Only when we’re shooting a night scene.”

Clint chuckled. “I’m sure I’ll have a few more dumb questions.”

Lila smiled. She liked having to tilt her head back to look at him. “You want to ask them over a beer?”

He met her eyes. His jaw clenched.

“Unless you need to get home for dinner,” she said quickly. “Your wife and kids might be waiting.” She paused long enough for him to deny it, but he didn’t. “I’m supposed to convince you to be in the movie. So, you know, it’s not personal or anything.”

He actually looked disappointed. “That’s a shame,” he said, his mouth quirking upward. “Since I don’t have a wife or kids.”

“No?” She cleared her throat. “Then how about that beer?”

3

THE FULL MOON SALOON had opened in July, but this was Clint’s first time in the place. He’d heard about the mechanical bull in the back and shouldn’t have been surprised by the small dance floor, since he knew a live band played Friday and Sunday nights. The only music now was something by Keith Urban coming from the jukebox.

It wasn’t too crowded yet. Some guys were shooting pool in the back, and half the stools at the bar were occupied by local cowboys. Clint nodded at two men he recognized from the Circle K. They nodded back, but their eyes were on Lila. That was probably true for just about every guy in the room.

“Table or bar?” he asked her, hoping she’d choose a table so they could have some privacy.

“How about that one?” she said, gesturing toward a nice corner table.

“After you.”

She led the way, and he did his damnedest not to stare at her behind. Not that he could see much anyway. It looked like she’d worn the same jeans, but she’d traded the old sweatshirt he’d assumed went with whatever role she was playing, for another that was just as bulky.

She pulled out a chair that had her facing the wall. “It’s going to get busy in here,” she said as she settled gracefully in her seat. “I saw two stuntmen playing pool. They won’t bother us, but you can bet someone from the crew will invite himself over eventually.”

Clint took the chair across the table from her. Sitting with her back to the room wouldn’t matter. No man with eyes in his head would be able to pass her by without a second or third look.

“I just realized something,” she said with a laugh. “This is a small town. It’s kind of like a big film crew where people think nothing of pulling up a chair whether you’re having a private conversation or not.”

“Yep, that’s about the size of it.”

“Shall we make a bet on whose people will interrupt us first?”

“To be clear, the waitress doesn’t count, right?” He grinned at her puzzled expression.

Lila turned just as Elaine got to their table.

“Good Lord. Clint Landers.” The short brunette stuck a pencil behind her ear and put a hand on her hip. “How long has it been since I’ve laid eyes on you?”

“It’s been a while.”

“Not since Anne’s...” Elaine glanced at Lila and smiled.

“I think you’re right,” Clint said, hoping to ease the sudden awkwardness. “It was at Anne’s funeral. Hard to believe it’s been four years.”

Elaine nodded. “I’ve seen Nathan a few times. He looks good. I didn’t get to talk to him, though, so tell him I said hey.”

“Will do.”

“Well, what can I get you folks?”

Lila surprised him once again by ordering a draft beer. He told Elaine to make it two, and was about to introduce the women when another customer called for Elaine.

As soon as she left, Lila said, “Okay, I must have a serious misconception of a small town.”

“You think we all know each other?”

“Yes, that, too, but how can you go four years without seeing someone?”

“Salina is a big county, and the ranches are all spread out. I don’t come to Blackfoot Falls all that much, and when I do it’s usually to pick up something at the hardware store. And since I live across the county line, I went to a different school than most of the folks around here.”

“But you’ve lived in the area your whole life?”

“Other than two years of college, yeah.”

“Your family is still here?”

Clint nodded and skipped the part that he still lived in the family home, sleeping in the same room he had as a kid. Sometimes it bothered him, even though it was a common practice with families who owned big ranches. But today the idea stuck in his craw.

“Do you have brothers and sisters? Nieces and nephews?” she asked, and seemed genuinely interested. She wasn’t being nosy or making small talk.

“Two brothers. Nathan is older than me. Seth is younger and a real pain in the butt.”

