That presented Gabe with his first chance to talk with Nick alone. He might not have another one, so he latched onto it. Taking a pull on his beer, he glanced over at Nick. "Jack's getting out of hand."

"He's been out of hand for a while now. Demanding that you stop competing is only the latest stunt in a long line of weirdness."

"I'm gonna find a way to compete so Top Drawer can make the Hall of Fame."

Nick picked at the label on his beer bottle. "I know you are. And you should." He glanced up. "Of the three of us, you have the most right to be out there representing the family, and Top Drawer deserves his shot."

"Let's not start that half-brother s.h.i.t again. As far as I'm concerned, we're all just brothers." Gabe had never felt any differently, but convincing Jack and Nick was an uphill battle.

Jack's mother had left the ranch and her marriage when Jack was a toddler. Despite Sarah's continued requests, Jack had never called her Mom, as if he felt obligated to make the distinction that he was her stepson.

Nick and Gabe had both thought they were Sarah's kids, but just recently Nick had found a doc.u.ment proving that Sarah wasn't his biological mother, either. Instead he was the result of an affair his father had had prior to meeting Sarah. Nick's mother had died, and Nick had come to the ranch as a baby. His father and Sarah had never told him the truth, and the community had helped keep their secret.

That left Gabe as the only son born to Jonathan and Sarah. Three sons, three different mothers. It made no difference to Gabe. In fact, he was determined to hang on to a sense of unity, even though Jack was currently behaving like an a.s.s. But Nick and Jack weren't so dedicated to the concept. Jack was the most stubborn about it, but Nick had his moments. Like now.

"Dad had a special feeling for you," Nick said.

"That's why he encouraged you to get into the cutting-horse compet.i.tion in the first place."

"He had a special feeling for all of us. You know d.a.m.ned well he didn't play favorites. He was busting his b.u.t.tons over you becoming a large-animal vet."

"Nah, that wasn't the same. My degree isn't exciting. You winning ribbons and trophies and then getting prize money on top of it-that's exciting. He got a vicarious thrill out of you being out there."

Gabe considered that as he took another swig of his beer. "Is there any chance Jack is jealous of how Dad felt about me competing and that's why he wants to shut me down?"

Nick shook his head. "Don't think so. Jack's never seemed jealous of either of us. I think he's always cherished his position as first-born. But, dear G.o.d, is he turning into an a.n.a.l son of a b.i.t.c.h! All he thinks about is the bottom line, preserving the ranch exactly as Dad left it. He's taking his responsibility way too seriously."

Gabe sighed. "Yeah, well, guilt is a powerful thing."

"And so stupid! That rollover was all Dad's fault. He should have waited for better weather or until Jack was available to go fetch that horse."

"What horse?" Morgan asked as the women returned to the table and took their seats.

"Nothing," Gabe said. "You know cowboys. Always talking about some horse or other."

Morgan didn't pursue it. Gabe liked that about her. She was interested in things without being nosy. He hadn't had time to tell Nick about Jack's treatment of Morgan, but maybe that should stay between him and Jack, anyway.

Gabe didn't know for sure where this new friendship with Morgan was headed, but every time he looked at her, he thought of mixing it up on some rumpled bedsheets. More important, he didn't see white lace and promises, so whether Jack ever warmed to Morgan might not matter.

What a great day they'd had, though. Night was settling in, soft and mild, and the mosquitoes hadn't been bad at all. Gabe looked forward to dancing with Morgan and having a reason to hold her close. In the meantime, they'd drink beer and eat some of Josie's food, probably hamburgers. It was that kind of night.

"You know what?" Morgan's eyes shone with excitement. "Dominique just told me about the ghosts that supposedly hang out in the bar. I want to help carry the furniture back in when Josie locks up so I can see if any come around tonight. Fourth of July seems like a prime time to me."

Gabe chuckled. "There're no ghosts. Josie came up with a marketing angle and she's playing it for all it's worth, even renaming the place Spirits and Spurs. I gotta hand it to her."

"Aw." Morgan looked disappointed. "I was all set to see some-what was the name you used, Dominique?"

"Nick said they were called Ghost Drinkers in the Bar."

"Yeah." Morgan grinned. "Like Ghost Riders in the Sky. I still want to help put everything away tonight. Josie might be making it up or she might not. How old is this place, anyway?"

"Josie knows for sure," Nick said. "But it's seventy-five or eighty years old, at least. It was already here when Grandpa Archie and Grandma Nelsie moved to Shoshone, although it was called the Rusty Spur then."

"Our great-uncle Seth, Grandma Nelsie's brother, married the woman who owned it," Gabe added, "but later on they moved down to Arizona. Their kids and grandkids are still down there but they come up to the Last Chance once in a while."

