Fortune's Prince Charming

“Zoe, would you please start us off again by pulling the name of your partner for the race?”

“You know what, Steffi-Anne? Since Jill and Homer won the last round, it’s only fair that we let her draw first. Since they’re such a power team, we need to make sure they don’t get paired up again. Right?”

Steffi-Anne clapped her hands. “May I please have everyone’s attention? We have just a few more teamwork exercises before we break for lunch and then we will have some free time in the park. Since it takes so long to draw names, why don’t we make this round of pairings permanent partners for the duration of our drills? That will make things easier and give us more free time in the park.”

As the bag made its way clockwise around the circle, Zoe drifted over to a picnic table a few paces behind the action. Keeping her back to the group and her ears open for the names each person announced as they drew, she took a pen out of her wristlet and retrieved the scrap of paper she’d drawn from the previous scavenger hunt round. Since she hadn’t been near a trash can, she’d tucked it into the pocket of her shorts. Now, she was happy she’d done that.

Quickly and discreetly, she folded the paper, creased it and tore off the part with Sissy’s name. She wrote Joaquin Mendoza on the small scrap.

If perchance he was called by one of the last few remaining people, Zoe would admit to herself that she’d been barking up the wrong tree and draw a new name from the bag. But her gut instinct told her this was rigged. She intended to draw right before Steffi-Anne and if her hunch was right, there would only be one slip of paper in that bag—and it wouldn’t have Joaquin’s name on it.

So she stayed back at the picnic table until the bag had made it all the way around the circle—and, oh, how interesting, no one had called Joaquin’s name yet.

Zoe knew she was taking a chance by calling Steffi-Anne’s bluff. But what were the odds that out of fifty names his name was among the last two twice in a row?

Nah, something was definitely rotten in Cowboy Country.

Zoe held the brown bag with her left hand and, careful to hold the doctored slip of paper tight with her thumb against the palm of her right hand, she reached in and pretended to pull a name.

“Joaquin Mendoza,” she said, reading the paper she’d forged. “Come on down.”

“What?” Steffi-Anne pierced her with the look of death, confirming Zoe’s hunch. She hadn’t included Joaquin’s name with the others. Since she’d gone last, she had pretended to pull his name. Did she really believe that no one would think it was odd that she drew Joaquin as a partner every single time? Worse yet, did she not think Joaquin might find it a little creepy that she’d rigged the pairings to throw them together?

It didn’t matter now because Zoe would be the one getting up close and personal with Joaquin in the three-legged race and the remaining team-building exercises.

Now, he was walking toward her.

As Zoe turned to meet him halfway, she felt a hand on her shoulder.

“Well played, Zoe.” Steffi-Anne’s voice was low and venomous, completely at odds with that sickening smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Well played.”

“What do you mean?” Zoe asked, all sugar with just enough spice mixed in to warn Steffi-Anne that she wasn’t playing.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. I know what you did.”

“Oh, are you talking about how the pairings were rigged?”

Before she could answer, Joaquin walked up to them.

“Is everything all right?”

He looked back and forth between them, obviously sensing that something was off. But Steffi-Anne sprang into action.

“Everything is great. Are you having fun, Joaquin?” She reached out and touched his arm. “Aren’t you glad you came?”

Zoe could tell by his expression that he wasn’t buying her nicey-nicey act.

“Yeah. Sure. It’s nice to spend a day outside. I don’t get to do that often enough.”

“Right. You know I was just telling Zoe that Cowboy Country’s Main Street Shootouts are so realistic.” She locked eyes with Zoe. “Almost makes you want to watch your back.”

She laughed. “And, Joaquin, be sure to save me a ride on the roller coaster, okay?”

“Roller coasters?” He shook his head. “Sorry, I’m not a fan.” He smiled at Zoe. “But I am looking forward to the three-legged race.”

Chapter Four (#ulink_17aa2743-4b84-5105-b091-a850265cd676)

“What was that about?” Joaquin asked Zoe as soon as Steffi-Anne was out of earshot.

Zoe looked as if she wanted to say something but instead opted for the high road.

“Nothing. She was just telling me about Cowboy Country. This is the first time I’ve been here. How about you? Did you spend any time here when you lived in Horseback Hollow?”

“No. It’s my first time, too.”

Zoe arched a brow. “Well, I’m glad we can share each other’s first time. You know, make it special.”

Phew! Did she realize the double entendre she was bandying about?

Of course she did. She could be a first-class flirt sometimes. When she was, it caught him off guard. He didn’t quite know what to say. He didn’t want to encourage her. But on the other hand, encouraging her—adding fuel to the fire—was exactly what he wanted to do.

And that latter won out handily.

“Please be gentle with me,” he quipped. “I don’t ride roller coasters. I’m not that kind of guy.”

She locked gazes with him, her eyes sparkling.

“So, you don’t like it rough and fast, huh?”

Damn, how far was she going to take this? She was killing him.

“No, I’m more of a smooth and easy kind of a guy.”

“Really? Do tell.”

A rush of awareness coursed through him.

Her smile was nothing short of wicked. Obviously she knew she was getting to him, but that seemed only to fuel her fire. And his, for that matter. For a moment he fought the urge to close the distance between them and show her exactly how easy things between them could be, but somewhere in the fog of his lust-hazy brain, he knew that would only muddy the waters between them.

Especially since he was already keeping a secret from her. If things became intimate between them—and God knew it was taking every ounce of restraint he could muster to not cross that line—he would have to tell her about what he’d witnessed as he’d arrived.

Or would he?

Hell, his brain was so fried with want right now, he didn’t even know. The only way around it was to get out now.

He took a symbolic step back from her.

“I have a feeling Steffi-Anne is not going to go very easy on us if we hold up her race,” he said. “She seems to have us on a tight schedule. Why don’t we get over there now?”