Lila laughed. “I have one of those, too,” she said with a wistful sigh. “Oh, I guess Britney isn’t that bad. She started college this fall and is feeling overwhelmed by life in general. But we talk a lot.”

“You miss her.”

“Yes. I miss everybody—my parents and brother, his wife. They all live in California where I grew up. These last three months are the longest I’ve ever been away from them.”

Clint could just stare at her all night. She had an expressive face and skin as fine as his mother’s bone china. Right now, that face was telling him he’d missed a cue.

Shit.

He cleared his throat. “I would think you travel a lot.”

“Not really. And certainly not for this long. We’re behind schedule. I’m not sure what will happen at Christmas.”

“You mean you won’t have the day off?”

“Oh, we will. Thanks to the unions. But I don’t know that any of us are going to have enough time to make it home.” She shrugged, as if it wasn’t a big deal, and smiled at Elaine as she set down two foamy mugs.

“I’ll start a tab for you folks, yes?” Elaine said.

Clint was about to agree when Lila shook her head.

She dug into her pocket. “What do I owe you?”

“Elaine, I’ve got this.” He pulled out a twenty at the same time Lila produced a handful of crumpled bills.

“I asked you to come, so my treat,” she said, busy trying to straighten her money. “In fact I’m going to make Baxter reimburse me.”

Clint slipped Elaine the twenty, and she quietly left to make change.

Lila looked up and twisted in her seat. “Where’d she go?”

A group who had to be movie people had just entered the bar. The short stocky guy leading the pack spotted Lila right away.

She acknowledged the hand he lifted, sighing as she turned back to face Clint. “I thought we’d have more time before the troops descended.”

“You want to leave?”

“No. Maybe they’ll play pool. But if they come over, then...”

“I won’t have any trouble getting rid of them,” Clint said, and she gave him a peculiar smile. “If that’s what you want.”

“Wait. Did Elaine take your money?”

“Look, I’ll be honest with you.” He leaned forward. “I had to pay the check. Because I’m going to brag like hell that I had a date with a bona fide movie star, and it wouldn’t be a date if I didn’t pay, now would it?”

Arching her brows, she laughed softly.

“I won’t use your name if you don’t want me to.”

“I can’t tell if you’re serious.”

“I am.” Clint looked into her pretty blue eyes and had an almost uncontrollable urge to lean closer and kiss her. He was likely to clear the whole damn table trying, but he might be willing...

“One problem.” She picked up her mug and took a tiny sip. “I’m not a movie star.”

“What do you mean? You’re an actress, right?”

“Yes and no.” Lila shrugged. “I’ve done shampoo commercials, and I’ve had tiny parts in a few TV movies. But I do have a good shot at a decent role coming up.”

Clint frowned. Something didn’t add up.

“Sorry to disappoint you.”

“I’m not...disappointed. Just confused.”

“I’m part of the crew, working as a hairstylist. And I do some makeup, too. It’s a small independent movie and we’re operating on a shoestring, so our jobs tend to overlap.”

“But acting isn’t one of yours?”

“Not for this project. But I’ve wanted to be an actress since I was a kid. I even went to UCLA drama school.” She smiled with that same wistfulness he’d heard in her voice earlier. “Along with fifty million other wannabes. It’s a tough business to break into.”

Clint opened his mouth, then realized he was about to say something totally stupid.

“What?”

He shook his head.

“Come on, you’ve got me curious.”

“I’ll just say that you look like a movie star. So you’ve already got that part down pat.”

Lila laughed. “Well, thank you,” she said with a slight nod. “I’ll let my parents know you approve.”

Clint ducked his head. He knew he should’ve kept his mouth shut.

“No, don’t.” Lila reached across the table and touched his hand. “I wasn’t being snotty or sarcastic. I promise. It’s just—”

He stared at her slim pale fingers resting on top of his big, rough ones, brown like leather from working in the hot sun. Her skin was soft, her touch so light it felt like a butterfly had landed on him. She withdrew her hand, and he looked up, wishing she hadn’t.