"And the Chance family all stayed here," Morgan said. "It must be cool to live in the same place where your grandparents settled."

"Well, it is," Gabe said, "unless you get so stuck in the past and tradition that you can't move forward." He was thinking of Jack and wondered if Morgan would figure that out. She was a smart lady.

"You're right," Nick said. "I'll bet Grandpa Archie wasn't a fan of rigid thinking when it came to the ranch. I'm pretty sure Dad told me that switching from cattle to horses was Archie's idea, but he didn't live to see it happen."

Morgan gazed at both of them. "Was your Grandpa Archie a drinking man?"

Gabe nodded. "Not to excess, and I was pretty young when he died, but from what I've heard, he enjoyed a shot of whiskey now and then."

"Yes, definitely," Nick said. "I remember Dad saying Archie took it neat."

"Would he have ordered whiskey in this bar?" Morgan pointed to the doorway.

"I think so," Gabe said. "Jack used to talk about Archie going to the Rusty Spur while Nelsie was shopping. Archie wasn't big on shopping, so he had to fortify himself."

Nick raised his beer bottle in agreement. "I remember Jack saying that, too. For sure Grandpa would have come here for a drink back when his brother-in-law was part owner." He looked at Morgan. "Why are you asking?"

Morgan looked pleased with herself. "Because if he did, and Josie's not making up the ghost part, then you two could go in there tonight and ask his opinion about the future of the ranch."

Gabe didn't believe in ghosts, and no way did he want to spend the night in a deserted bar with his brother. But if Morgan was game, he was more than ready to play along. Hanging out with her in a darkened tavern wasn't a bad idea at all. "There aren't any ghosts," he said, "but if you want to see for yourself, I'm in. I'll bet Josie would give us the key and let us lock up after ourselves."

"There's only one problem with the plan, bro." Nick glanced over at Dominique. "We're planning to take off about ten, and there's no way Josie will close up that early."

"You two don't have to stay," Gabe said. In fact, he hoped they wouldn't. He'd already pictured how cozy that tavern could be with only him and Morgan inside.

"But I'm your ride home."

"Don't worry about that," Morgan said immediately.

"I can drive Gabe back to the ranch later on. It's not far."

"That would be great." Gabe loved the way this was shaping up. The evening was open-ended, which left room for all sorts of interesting developments.

5.

A VAGABOND LIFE did teach a girl to be spontaneous. Morgan might prefer a more planned existence than the one in which she'd grown up, but she could go with the flow when necessary. Or desirable, as was the case with this ghost caper.

The minute Dominique had told Morgan about the possibility of ghosts in the bar, Morgan had wanted an excuse to check it out. Gabe and Nick had conveniently provided it, although both of them claimed not to believe in ghosts. Morgan was neither a believer nor a non-believer. She just thought people should be open to new experiences.

And now, five hours after she'd first concocted this scheme, she and Gabe were sitting in near-darkness, one lone neon Budweiser sign for light. They had only a six-pack and each other for company. Well, unless the Ghost Drinkers in the Bar showed up.

Josie, a tall blonde who wore her hair in a single braid down her back, had been good-natured about the whole thing. She'd given them a key to lock up when they were done and had shown them the mail slot where they could drop it back inside on the floor. She'd also promised them free drinks the following night if they saw or heard ghosts and were willing to testify to the fact.

The room smelled of cigarette smoke and beer, not what Morgan usually a.s.sociated with s.e.xual fantasies. And yet...there was something illicit and subtly romantic about being alone in this bar after closing with a man as potent as Gabe Chance. Even without a ghostly presence, the room vibrated with energy just because Gabe was there.

She had to pinch herself to make sure she wasn't dreaming. Except for her exchange with Jack, today had been perfect, and now she had her high-school crush sitting next to her in the dark. Speaking of paranormal occurrences, she just might levitate.

"I told you there were no ghosts." Gabe opened a beer for each of them and set them on the table. "Josie created the rumor for publicity purposes. She's hoping we'll claim to see ghosts so we can get a couple of free drinks."

"I don't think so." Morgan sipped the tart beer and put the can back on the table. "She knows you, and she's beginning to know me. She wouldn't expect either of us to create a lie for the sake of free drinks."

"Then maybe she thinks we won't be able to resist making up a good story just for the entertainment value."

"That makes no sense, either, Gabe. I'm trying to get a real estate business going and you're a Chance, for G.o.d's sake. Chance men don't lie about things like ghosts for personal gain or to entertain their buddies. You have more honor than to do something like that."

