Damn, but she smelled fucking fantastic.
“I see you managed to find the rest of your wardrobe.” Her voice was cool and composed, but I saw the effort it was taking not to jump up and head back outside. Or pick up a fork and stab me.
I chuckled, the sound deep in my chest. Her voice had a sharp, intelligent bite that I liked way too much. “Had to. Lucinda’s got a strict no-towel policy in the dining hall. Devastating, I know, but I figured I’d spare the other guests the heart attacks.”
I brushed my shoulder against hers. Another deliberate move on my part. I wanted her aware of me every single second she sat there. “It’s Slade, remember? And what should I call you? Besides darlin’, of course.” That earned me a sharp eye roll, but she answered.
“Jamie. Jamie Parker.”
I didn’t offer my last name. She didn’t look like someone who followed the circuit, but I didn’t want to chance it. I just wanted her to think of me as the man she’d seen wearing a towel and nothing else. No titles. No world standings. Just a man who wanted a woman.
She was saved further conversation with me by Lucinda and Carl coming out of the kitchen carrying the evening meal. I jumped up to help. I’d eaten too many meals around their kitchen table to consider myself just another guest. Carl had been riding broncs when I first started rodeoing and had saved my ass too many times to count.
The Wild Vista Ranch was the place I sometimes came to unwind between shows. But now, with my shoulder was still too busted to ride and my uncertain future looming ahead of me, it was the place I called home.
“So, Jamie,” Lucinda said as the food was being passed around. “I see you’ve met Slade. Everyone, Jamie’s our newest guest, all the way from the city. She’s a librarian. Probably knows more than all of us put together.”
A librarian. I looked at the way her glasses sat on the bridge of her nose and the sassy set of her mouth. I wanted to see those glasses on my nightstand and that mouth wrapped around me. I had to shift to ease the increasingly tight fit of my jeans.
“A librarian, huh?” I reached for the tea pitcher and poured us both a glass, making sure my hand brushed hers as I set it down.
The contact wasn’t just a spark. It was a heavy, thudding kick of desire that went straight to my cock. The way she stiffened told me she felt the weight of it, too. I didn’t pull away. I let my fingers linger against her skin, watching as her breathing went shallow.
I leaned close again. The movement made my shirt strain against my chest, and I saw the swift flicker of her eyes as she took me in. I did my share of taking her in as well. The slight tremble in her hand as she held her fork. The restless tension that was radiating off her like the hot Texas sun. She might be fighting the attraction sizzling between us, but her body was a damn traitor. Her nipples were pressing against her blouse, begging for my mouth. The same way my cock was begging for hers.
“Do you like to read, Little Miss Librarian? I bet I can guess what you like to read. Some naughty stories under an innocent cover. Reminds me of you.”
That earned me a sharp, lethal look.
“Careful, City Girl,” I whispered. “In this part of the world, we don’t just tell stories. We live ‘em. And I’ve got a feeling your story is about to get a whole lot more interesting.”
“I specialize in fiction, cowboy. I know a tall tale when I see one.” She looked me over with a hint of disdain, which just made my smile grow wider. God, I loved a woman with a backbone. It made the prospect of bending her to my will that much sweeter.
I wanted to be her story. I wanted to see her underneath me, those curves pressed into the mattress while I showed her exactly how a bull rider earned his reputation for endurance.
She didn’t stay for dessert. She bolted the second she finished her dinner, her hips swaying in a way that made me want to get up and follow her right then and find out if she was wearing lace or silk under that tight denim skirt.
I took a long, slow sip of my iced tea, watching her disappear out the door. My cock was still throbbing, pulsing against my jeans with a need that wasn’t going away. I’d spent my life taming bulls, but Jamie... Jamie was going to be the most satisfying ride of my life.
And I was going to make sure we both enjoyed every second of it.
CHAPTER THREE
Jamie
I was on a mission. A mission for a signal.
A signal that had apparently packed its bags and fled the state after dinner last night.
I’d tried leaning out the window at a precarious angle, standing on my cabin’s small porch, and even holding it up toward the sky like I was offering a virgin sacrifice to the cellular gods. Nothing. Not even a teasing little bar of connection.
“Paige is going to think I actually ran away,” I muttered, trekking down the path toward the stables. Lucinda had mentioned at breakfast that the signal was best near the north barn. Barns were on my do-not-enter list. Ever. But I was willing to climb a windmill if it meant I could tell my best friend I hadn’t been eaten by a coyote.
Or a cowboy.
I shut the thought down quickly even though I’d already been thinking about him this morning. I’d woken up thinking about him.
The cowboy in the towel. The one that hadn’t been at breakfast. I was not going to think about that sliver of disappointment that had snaked its way inside over my biscuits and gravy.
