Strangely upset, she grabbed one bottle and poured a generous amount over her hair.Why on earth would it upset her that he had shampoo for women?Of course he’d have women over, he was single and gorgeous and sexy…
Fed up with her thoughts, she got out of the shower.What he did or didn’t do had nothing to do with her.
*
Hunter tried toprepare himself for when Willow would walk into his kitchen, but even before he heard her behind him, he had trouble breathing.He hadn’t even turned around to look at her yet.It happened every time he saw the tall, leggy brunette.
As the sister of the Weston brothers of the Weston ranch, she was practically royalty around these parts.As a well-known artist, known for her beautiful Montana landscapes, she moved in totally different circles to what he was used to.Her favorite drink was champagne, she dressed in soft flowing clothes that seemed to move with her slender body, something that had been driving him crazy ever since he’d seen her the first time.
Rumor around town was she was cold, had no heart, and shot down any man daring to come close to her.Apparently, nobody had ever seen her cry.
Nobody needed to tell him she was way out of his league.He was a beer-drinking cowboy who loves the silence of a ranch and who avoided cities and people as far as he could.Worse, even though he was a cowboy, he cried.Babies, soppy movies, books, people suffering, animals suffering, he had a hard time not bawling his eyes out.
Willow Weston was also known for being difficult, for not suffering fools.And according to just about every source in town, she wasstrange, obviously saddled with loads of emotional baggage.
Although she was one of the most beautiful women he’d ever met, he’d vowed to stay clear of anyone with issues of any kind.Been there, done that and realized everyone had to solve their own problems.Nobody else could do it for you.
He’d still been studying Agricultural Sciences at University of Colorado twelve years ago when he’d met the beautiful Linda Harrison.Only later, he’d discovered how unstable she was.He wasn’t equipped or even had the inclination to listen to someone else’s temper tantrums, ranting, and manipulation.When he’d walked away, she’d made his life very uncomfortable for a few months with phone calls and texts until she’d disappeared one day.Somewhere, he’d heard she’d left the university and had moved back home.
It was no secret in the small town of Marietta that all the Westons, including the beautiful Willow, were carrying scars after their brother’s untimely death.Over time he’d heard so many versions of the story, it was difficult to know what really happened.
The tall brunette, with legs that seemed to go on forever, had caught his eye when he’d arrived in Marietta the first time.He’d just started working on the Circle C, another ranch outside town, when he’d seen her in Grey’s Saloon.
She’d kinda knocked his breath from his chest for a few moments but when the other cowboys with him had seen his stunned look, they’d quickly filled him in.Willow Weston didn’t date, rarely mingled with other people besides her family and friends, and she definitely wouldn’t look sideways at a lowly cowboy.Stay away.
He’d managed to do just that until he’d stepped into Grey’s Saloon the previous night and saw her sitting at the bar trying to get rid of Cyrus Jones, a cowboy who worked on a neighboring ranch.His first instinct had been to go and rescue her, but he’d been at the end of her glares enough times to know not to approach without caution.
“What happened last night?”she demanded behind him.
Turning to face her, he had to put out a hand to steady himself against the kitchen counter.His knees were actually buckling.Damn, she was something.Not only was she more beautiful than other woman he knew, there was also something in the way she held her head, the expression in her eyes, he found mesmerizing.
Paler than usual, but clearly ready for battle as always.She’d found her clothes he’d left on the bed and was dressed, her long, brown tresses, still wet, hanging over her shoulder.
“So, what happened last night?”she repeated, not quite looking him in the eye.
He picked up one of the mugs.“Coffee?”
She nodded.
As he handed her the mug, their fingers touched.Briefly, but the slight contact was enough to send all his blood south.Damn, she was killing him and completely oblivious to the fact.
Grabbing her bag that he’d left on the table for her, she rummaged through it.Probably looking for her phone.
Clearing his throat, he took a sip of his coffee.“I saw you were tossing back way too many tequila shots while trying to get rid of Cyrus Jones.When you finally got up, you were clearly in no state to walk, let alone drive.”
Her eyes flashed.What color were they?Not quite blue, not quite purple, but something in between.
“So what did you do?Brought me home and… and had sex with me?”
He gnashed his teeth and counted to ten, a trick his mom had taught him way back when.“I helped you to my truck.It was late, I didn’t think you’d appreciate it if I phoned your mother or any of your brothers at one o’clock in the morning and you were in no state to communicate.I couldn’t leave you there, so I brought you home.You were sick on your way here.I had to undress you and wash you…”
She jumped up.“So that’s how you explain me being naked?”
“Didn’t think you’d like to wake up with puke all over you.”
Dropping her head in her hand, she groaned out loud.A sound that went straight to his loins.Damn it.
She slowly lifted her head again.“So did we?Have… sex?”