Gabe's soft laughter tickled her nerve endings. "You may have an exaggerated idea of how n.o.ble Chance men are."

"You're not n.o.ble?" Her chair was right next to his, and they'd positioned themselves so they faced the small stage where the country band usually played. For some reason Morgan had thought the ghosts, if they arrived, might want to appear on stage.

Gabe took off his Stetson and laid it on the table before sliding an arm around her shoulders. "Not all that n.o.ble. I had an ulterior motive for agreeing to this ghost hunt."

"And what would that be?" She resisted the impulse to snuggle against him and telegraph her eagerness. He might have been her fantasy man for years, but that was her secret.

"Getting you alone in a dark room."

She glanced over at him and allowed herself to flirt a little. "What if I said that I thought the same thing?"

His fingers traced a circular pattern on her upper arm. "Then I'd have to wonder why we're sitting here waiting for ghosts when we could be doing something more...satisfying."

Her heart kicked into high gear. She loved knowing that he wanted her. "Couldn't we multi-task? Keep an eye out for ghosts while we explore other options?"

Pulling her closer, he cupped her cheek in his free hand. "Not if I'm doing it right."

Whew. That was the answer of a self-a.s.sured man. She could have predicted that he'd be confident, but experiencing that confidence first-hand thrilled her. All her interest in the paranormal vanished. If the ghosts showed up, they'd have to amuse themselves. Gabe Chance was about to kiss her, and that took precedence over everything else.

His mouth hovered nearer. "This reminds me of sitting in the back row of the movie theater or in a parked car. Same awkward angle."

"Same agonizing antic.i.p.ation." She tried to be cool, tried to breathe normally, but it was a losing battle. Although she'd kissed Gabe several times today, they'd always had an audience, a built-in braking system. Now they had none.

Gabe brushed his lips against hers. "We could improve on this position."

"You're right." Refusing to worry about whether he would think she was too aggressive, she left her chair and crawled into his lap.

"Better?" Sitting astride him, she had no doubt what he was thinking about. The evidence formed a hot bulge that nestled conveniently between her thighs. Knowing that she'd caused that reaction sent her pulse racing and her spirits soaring.

He groaned. "Depends on your definition of better. The angle's nice, but the temptation is worse."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned forward to nibble on his lower lip. His obvious desire gave her the courage to be the siren she'd always longed to be, especially with him. "Face it, Gabe. You didn't come in here to resist temptation."

"No." He gathered the hem of her T-shirt in both hands. "I want all the temptation I can get."

"Then I'm guessing you want my shirt off."

"Among other things."

Quivering with excitement, she leaned back and raised her arms over her head. "Then go for it, Mr. Chance."

He pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it on the table. "d.a.m.n, now I wish we had more light than a neon beer sign."

"I don't. The windows face the street." Arching her back, she reached for her bra hooks. She had big girls, and big girls needed at least four hooks. She couldn't expect Gabe to navigate through all those.

"True." His voice sounded raspy, as if he might be having a little trouble with his breathing, too.

"Besides, light would scare away the ghosts." She took off her bra and threw it in the general direction of the table.

He gulped. "At this moment, I don't give a flying fig if Casper and all his friends show up. You are magnificent, woman." Yet he didn't grab, didn't even reach for her at all, as if waiting to be invited.

Cupping her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, she gazed into his shadowy face. "Your brother accused me of using these a.s.sets to further my goal of Chance family domination. He told me you had a certain weakness."

Gabe drew an unsteady breath. "He's right. I've been dreaming about touching you ever since that snap popped open."

"Yet you're holding back."

"I'm...I'm afraid once I touch you, there won't be any stopping."

Disappointment shot through her. "And you didn't come prepared." She certainly hadn't. Zipping home to pick up condoms had seemed like an a.s.sumption she shouldn't make, almost as if she'd be tempting fate and pinning her hopes on something out of reach.

"I didn't come prepared."

"Oh." Feeling like a fool, she let her arms drop to her sides.

He cleared his throat. "But the men's room here is always prepared. I, um, made a purchase the last time I went in there."

"Oh."

"So if you-"

"Gabe Chance, if you don't touch me right now, I'm going to combust."

With a groan of pure delight, he cupped her b.r.e.a.s.t.s in both hands. "d.a.m.n, you feel good."

"So do you." She closed her eyes to better enjoy the sweet sensation of his callused hands stroking, kneading, caressing, as if he knew exactly what she craved. Against all logic, she'd known it could be like this with Gabe.

His breathing grew more labored as he rubbed his thumbs over her nipples. "Your skin is so soft. My hands are rough from-"

"I like that." Bracing her hands on his knees, she arched into his caress. "I like knowing you have hardworking hands."