Have Cowboy, Need Cupid by Rita Herron

sounded. But the sudden spark of desire in his eyes that replaced the troubled look was so much nicer she didn’t care; she’d have to pick out something that would rattle him even more.
    After all, it wasn’t fair for her to be the only one wrestling with this crazy desire.

    R AFE PARKED IN FRONT of the Hotspot, still contemplating Suzanne’s parting remark. What did the woman plan to wear to his ranch? Something soft and seductive?
    To ride in? Not likely.
    Still, he indulged his imagination, conjuring images of her dark exotic hair spread across bare shoulders, a low top veeing down to reveal enough cleavage to tempt a man to want to see more, and jeans that rode low enough on her hips to let him glimpse her bare flat belly.
    Scrubbing his hand through his hair, he fought the images, reminding himself she was off-limits. A definite danger to his lonely libido.
    And a distraction from problems that seemed almost insurmountable.
    Shaking off the images of Suzanne, he slammed the truck door and strode into the bookstore to pick up his mother. She was standing at the register talking to Rebecca Hartwell Emerson.
    “Thanks for stopping in, Mrs. McAllister,” Rebecca said. “I hope you enjoy those books.”
    “Oh, I will, dear,” Rafe’s mother said. “And thanks for the chat. It’s lovely to see you again. Marriage certainly agrees with you.”
    Rebecca blushed. “I’m enjoying it.”
    “I keep telling Rafe that he needs to find himself a bride. Don’t you think so?”
    “Mother,” Rafe cut in, “Shouldn’t we be going?”
    “He’s so ornery these days.” She offered Rebecca a knowing smile as if the entire female population had some secret he didn’t know about, as if all the Hartwell women had decided to conspire against him. “A good woman would change his disposition all right.”
    Rebecca simply smiled at him, and he tipped his Stetson in a polite gesture, then ushered his mother toward the door, wishing for once she could move that walker a little bit faster. He wasn’t normally a man to blush, but all this matchmaking talk was downright embarrassing.
    “What time is Suzanne coming over?” his mother asked when they’d settled into the car.
    “Five o’clock. I told her to wait until I got some work done first.” He heaved a sigh and hit the gas. “I don’t have time to baby-sit her all day. I’ve got much more important things to do. Like run the ranch.”
    “Then maybe you should get Bud to give her riding lessons.”
    He clenched the steering wheel tighter. “No, that’s all right. I…the insurance might not cover him.”
    His mother pursed her lips as if fighting a smile and turned to stare out the window. But the twinkle in her eye suggested her matchmaking plan wasn’t over.
    Maybe he should relay Suzanne’s opinion about the new development, that if it was up to her, the ranch he and his mother loved would be replaced by a damn mall.
    He took another look at the syrupy smile on her face, and, remembering how pale she’d looked before, opted to remain silent. His mother liked Suzanne, and he couldn’t stand to disappoint her.
    He’d have to deal with Suzanne Hartwell himself.
    Chapter Nine
    Something was burning.
    Suzanne raced into the kitchen, waving her hands around as she fought through the smoke. She threw the oven door open, and thick black smoke swirled out like a funnel cloud. The smoke alarm suddenly shrilled, and she reached for the cake. Yikes! She burned her fingers.
    “Jiminy Cricket.” Shaking her stinging fingers, she turned and grabbed potholders, then removed the steaming cake pan. A black blobby mess oozed over the edge of the pan, and the center had sunk, forming a muddy pit.
    What had gone wrong this time?
    It was the third time she’d tried to bake the cake and failed. She’d thought the third time was supposed to be the charm.
    Wincing at the still-screeching smoke alarm, she shoved the pan on top of the oven, opened the kitchen door and tried to