“It’s just...” she began again. “In this business it’s important to keep things in perspective. My looks don’t define me. I can’t let them or I’ll end up—” Lila blushed. “Oh, jeez. I can’t believe I’m telling you all this stuff.” She took a hasty sip of beer and made a face. Coughed a little. Muttered something about sticking to iced tea. And coughed again.

Clint hid a smile behind his mug, drinking his beer and giving her time to recover. She thought he was disappointed that she wasn’t a movie star. Not even close. It wasn’t that he thought he had a chance with her. He’d be a damn fool to think she’d go for a guy like him, some hick steeped in family tradition and the routine of ranch life. But he really admired her for not using her beauty as a crutch.

She stopped coughing, pushed the beer aside and looked at him while dabbing her watery eyes.

“I saw a sign for sarsaparillas. Only two bits,” he said. “Maybe we can order you one of those.”

“Very funny.” With a cute little smile, she leaned forward as if she had a secret to tell him. “I’ll admit I’m an umbrella drink kind of girl. And if the drink is pink or blue, that’s even better.”

“Elaine’s on her way back. Let’s see what we can do about that.”

“No. I can’t,” Lila said, laughing. “I have to get up early tomorrow.”

“Okay, then, when’s your day off?” He saw her smile slip and knew he’d overstepped.

This was just part of the job for her. Have a beer with him, convince him to be the silent cowboy standing around like a jackass. Yeah, no way that was going to happen.

He watched more people come through the front door—three men, and a woman with purple hair, all in their twenties, looking a lot like they needed to let off some steam. They sure weren’t locals.

“Sunday,” Lila said. “I’m off on Sundays. Everyone is. You know, union rules and all.”

Clint had no idea how unions operated. He knew a whole lot about ranching and raising cattle. But that was it. So why had he thought about asking her to go out with him? He’d bore her to death.

“How are you two doing?” Elaine laid his change on the table. “Can I get you anything else?”

Lila smiled and shook her head.

“No, thanks, Elaine. This is it for me.”

“Well, good seeing you, Clint. You take care.” Elaine gave Lila a parting nod and a lingering inspection as she went to the next table.

Lila was staring at him with a furrowed brow. “I know Sundays are usually family days, so I’m guessing it won’t work for you.”

Clint’s heart lurched. He took another gulp of beer and discreetly wiped his mouth. Hell, he hoped he wasn’t misreading her. “Sunday is fine. So is Saturday night—”

“I knew it was you hiding in the corner.” A guy with tattoos on his neck came up behind Lila and tugged on her ponytail. “Can’t miss this hair.”

She swatted his hand away just as the rest of the group converged on them.

“Have you seen Rocco?” the woman with the purple hair asked as she strained to see into the back room.

“You know if they fixed the mechanical bull yet?” a younger guy muttered without looking up from his phone.

The fourth member of the party, a tall, clean-cut man stared at Clint.

Lila huffed with annoyance. “Everybody be quiet,” she said, briefly closing her eyes before glancing up at them. “Did any of you stop for one second to wonder if you might be interrupting something here?”

The three people—who weren’t sizing up Clint—looked at Lila and then looked at one another. “Nah,” they said at once and grinned.

“Well, you are. I’m on a date. So butt out.”

They all stared at her. Even Mr. Clean-cut dragged his gaze away from Clint to gape at Lila.

Clint just kept his mouth shut.

“No, you aren’t,” the tattooed guy said. “You never hook up. With anybody.”

“Ever.” The kid had lowered his phone.

“You don’t hook up, and you don’t cuss. Everyone knows that.”

“Goodbye, Randy,” Lila said to him with a shooing motion. “And Tony. Rhonda. Davis. Goodbye. See you all tomorrow.”

Rhonda gave Clint a considering look, smiled and strolled off toward the bar.

“I mean it, you guys.” Lila glared at the other three when they didn’t budge. “Leave.”

