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All of Rodney’s tutoring went out the window as her nipples pebbled and a slight shiver of arousal wove its way through her body. She lifted her face to see the owner of that deep, sexy-as-hell voice. Identical faces etched with concern greeted her.

She opened her mouth to speak, but no sound emerged. Standing before her were twin Greek gods, kings of the western frontier, complete with rugged, dimpled cheeks, blue eyes that—honest to God—twinkled, and shaggy, made-for-running-her-fingers-through dark brown hair only partially concealed by cowboy hats.

If she’d lived a hundred years ago, she would have felt compelled to fucking swoon. Instead, her twenty-first-century sensibilities took over and she simply muttered, “Holy double wow.”

Both men grinned widely at her ridiculous comment. “I take it that means you’re not hurt, darlin’.”

Her pussy clenched at his term of endearment. Could there be anything hotter than a gorgeous cowboy calling her darlin’ with that slight country twang? Briefly she imagined him—hell, who was she fooling, them—whispering it to her while they lay together naked in bed.

She cleared her throat and forced herself to stop staring—and drooling—like a love-struck teenage girl. “I’m fine. Clumsy and embarrassed, but otherwise unscathed.”

The hot cowboy on her left chuckled. “Unscathed, huh? Pretty talk. Where are you from?”

“New York,” she confided before her brain engaged to scream a warning. Jesus. Rodney should have locked her in the room. She was going to blow their cover in under thirty seconds, and all because of a couple good-looking men. Stupidity due to horniness was not something her cop friend would forgive easily.

“City girl,” the other cowboy said, though his tone indicated interest more than disdain.

She nodded, determined to keep her mouth shut before any more little tidbits—like the fact she was hiding out from a corrupt judge—fell from her desperate-to-taste-the-cowboys lips.

“I take it you’re one of the guests staying here?” her hot cowboy number one asked.

She paused, decided the question was harmless and nodded once more.

“So what brings a city girl to our neck of the woods?” This question was posed by hot cowboy number two.

She and Rodney had sketched out a rough explanation for their visit with the intention of refining it this morning. Now, it appeared she would have to fly by the seat of her pants. “I’m here with my half-brother.” Shit, five words in and she was already straying from the script. She and Rodney had agreed to pose as a couple, but for some reason, she didn’t want these two men to think she was in a relationship.

That thought led to a major internal eye-roll.

Right, Bridget, like you have so much time to try to hook up with a cowboy—or two.

“Vacation or business?”

“Vacation,” she said. “I’ve always wanted to try my hand at being a cowgirl.” Where the fuck had that come from? She’d never considered such a thing in her life until laying eyes on these two Wonders of the Western World.

“Well, now. If you need some help with that, Matt and I are pretty good teachers.”

Matt. Cowboy number one had a name.

“You teach a lot of cowgirls the ropes, do you?” she asked with a lilt in her voice. Christ, could her flirting be any more obvious? Why not post a sign on her forehead that said, Hasn’t been laid in a year.

Matt’s smile grew, his dimples deepening. A girl could fall into those bottomless caverns on his chiseled face and never be found again. She could think of worse places to get lost. “My brothers and I own the ranch next door. We train horses, give riding lessons. Stuff like that. We’d be more than happy to help you give that cowgirl lifestyle a whirl if you’re interested. We’ll even supply the rope if that’s what you fancy.”

Her brain went straight to the gutter and she had trouble focusing after riding lessons.

She recalled a song she and Rodney had heard on the radio while holed up in Oklahoma. The chorus of the song told listeners to save a horse and ride a cowboy. They’d laughed their asses off as Rodney had twirled her around the small kitchen in a ridiculous city-folk attempt at Texas two-stepping.

“Hey, there you guys are.” Todd, one of the owners of the B&B, appeared from a back hallway. Bridget had only seen him briefly the night before. “I was starting to worry.”

“We got sidetracked by a pretty lady,” Matt said, winking at her.

She wasn’t sure how that simple gesture, which would have seemed somewhat creepy in the city, could be so charming here. Her core temperature rose another notch.

Todd joined their small group and held out his hand to her. “I’m afraid I didn’t get to introduce myself to you properly last night.” He turned to the cowboys to explain. “Bridget and her companion appeared in the midst of the kitchen fire.”

She hated to say how much that fire ordeal had thrilled Rodney to no end. He’d considered their less-than-noteworthy arrival the first bit of good fortune after several months of shitty luck and declared no one would even remember they were there. She was quickly destroying that luck. She was supposed to be invisible, not engaging in a conversation with three men, two of whom hadn’t taken their eyes off her since entering the house. She struggled to regret that, but it was turning her on too much. It was a bit disconcerting to discover her libido outranked her sense of self-preservation.

“Bridget Carson,” she said, quickly recalling the fake name Rodney had used last night when they checked in.