Cowboy Jackpot: Valentine's Day by Randi Alexander Page A

stared at a
spot over his shoulder. "I'm sorry I didn't mention I was filthy rich. It
just didn't come up, and it's not something I wear on a LED lighted T-shirt for
the world to see."
    She held the brown envelope in two hands. She wanted to
surprise him with its contents, too, but her surprises today had turned to
disasters.
    "I'm just having a hard time taking all this in."
He turned his back to her and stared at the video monitor of the casino.
"Let's take some time to sort this out. Slow things down." He was
protecting his heart.
    She didn't blame him, but she'd been too stupid to do the
same for her own heart. "That's okay, Dallas." She made her voice as
chipper as Stormie's. "It's run its course, you and me. We're polar
opposites, and nothing we do will ever change that."
    He watched her from over his shoulder.
    Kira walked to the door. "I'll be in the suite until I
have to leave for the airport." She tried a smile but it didn't work.
"I'll have a bellman pick up your bag, and you can get it from the valet
desk."
    When he didn't speak, she lifted a hand in farewell and
walked out, leaving the door open. She gestured for Ray and Barret to head back
into the office. "Thank you both." She noted their uncertain faces,
but didn't have the energy to reassure them. "I'll be here for three more
hours if you need to call me for anything." She kept walking.
    Dallas didn't say another word. Didn't call to her to stop,
didn't charge after her and pick her up in his arms to proclaim his apology.
    "So long, cowboy," she whispered.
    ****
    Dallas felt like he was underwater. Had Kira just walked
away from him? Had he fucking just let her go? He wanted to move, wanted to
haul ass after her, but years of playing it safe—on everything but a bucking
bronc's back—kept his boots glued to the floor.
    The manager and attorney came back in, closed the door, and
quietly sat in their seats, as if a loud noise or quick movement would trigger
an explosion in Dallas.
    He forced his muscles to relax and sat, signed where he was
supposed to, accepted a check for nearly two hundred thousand dollars as if it
were a grocery receipt, and stood to leave.
    Barret held out a card. "Call me if you'd like some
help with tax shelters on that money. I understand you're investing in a
business. We can work out the best plan for your bottom line."
    "Kira told you about the business?" He didn't know
how to react to that news.
    "Yes, she did." The attorney picked up his
briefcase. "I hope you don't mind, but I did some research on similar
businesses, and I have some ideas for you and your partners." He leaned
closer. "All at well discounted rates, since you're a new client, and our
company prides itself in assisting startups like yours."
    "I…" He couldn't believe the luck he was having.
"Sure. We'll be in touch." He held out his hand.
    Barret shook it. His grip was firm. "And
secretly…" He lifted his brows. "I've always wanted to ride a
bull."
    The casino manager laughed. "Haven't we all." He
stood and shook both men's hands. "But some of us have gotten past the age
of actually doing it." He opened the door and escorted them down the
hallway to the casino. "Best of luck to you, Mr. Burns. And Mr. Weis,
don't break any bones at that rodeo school."
    Dallas and the attorney said goodbye and Dallas went
straight to the Roundup Bar and ordered a beer in a longneck bottle.
    One of only five people in the bar, he could have sat
anywhere, but he took a stool facing the booth where he and Kira and the gang
had celebrated their jackpot win. Was it just yesterday? He burped but the
hollow feeling under his heart didn't go away. Or was it inside his heart?
    "Kira." Funny, he'd always figured that when he
remembered her, it would be the times they'd had sex. Her full lips around his
cock, her sweet pussy around his tongue, her breasts as he sucked them to
perfect peaks.
    Nope. It was her teasing smiles, the look she had when she
wasn't about to let him get away with his