Clint reached across the table for her hand. The softness of her skin stunned him all over again. “How about we leave instead?”

“Yes. Even better.”

He didn’t want to let go of her hand, and she wasn’t trying to pull away. Her smile lit him up inside. All the way down to the deepest, darkest pit where he stuffed feelings he didn’t know what to do with.

Her fingers curled lightly around his. “Ready?”

Clearing his throat, he nodded and released her hand. He scraped back in his chair and noticed the guy who’d been staring at him hadn’t gone far. Lila had called him Davis. His glare had been replaced with an obnoxious smirk. Probably thinking, you poor dumb bastard.

Clint got that, and he could live with it. At least for tonight, and if he was really lucky, Saturday night too.

4

“SORRY ABOUT THAT,” Lila said once they were sitting in his truck. “Film crews should never be released into the general population. They have no manners. No sense of—”

Clint started the engine and glanced over at her, an amused expression on his face.

“Yes, I know I’m one of them,” she continued. “But I do have manners.”

“They didn’t bother me,” he said with a laugh. “But I can’t say I was sorry to get out of there, either.”

“And what I said about us being on a date... I hope that didn’t upset you.”

“Lila.” He let the truck idle and turned to look at her. “Do you honestly think I would care if anyone assumed we were on a date?”

“I don’t know. If you had a girlfriend, you would.” She paused, waiting for him to respond. “You don’t, right?”

“No, I don’t have a girlfriend. If you’re free Saturday night, would you like to have dinner with me?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” He started to put the truck in gear but cut the engine instead. “One more thing,” he said, and leaned over the console.

His hand slipped behind her neck as he pressed his mouth against hers. Startled, her lips parted on a silent gasp. But he didn’t mistake her reaction for an invitation and rush in. He took his time, his mouth warm and firm as it moved over hers, his large hand cupping her nape. His fingers exerted a slight pressure, just enough to make her ache for more of his touch.

She parted her lips a little more. His tongue slipped inside, teasing, tasting, probing, then retreated too soon. Clint just stopped kissing her and leaned back. She didn’t understand what had just happened, then relaxed as a lazy smile curved his mouth.

“I could kiss you all night,” he whispered, brushing the back of his hand down her cheek.

“I didn’t stop you,” she said, hoping the semidarkness hid her blush.

“No, I have to keep myself in check before I—get carried away.” He toyed with her hair, letting a tendril curl around his finger. “I have manners, too.”

She loved the smell of him. His scent was warm and musky and very masculine in a way she couldn’t describe. There was a hint of soap, maybe leather, and a big helping of easygoing confidence.

“Why don’t you date?”

“I don’t meet many men outside the industry. And hooking up with coworkers rarely turns out well. I won’t do it. People gossip about nothing as it is. I refuse to feed them anything they can distort. I’m not thick-skinned enough.” She saw that he was really listening and maybe having trouble making sense of what she was telling him. “And yes, to be in this business I need to be tougher. I know that, and hopefully I’ll get there.”

Clint frowned, withdrawing his hand. “That would be a shame. From what I’ve seen, you’re already firm and assertive. You don’t let anyone bulldoze you. I think you’re plenty tough.”

“Oh, you don’t know this business,” she said, laughing.

“You’re right. I don’t know the first thing about it. What I do know is that I like you just the way you are.”

Lila searched his eyes. It could’ve been just a line, but it didn’t feel like that. “I mean, how often do you hear the word date anymore? Nowadays, if you even hear the word, it’s usually a euphemism for sex.”

“I seem to recall us both using it. That’s not what I meant.”

She couldn’t help grinning at his offended expression. “I didn’t think you did, not for a second. If I had, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“See?” The skin at the outside corner of his eyes crinkled with humor. “You can be tough.”

Lila had forgotten what a joy it was to be talking with a man she liked, who had no association with Hollywood. No hidden agendas. She had a feeling that with Clint, what you saw was exactly what you got. “By the way, I do cuss. A lot.” She moved her hand to rest on his. “But only in my head.” Clint laughed just as she was about to lean forward and show him how assertive she could be. “Hey,” she murmured, “that counts.”

