Page 39 of Risking it for the Cowboy

“Thaddeus Welsh’s famous nasturtiums paintings. When in doubt, I look to my favorite thing.” She shrugged, smiling wanly. “Flowers.”

She dropped her thumb, but he caught it. Bringing it up to his lips, his words hoarse and throat feeling thick because no one had ever made his name sound beautiful before until this paleobotanist just had. “Flower Girl,” he whispered.

“Trouble…”

“Maybe Thaddeus then,” he breathed, kissing her thumb, still captured in his grip. “To you.”

“You really think I’m good enough to play with you guys?”

He grimaced now. How could she sound uncertain? “Fan mail’s been off the charts wanting to know who you are.”

She hadn’t conceded a deal about him fixing her car, but he maneuvered around her to her open hood anyway.

“Triple A said they couldn’t be here for three hours,” she said, following him as he stripped off his plaid shirt, jamming it into his back pocket like a grease rag, and cocked back his beat-up Stetson.

He felt her gaze scrutinizing his profile as he ripped a strip of tape loose with his perpetually stained fingernails—it didn’t matter how much he washed them. Years of manual labor had taken their toll—tore it with his teeth and let it dangle from his mouth as he tore off another piece.

Finding the hole easily, he reached in and began twining the duct tape around it.

“What’s that gonna do?” She, too, leaned in, her flat tummy he’d once lavished with kisses and traced stretch marks with his tongue grazing against his elbow.

Goose bumps shot up his arm. “Sheal the bushted radiator hoshe.” He spoke through the tape still clenched in his teeth as his fingers deftly maneuvered the tape around the hose.

“Huh, duct tape really does fix everything,” she said in mild awe.

He took out the piece from his mouth. “It’ll get you parked somewhere safe, but that’s about it.”

She was still scrutinizing his face. He could feel the caress of her gaze everywhere, firing his blood.

“Okay, yeah, if I can just get it home, three more miles, I can start shopping around mechanics on Monday for a rate that won’t break the bank—”

“Let’s get’er out to my place now. I’ll drop it off in your driveway first thing tomorrow morning.”

“You can’t do that,” she argued. “It’s one in the morning. You’re going to work all night just to fix it? And how will we get home? Don’t you need to sleep?”

“I can change one of these over my morning coffee with one hand tied behind my back.”

She leveled a disbelieving glare at him.

He doubled down. “An easy fix. Scout’s honor.”

She shook her head. She hadn’t bought that scout bullshit the first night, either. “You’re just going to fix it for me? You just have random spare radiator hoses for Rovers sitting around?”

He had access to all the parts he needed, but the passenger door creaked open.

Charlie abandoned her face-off and dashed around the vehicle. “Daisy. Get back in.”

“What’s wrong?” the girl said.

“Just some car trouble, nothing to worry about but get in because we’re on the side of a highway, Dais—”

“It’s Mr. McClintock!” Daisy exclaimed.

The girl’s face split into a grin, and she threw herself at him, flinging her arms around his waist.

T.R. laughed and draped an arm down around her. “Hey, girlie, you know my middle name is Rex? So it’s T. Rex to you.” He made dino claws.

“T. Rex!” Daisy crowed.