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they’re too experienced for an amateur .”
    â€œAnd that,” she replied with her best snotty little smirk, “is exactly why I need experience of my own.” Point made, game over.
    â€œJan, sweetie,” Amelia said, “I love your new look.”
    â€œThanks.” Jan preened a bit, the way she’d seen girls do when someone complimented their clothes.
    â€œHaven’t you heard?” Mick butted in snidely. “It’s the New Jan Plan. Everyone’s talking about it. Dr. Phil’s doing a whole series—”
    â€œYou’re a jerk.” Jan backed it up with an elbow.
    Amelia looked thoughtful. “The New Jan Plan. I like it.” She smiled kindly. “Not that you need to change, sweetie. But you can count on me and Ray to support you. Right, Ray?”
    Ray lifted his beer. “I stand firmly behind women in short skirts.”
    â€œEspecially when they’re walking upstairs.” That was Tyrell chiming in. He smiled all over Jan, and her cheeks went up in flames. The rest of her body followed.
    Mick muttered something under his breath about Texans staying in Texas with the other Texans, where they belonged. Jan looked down her nose at him. “What’s your problem?”
    â€œNo problem,” he grumbled. “Except that bogus drawl, like he’s got a mouthful of cotton candy.”
    â€œThat’s how much you know. That drawl is pure gold. If you had that drawl . . . well, you’ve already got women throwing themselves at you. The drawl would be wasted on you.”
    â€œI wouldn’t want it anyway. It sounds phony.” He faked a twang in Jan’s ear. “Howdy, ma’am, I just swaggered in from herdin’ steers on my ranch.” A cynical snort. “As if any idiot can’t sit on a horse and push a bunch of dumb cows around a field—”
    Tyrell chose that moment to unfold his rangy frame from his chair. “I’d like to make a toast,” he said, lifting his glass. “To the bride, a beautiful lady with a heart of gold. Julie, honey, welcome to the family.”
    Cody leaned over and kissed her as everyone clinked glasses.
    But Tyrell wasn’t done. “Growin’ up on the ranch,” he drawled, prompting a triumphant snort from Mick, “I would’ve given just about anything for a sister. Somebody smaller than I was, who Cody could stuff into a feed bag, or dangle from the hayloft, or shove into the manure pile instead of always picking on me.”
    He flashed that smile, and Jan melted.
    Mick grunted derisively. “Speaking of manure.”
    She ignored him, hanging on Tyrell’s words.
    â€œI finally got my wish,” he went on, beaming at Julie, “a little sister to distract my big brother. And Julie, darlin’, you’ve got all his attention. He hasn’t shoved me in a manure pile since he met you.”
    Everyone laughed except Mick. He draped his arm across Jan’s chair and said in her ear, “Any minute he’ll start in about his horse—”
    â€œShh!”
    â€œYou can’t seriously think this guy’s funny.”
    â€œYeah, I do,” she hissed through her teeth. “And I think you’re jealous because he’s just as hot as you are. Maybe hotter.”
    J EALOUS?
    Hotter?
    Mick sat back and simmered, watching Jan watch Tyrell as he droned on about—wait for it—his horse. As predicted.
    Eventually the guy sat his ass down and everybody clapped. Clapped , for Christ’s sake, like he was Jimmy Kimmel or something.
    Amelia stood up to toast Cody, but her words flowed past Mick without making a dent. He was fixated on Jan, his focus so tight and deep he could almost hear her heartbeat.
    She looked beautiful, lit up from inside, glowing like a candle, and it dawned on him that he’d always taken her beauty for granted, selfishly glad it was invisible to everyone else. Like it was