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Love’s Sweet Revenge(60)

By:Rosanne Bittner


“Well, I hope they were complimentary in their descriptions.”

Jake winked at her. “Very complimentary.”

Gretta laughed again. The store owner hurried into the dressing room, glancing from Gretta to Jake and back to Gretta.

“Gretta MacBain, how many times do I have to tell you to stay out of this store?” The short, balding man reached over and nervously took the suit coat down. “Sir? Do you intend to buy this?”

Jake kept his eyes on Gretta. “I do. Just give me a minute.”

“I’m sorry this woman intruded on you like this,” the owner told Jake, turning to glower at Gretta over spectacles that had slid down his narrow nose.

“I don’t mind at all,” Jake answered. “In fact, why don’t you go out there and do whatever you need to do? I’ll get the rest of this suit off and be along in a minute.”

The man sucked in his breath, then scowled at Gretta again as he walked to the curtained doorway and looked up at Jake. “Sir, are you sure you should be alone back here with…with this woman? I mean, if she’s bothering you—”

Jake grinned broadly. “Am I supposed to be afraid of her? Should I strap on my guns?”

Gretta laughed heartily and deliberately gave the owner a hungry once-over. “Henry Porter, when are you going to come on over and see me? I can show you things I’ll bet your wife never even thought of doing to you.”

Henry blushed. “Gretta, you have to stop coming in here!”

“Hell, it’s good for your business.” Gretta looked him over again. “Or are you afraid people will gossip and say you spend time here in the back room with me? Maybe you really want to come back here with me.”

Henry sniffed. “You are shameless and…and you have a dirty mind!”

“Yeah, and I’m having fun with both.”

The man turned even redder before turning to dart through the doorway. “It’s your reputation, Mr. Harkner!” he called back.

“Mister, don’t you be worrying about my reputation. There isn’t a damn thing anyone can say about me that hasn’t been said before, and most of it is probably true.” He looked Gretta over appreciatively as he spoke, and they shared more laughter. “It’s like you just said,” Jake told Gretta. “Women like you raised me. I have some very good friends who are of your…profession.”

She let out another bawdy laugh. “I’ll just bet you do! What did you do—ask around the first time you came to Denver to find out who the best whores were and where they could be found?”

“I didn’t have to ask. Men down at the stockyards talk.”

“Did they tell you I own a whole house full of ladies who know most of those men?”

“Something like that.” Jake removed the tie. “And how did you know who I am?”

She walked closer and took the tie from him. “Honey, do you really need to ask that? I mean, look at you! Everybody knows who Jake Harkner is. The only man in this whole state who might be a tad more handsome is that son of yours.” She began unbuttoning his shirt for him. “You have a way of making everything and everyone else in a room just disappear. All eyes turn to you. I did see you once last year. You were out shopping with your family. Everybody knew who you were, and I probably would have guessed, even if someone hadn’t told me.” She pulled the shirt down over his shoulders, revealing sleeveless underwear that accented his muscled arms. She ran a hand over his chest and down over his stomach suggestively. “Damn, you smell good.”

“Just came from the bathhouse—got a shave and a haircut, too. I was a mess from bringing in a herd of cattle, and a couple of nights of no sleep.”

“Now why on earth would you go two nights with no sleep?”

Jake let her pull off the shirt. “Personal. And what the hell are you doing in a men’s clothing store?” he asked as he pulled his hands out of the sleeves.

“Looking for men, of course.”

“Me in particular?”

“Maybe.” She licked her lips. “And unlike Henry out there, I’ll bet there isn’t one thing I could say that would embarrass you one little bit.”

“No, ma’am. I’ve seen it all and done it all.” Jake put his hands on his hips. “So, should I buy the suit?”

“Mister, when you walk in to the Cattlemen’s Ball in that suit and that silver brocade waistcoat I see lying over the chair there, women will faint. And I’ve seen your wife. She’s a beautiful woman. You will make quite a pair.”

Jake nodded. “If I make women faint, my wife will make men’s jaws drop. Their cigars will fall right out of their mouths when she walks into the room.”