Just Once by Julianna Keyes

other side of the barn. Sit out with me and have a beer.”
    My mouth opens and closes soundlessly. Truth be told, I don’t really know why I’m still in the van except that nowhere else seemed better. Until now.
    I get out and follow him around the barn, which, true to his word, has a large silver Airstream trailer parked on the far side. A small porch has been added to the front, and two Adirondack chairs sit to one side, overlooking the paddock.
    “How have I never seen this before?” I ask as I follow Shane onto the porch and take a seat. He opens a cooler and pulls out a beer. He twists off the cap and hands it over, our fingers touching a second longer than necessary.
    He shrugs and retrieves his beer from the railing, taking a long swallow. “So what happened?” he asks.
    I close my eyes and drink. How do I recount the events without sounding like a teenage girl myself? I decide to skip the Cassidy Reyes stuff and just tell him about Janie. I start at the beginning, with her attitude around the ranch, and finish with the missed slap.
    “She tried to hit you?” he echoes in disbelief.
    “I’ve never been in this position before,” I moan. “I just…I don’t know.”
    “It might explain why you’re so tight,” he says.
    “I’m not uptight! For Christ’s sakes, why do people here keep saying that?” My whole life I’ve been chastised for not being prim and proper enough, and now I can’t seem to escape the charge.
    “I said tight ,” Shane repeats, “not uptight.” The look on his face suggests he might be reconsidering.
    I take another swallow of beer. “Sorry.”
    “Come inside.”
    I choke. “I beg your pardon?”
    “Let me work on your shoulder.”
    The porch is lit with a tiny string of chili pepper lights glowing red and orange along the perimeter, but it’s not enough to show me the intention in Shane’s dark eyes. I can guess at his plans, however, and I’m pretty sure going into that trailer will only lead to one thing.
    “I can’t go in there,” I say.
    “Why not?”
    “You know why. My…reputation.”
    He laughs. “Your reputation? What is it you want to be known as? The uptight manager or the woman with a loose shoulder?”
    I can’t help but smile. I don’t think it’s my shoulder people will be calling loose. But still—each time I lift the bottle to my lips I feel a painful twinge in my back.
    “Nothing can happen,” I say.
    He shrugs. “Nothing will happen. I’ll fix your shoulder and send you on your way.”
    I finish the beer and set down the bottle.
    “Promise? I’ve had a bad night. I don’t want to fight with you too.”
    He extends a pinkie finger, mocking me. “I promise, Kate. No matter how much you beg me, I’m not going to fuck you.”
    I freeze, pinkie finger halfway extended. “Jesus, Shane.”
    He wraps his finger around mine. “Pinkie swear,” he whispers, and it sounds like a threat.

Chapter Seven
    I F OLLOW S HANE I NTO T HE T RAILER . He flips on a light, and I blink to let my eyes adjust as the door closes behind me. It’s surprisingly spacious and fastidiously neat—there’s not an item out of place. Even the coffee table is bare. Off to the left is a tiny kitchen, next to which is a door that presumably leads to a bathroom. We’re in the living room, and to the right is a sliding door, presently open, that leads to a bedroom with a neatly made queen-size bed.
    “Come on,” Shane says over his shoulder. He sits on the edge of the bed and unlaces his boots. “Get in here.”
    I take a few steps forward. What am I doing? I know that some part of me desperately wants him to fix more than just my shoulder, but tonight feels wrong. I’m on edge, this is not a smart idea, and I have promised myself that I would be smarter. I know bad things happen to stupid girls. As ridiculous as it sounds, I believe Shane’s pinkie promise. It’s myself I don’t trust. Older, wiser Kate is on shaky ground at the moment.
    “This isn’t a