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she was no raving beauty.
    No, she was feeling rather unabashed and resentful. Hot tears welled in her eyes. Maybe Ava isn’t so crazy. Cocky, that’s what he is. Maybe Ava gave him just what he deserved. I’d like to give him what he deserves. Not really, I’d like to give him anything he wants.
    Those very thoughts angered her more than Mike’s rejection.
    She ripped the rubber band that held her ponytail out of her hair. Her long locks tumbled wildly over her shoulders when she raked her harried hands through it. One furious kick sent the rickety chair toppling over. She grabbed several of the empty Copenhagen cans and hurled them at the small TV. With a swipe of one arm, she sent the race programs flying from the desk to scatter over the floor.
    She stopped and buried her face in her hands. Men like Mike West only look at beautiful women. How do they put it? “Beauty is only skin deep, but ugly is to the bone.” Is that how he sees me? Bone ugly?
    Needing to calm down, she picked up the chair and plopped down in it. A long sigh escaped her and she wiped the tears from her flushed cheeks.
    It is what it is, she ruefully decided.

    Mike hurried from the O’Conner stable. He wanted to get as much distance between him and Margie’s dinner invitation as possible.
    He was concerned that there may be a small calculated risk in having dinner at Coco’s place with her preparing the dinner—on a stove.
    Actually, he was feeling bad. He had hurt Margie’s feelings. C’mon. She didn’t really think I wanted to have dinner with her. Not that she isn’t a perfectly nice person. She just isn’t my type. I’m not sure whose type she would be.
    Mike’s guilt-trip was interrupted when he bumped into Scott and sent the poor guy to the pavement. He whipped his hand out to help him up. “Sorry, man, I didn’t see you.”
    “No problem.” Scott was jovial as always. “What’re you doing here?”
    “I came by to see Margie.”
    Scott’s voice sounded stiff. “Margie?”
    Mike found the change in his tone and the look in his eyes surprising. It was the look of suspicion and jealousy. How weird is that? “Yeah, again, sorry I knocked you over.” He clapped his hand on Scott’s shoulder while trying to smooth any ruffled feathers before hurrying on his way.
    Shell-shocked, Scott stared while Mike disappeared around the corner. Why would Mike West ever want to spend five minutes with Margie? He pressed through the barn door at the same time she stepped out of the office. His eyes grew to the size of dinner plates at the sight of her adjusting her flannel shirt. Her hair was askew, her cheeks were flushed, and she wore a resolute expression in her eyes.
    She stopped when she noticed him. “Scott, what’re you doing here?”
    He stared at her for a moment before blinking hard. “I forgot my book.” He reached for the paperback on the bucket.
    “Oh.” She hummed along with Tammy Wynette on the radio, “ Stand by your man ...” while strolling down the aisle.

    Five
    Tilting back his head, the golden Cocker Spaniel let out a growl mixed with a whine while wagging his tail in an effort to capture Coco’s attention.
    It was all for not.
    She was much too busy caressing her plump lips with a pink blush lipstick. She sat back in the zebra-striped chair to admire her handiwork in the vanity mirror. Her blonde hair cascaded around her downy shoulders, and her supple breasts lifted from the black satin and lace bra.
    The three-caret diamond stud earrings that her ex-husband, Henry, had given her for her thirtieth birthday winked at her from the open jewel box. She picked them up and dipped them into her earlobes. They glimmered in the soft glow of her bedroom.
    Every time she wore the earrings she would think of her ex.
    Henry Snodgrass was an investment counselor to some of the world’s most influential and wealthy people. Almost twenty-five years Coco’s senior, he had been widowed only four months when her father had