“The kind with a towel wrapped around his waist.”
She squealed so loudly I had to hold the phone away from my ear. “Oh, my God. What happened?”
“Nothing.” Disappointment rose inside me.
“Nothing? You were in a cabin with a man, wearing nothing but a towel and nothing happened? Did you at least flirt a little?”
“No. Of course not.”
“Of course not. I swear, Jamie, when are you going to take control of your own life? Honey. I love you but I told you what you needed.”
“You told me I needed a cowboy—”
“To rub your—”
“Yes, Paige, I remember.”
“And there he was. In a towel. And you left.”
“He was a stranger in a cabin.”
“He was a gift from the universe, and you handed him back.”
“Goodnight, Paige.”
“If you hang up this phone I will drive to Texas myself—”
I hung up.
She texted before the screen went dark.Go back, Jamie. The universe opened that door for you. Don’t close it because you’re scared.
I put the phone face down on the bedspread and got up to unpack, determined not to think about the cowboy with amber eyes, wearing nothing but a towel.
CHAPTER TWO
Slade
Being the reigning World Champion Bull Rider came with a lot of perks, but privacy wasn’t one of them. After I’d gotten thrown in Vegas and busted my shoulder, every tabloid from here to Nashville was looking for a story about the fallen king.
They wanted a scoop. I wanted to figure out what the hell I was going to do. Go back on the circuit and defend my crown, or pack it all in while I could still walk away.
I’d come to Wild Vista for peace, quiet, and a place to let my shoulder knit back together without a camera lens shoved in my face every time I walked outside my door. What I hadn’t expected was a brown-haired whirlwind with a smart mouth and a body that had been burned into my brain since she’d burst into my cabin.
I sat at the long oak table in the dining hall, leaning back and watching the door like a wolf at a fence line. I didn’t even know her name yet, but I knew exactly how she’d looked when she’d been trying to act like she wasn’t staring at the way my towel had barely hung on my hips.
“Structural integrity,” I muttered to myself, a grin tugging at my mouth. The way her eyes had tracked the water rolling down my stomach told me she was interested in a lot more than the thread count.
She was a little firecracker, and I wanted to see what would light her up.
Finally, at the last possible moment before dinner was served, she walked in.
She’d changed, wearing another sensible blouse that hugged her curves the way I wanted to hug them. She wore a denim skirt that fell just above her knees, showing off a pair of spectacular legs. I could already picture them wrapped around my waist, those glasses fogging up as she breathed my name.
She still had on those pink boots with that looked straight from a department store. I hoped she’d broken them in before coming here, or she wouldn’t be able to walk for a week. Of course, my mind went straight where it had no business going. Me. Breaking her in until she couldn’t walk for a week.
She caught my eye and froze for a heartbeat. Her face flushed a deep, delicious red. She looked around like a trapped animal, then sighed in defeat. There was only one empty seat left at the table. Right beside me.
“Evening, neighbor,” I rumbled as she sat down. I leaned over deliberately, wanting to see if she smelled as good as she looked. Her hair was pulled high atop her head in a messy bun, and I was not disappointed. No overpowering perfume. Just the sweet, almost innocent scent of her shampoo. And her.