“You’re right.” His voice had lowered, and his gaze dropped to her mouth. “We should go someplace.”

“Where?”

“Anywhere but here.” His flat tone prompted her to follow his gaze.

Two men were crossing Main Street, but she didn’t know them.

“Have you eaten?” Clint asked. “We can grab something quick at the diner, or if you have time, there’s a new steak house—”

“Sorry, I can’t.” She sat back. “I was teasing earlier. We do film at night, indoor scenes, especially when we’re this far behind schedule. They might need me later, but I won’t know until the last minute.”

“Ah, but you haven’t convinced me to be an extra. So your job here isn’t done yet.”

“That’s true.” She fastened her seat belt when he started the engine.

“Hey, who’s that Baxter character, anyway?”

Lila sighed. “A pain in everyone’s behind, but he has a rich uncle who’s written us a big fat check, and now everyone has to put up with him.”

“You mean the guy’s in charge?”

“Oh, God, no. Baxter’s just the director’s glorified errand boy. He’s supposed to be learning the business.”

“So he gets chewed out if I don’t want to be an extra? Not you. Is that right?”

“Oh, I have nothing to do with it. If you had agreed, then Baxter would owe me. That’s all.”

“I noticed a bunch of local cowboys standing around. I assume they’ve been hired. Why not use one of them?”

“If Jason, the director, sees something he wants in a particular shot, he won’t let it go. Whether it’s a person or a storefront or a mountain, he gets obsessed. He and Erin went to war over using Moonlight Mountain. Do you know it?”

“Sure. Who won?”

“Erin.” Lila grinned like a proud mama, which made Clint laugh.

She was guessing that the way he’d handled the runaway horse, shutting out everything around him, his focus laser sharp until it was just him and the stallion, was what had drawn Jason’s attention.

As they drove down Main Street, she studied Clint’s profile, seeing him just as the camera would see him.

With his strong stubbled jaw and intense gaze, he was the quintessential cowboy hero. On the other hand, she could just as easily picture him as an outlaw, his face on an old West wanted poster. Either way the camera would love him.

“You know what, it might be fun,” she said. “Something different.”

“What?”

“Being in the film. It’s not like learning a role. But I should point out that while you’d be considered an extra, you won’t be just a face in the crowd like the others. The director will want some close-ups and shots of you standing alone, apart from the action. A shadowy red herring.”

Clint looked at her as if she’d forgotten to brush her teeth.

Lila grinned. “There’s no speaking involved, and if you’re worried about looking stiff, I could coach you.”

He didn’t respond but turned off the highway onto a gravel road. She’d forgotten what a short ride it was between town and their camp. Out here among the bare trees, pines and thick underbrush, it seemed they were miles away from civilization. They’d been lucky to find a clearing large enough to accommodate the trailers and temporary corrals.

“Where to?” Clint asked, slowing the truck to a crawl to avoid crew members walking around in their own little worlds.

“Past the catering truck and generators.” Lila pointed to the row of trailers. “The second one. Home sweet home. God, I’m sick of that tin box.”

“Is that where you work or...?”

“It’s where I sleep and keep my clothes and stuff. And what’s even better? I share it with two other women, one of whom happens to be a total slob.”

“Why would you stay there—is the motel full?”

Lila laughed. “No. The Boarding House Inn and the motel are reserved for the director and cast, the screenwriter, what we commonly refer to as above-the-line personnel. We peons get to live like we’re still in college.”

“And you’ve been on the road for how long?”

“Three months.” That it seemed more like a year probably had more to do with her recent lack of enthusiasm. “Oh, and Baxter gets to stay at the motel, but his uncle pays for that. It doesn’t come out of our budget.”

“Should I park?” Clint asked, sounding uncertain. “Or am I just letting you off?”

