A Cowboy's Woman by CATHY GILLEN THACKER

her, a hand on her shoulder, before she could get in her car. “We need to talk.”
    Did they? Was there anything he could say that would erase the memory of the way he’d felt, all hot and velvety, in her hand? Was there anything that could erase the melting feeling of need deep inside her? He took her into the warm, strong cradle of his arms. “We’ll have breakfast in town,” Shane continued, as if the matter were already decided.
    Greta shook her head as her hands came up to splay across his chest. “I haven’t got time for that. I’ve got a ton of deliveries coming, and they’re putting up the window coverings this morning.” She put up a hand before he could say anything else. “It’ll have to be later.” When she’d had more time to compose herself and figure out how to handle this. “Say this evening.”
    He leaned forward, gave her an all-too-brief, all-too-casual kiss on the lips, then stepped back and looked at her in a way that made her heart skip a beat. “You’re not always going to get your own way with me, you know,” he said.
    Trembling at the proprietary promise she saw in his gray eyes, Greta pushed away from him. “But I will this morning.” She jumped in her car, shouted a breezy, “See you!” started the engine and drove away. She had the whole day to figure out how to somehow take charge of this situation. Meanwhile, she had a business to run.
    Thirty minutes later Greta entered the dance hall. Five minutes after that her father popped in with a stack of insurance papers to sign. “I thought we were going to do this at four o’clock,” Greta said as she kissed Bart hello and ushered him inside, then set about making a
pot of coffee in the commercial kitchen. While it brewed, she led her father back to the closest dining area.
    Bart held her chair for her, then sat down at the table opposite her. “We were, but I saw your car when I was driving past and figured I’d go ahead and bring them by, get them out of the way.” Briefly they discussed the coverage Greta had asked her father’s insurance company to provide. Agreeing all was in order, Greta signed everywhere she was supposed to sign and wrote a check to cover the first six months.
    Bakery box in hand, Shane walked in the front door. He grinned at his new father-in-law and carried the aromatic goodies over to the table. “You’re just in time. I’ve got two kinds of muffins and three kinds of donuts.”
    â€œWorks for me.”
    It was all Greta could do not to scowl at Shane. He was not supposed to be kissing up to her father or trying to win his approval—just the opposite! “If you keep this up, they’ll never want us to get an annulment,” she whispered to Shane as the two of them went back to the kitchen to gather up some plates, napkins and coffee cups.
    â€œOh, don’t get your knickers in a knot,” Shane said right back, leaning over her so he could speak seductively in her ear. “It’s just breakfast.”
    Greta blew out an aggravated breath. “I told you I didn’t have time!” she hissed.
    Shane braced his arms on either side of her and leaned in even closer. “And I told you we had to talk!”
    Bart stuck his head around the corner. “Need any help?” he asked jovially, studying them shrewdly all the while.
    Greta forced a smile as Shane wrapped a possessive
arm about her shoulders. “No, Dad, we’re fine.” Determined to maintain as much physical distance between them as possible, Greta squeezed Shane’s hand, then stepped out of reach and went back to pouring the coffee.
    Shane looked back at Bart. “I was just telling Greta I’ve got to go to San Angelo to take a look at a horse I’m thinking of buying and to purchase a pressure washer for the stables, and as long as I’m there, I thought I’d buy some