Page 4

She was here to break her dry spell, to be shown a good time and that, she wasn’t just an object with a good butt—the biggest downside of being a butt model.

She could show it off in magazine ads and swimsuit catalogs. Actors chose her as their body double on a regular basis, which was the best compliment. But nobody saw what was inside her. Not really.

The only man who’d ever come close… Well, they couldn’t make it work. End of story.

The best thing that had come out of their relationship was the daughter he blessed Sloane with. Marigold was her life.

With any luck, this week would fill her soul enough to let her carry on for a long time. It had to. She could set aside her own needs and focus on being a single mother.

She looked out the window at the ranch. She’d always wanted to come to

Alaska, and not only because her ex, Shaw Sheridan, center for the top team in the NHL, always asked her to visit Alaska with him. That never panned out, just like nothing with him panned out.

Well, she wasn’t here for Shaw. She was here for herself. To get over her ex.

She peeked at Dylan out of the corner of her eye and found him watching her, a sexy look that could only be anticipation front and center on his handsome face.

Oh yes, she’d come to the right place.

After a whirlwind arrival, Dylan showed her into the lodge. The women she’d flown in with, as well as a few others, milled around a large room. It was weirdly silent, lacking the chatter that filled dressing rooms or went on in the stage wings of fashion shows.

“Name?” A pretty woman with shiny dark hair held an iPad tucked close to her chest.

She glanced around. “Sloane Simpson. What’s going on?”

“Sloane. Got you down right here.” She smiled at her. “We’re getting you ready for the selection process.”

“Is there any way to change clothes before that happens? It rained on me.”

The woman looked her over. “Honey, you could be drowned and the guys would still fight over you.”

Sloane’s lips popped open in surprise.

The woman shook her head. “Sorry. Of course you’ll want to look your best for when you go on. Come right over here and let our team take care of you.”

The team she spoke of consisted of someone to blot the raindrops, that hadn’t already dried, off her face and sweep translucent powder over her skin. A stylist wielded a blow dryer and gave Sloane a quick blowout that smoothed the frizz and left her hair shiny. Several other women were getting similar treatment.

Minutes later, feeling as much like herself as she could when she was about to be paired with a man she would spend an entire week in bed with, the dark-haired woman gestured to Sloane again.

“You’re on, sugar. Woohoo, those cowboys are gonna be slapping those buttons when they get a load of you.” Her drawl hadn’t seemed so pronounced before, but it lent her words more impact. She grabbed Sloane by the arm and towed her to the wings of the stage.

Warm spotlights lit the rustic wood floor but made it impossible to see who was in the audience.

Sloane wet her dry lips. “What happens next?”

The woman gave her a little nudge. “Get out there and find out!”

Sloane dealt with a lot of pressure to perform in her life, but never had her heart thumped as loud or as hard as it did when she walked across that stage and stopped to face the row of cowboys she could now see seated in the front row.

“Our first lady seeking a Boot Knocker is Sloane—” The announcer never got a chance to finish her sentence, as several palms immediately came down on their buttons to fight for a week with her.

* * * * *

Dylan always got a boost from the ceremony. While the clients on the ranch were paired with the best cowboy to help them long before their arrival, there were times when the plan went to hell.

When Shaw took a seat in the row with the other Boot Knockers, even though it was his week off, he knew this was going to be fun. He respected the hell out of Shaw. He’d call him closer than a friend…but he was always open to getting closer.

Dylan leaned forward to see around the two guys sitting between them. Shaw stared straight ahead at the stage, his jaw locked. His fist hovered over the button before the woman ever set foot on stage.