Lila glanced at the dark trailer. “My roomies aren’t here. No telling what it looks like inside, but if you don’t mind risking exposure to nuclear waste, you’re welcome to come in.”

He stopped the truck. “Okay if I park here?”

Lila chuckled. “Sure.”

The slight jitter in her tummy was ridiculous. Nothing was going to happen in the stupid trailer, she thought as she climbed out of the truck. She could be called to the set at any time. Or Shannon or Diane could show up.

Lila jumped out and hurried to the door. If the place was beyond disgusting, she’d discourage Clint from coming in. “So, have I completely ruined your perception of Hollywood and all its glamour?” she asked over her shoulder.

“To be honest, I hadn’t given it much thought one way or another.”

Of course he hadn’t. The world didn’t revolve around Hollywood. Something most people in the business often forgot, including herself.

She pushed the creaky door open. It wasn’t horrible inside; she’d seen it in worse condition.

“I guess I am surprised that making a movie doesn’t take more people.” He stopped on the first step and shook the rickety railing. “This is dangerous. It needs to be tightened,” he said. “I have tools in my truck.”

Lila stood just inside the door, staring at him. She couldn’t quite find her voice, or breathe for that matter. It was such a kind, unexpected offer. A small gesture, and yet not really small at all considering he didn’t know her.

He looked up, met her eyes and smiled.

“That’s nice—but it’s only three steps. No one uses the railing.”

“Wouldn’t take me long.” He pushed up the brim of his hat, the warmth in his eyes turning them a golden brown. “And I’d feel better.”

She held in a sigh. “As much as I appreciate it, my roommates could show up at any moment...”

Clint nodded. “Okay.”

Lila turned and grabbed a pillow off the floor, then kicked Shannon’s boots out of the way. Great. Diane had left her vibrator out. Lila dropped the pillow on it and spun to face Clint.

“So...” She shrugged. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

He eyed the two unmade beds heaped with a mix of dirty and clean clothes. Tubes of mascara, pencil liners and palettes of eye shadow and nail polish in every possible color were scattered among dirty dishes.

Oh, dear God.

Lila spotted a second vibrator too late. Really, Diane? Two of them? The hot pink one was a doozy, too. Very fancy and clearly meant to leave no nook or cranny untouched.

Huh. Weirdly interesting. Lila would have to get a better look at it later.

Of course Clint spotted it right off. He frowned, angling his head to the side, as if he was trying to figure out how it worked.

“It’s not mine,” Lila blurted and felt her cheeks burn.

“Okay.” Clint gave a slow nod. “That’s what I thought it was,” he muttered, ending with a short laugh.

The place really was a disaster, and yet a minute ago Lila had decided it wasn’t so awful. When had she grown accustomed to living in a pig sty? When had her standards fallen so low?

“That’s my bed back there,” she said, jerking a thumb over her shoulder. “I make it every morning.”

He gave her a sympathetic smile, and she buried her face in her hands.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let you come in here,” she moaned, her voice muffled.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m not all that neat myself.” He put his hands on her shoulders and squeezed lightly. “And I have two brothers, remember? Everything was always a mess at the house. You can talk to my mom. She’ll confirm it.”

Lila smiled a little, even though he’d just lied. His truck was spotless. She uncovered her face, but she kept her chin lowered and her gaze on his chest. “This movie is important. We’ve got a real chance to get a deal with a distributor and after having begged, borrowed and bartered, we’re still operating on fumes. That’s why we have limited crew. Those of us who’ve invested in the project are working twice as hard, doubling up and overlapping jobs. Doing anything and everything to make sure the film succeeds. I’ve put in every last penny I’d saved and then some. Erin did, too. This has been our dream since we were in the third grade.”

He kept massaging her shoulders and whispering that everything would be okay in that low velvety tone that was beginning to hypnotize her into believing him.

“I’m not complaining.”

“I didn’t think you were.”

“Oh, Lord. Why am I even telling you all this? You’re a stranger.”

“Sometimes it’s easier,” Clint said, and rubbed a knot in back of her left shoulder.

“Well, fine, feel free to unload. Whatever you want to get off your chest, go for it.”

“If I think of something, I will.”

“Oh, so your life is perfect? That makes me feel so much better.”

He laughed, the sound a low quiet rumble that wrapped her in his warmth. “It’s not perfect,” he said. “More like...predictable.”

Lila couldn’t tell if he thought that was good or bad. She lifted her chin and was rewarded with a smile that reached his eyes. “Want to hear something really sad?”

“What’s that?”

“As horrifying as this pit is, I don’t care half as much as I do about not having a tub. We have a shower. A tiny stupid shower. I would kill for a tub. Any plain generic one would do.”

“I’m surprised you’re not sharing a trailer with Erin.”

“Ah.” Lila nodded. “Normally we would have. But she met someone. He lives here, actually. Spencer Hunt. He owns Moonlight Mountain. So she’s been staying with him at his ranch.”

Clint’s hands stilled and his brows rose. He looked shocked, confused, curious. All appropriate reactions, but only for someone who knew Erin. Lila had no idea what was going through Clint’s head.

“Do you know Spencer?” she asked.

“No. I’ve heard of him, though. He’s been volunteering at a local animal sanctuary.”

“They’ve invited me to stay with them,” she said. “But Shadow Creek is too far.”

“What is it, about thirty minutes?”

“I don’t have my own car, and I never know when I’m needed on the set.” She skipped the part about feeling like a third wheel. And the odd feeling she’d been having just recently that something was bothering Erin. Lila hoped it had nothing to do with Spencer. But, she was sure Erin would fill her in soon. “Anyway, predictable doesn’t describe my life, that’s for sure.”

“You have anything pressing to do right now?” His eyes were beginning to darken, a clear hint that he had something in mind for her, something she was going to like.

“Nothing at all.”

He put his hands on her waist and pulled her toward him. “How badly do you think Baxter needs me to agree?”

Unprepared for the switch in gears, she laughed. “I’d say he’s pretty desperate if he asked me to help. I know he’s zero for three with Jason.”

Clint wrapped his arms around her. “Tell Baxter to put you up in the motel in town, and I’ll do whatever he wants.”

Lila stared at him. “Huh?”

“With his own money.” Clint paused. “Or his uncle’s, I don’t care which.”

“But—I—” She laughed. “I can’t do that.”

“Why not?” He brushed a kiss across her mouth. “Would you rather I call him?”

“No.” She couldn’t think. Not when her body was flush against his and she could feel him getting hard. “I don’t know.”

“Whatever you want, Lila,” he whispered, his lips searing a path to her throat.

She swayed in his arms. His strong, muscled arms. How weird was it that she didn’t feel nervous with Clint? She’d never kissed a man five minutes after meeting him. Okay, it had been longer but not all that much. She was always careful about not playing into the Hollywood stereotype. She didn’t play fast or loose. Actually, it just wasn’t her style.

She felt the tip of his tongue trace her collarbone. Her nipples tightened. She squeezed her thighs together. Her breathing was off, and she couldn’t seem to drag in enough air.

“Tell me what you want, Lila.” His voice was low and rough, his breath hot on her skin.

Her sweatshirt was too thick. She couldn’t feel him pressed against her the way she wanted to...

He stopped kissing her and lifted his head. The second he stepped back, she heard the laughter just outside the trailer. She recognized Shannon’s loud snort.

Lila stepped back, as well.

“So, you can tell him,” Clint said when they heard the doorknob turn, “or you can give Baxter my number. That’s up to you.” He turned and nodded causally at Shannon and Diane as they entered, both of them speechless, eyes full of curiosity.

“I have to think about it,” Lila said, her voice hardly shaking at all. But she almost lost it when he took off his hat and held it in front of himself. “I’ll need your number.”

Her cell signaled a text. They needed her on the set.

Clint surprised her with a business card. “I should probably get your number, too.”

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