Page 69 of Buck ’Em Cowgirl

“We didn’t.”

Eh. We were close.

Her big green eyes stayed wide, her hands trembling in her lap. “What’re we gonna do now?”

“We’re gonna sit here and wait for the storm to pass before we drive the rest of the way home.”

“Isn’t that dangerous?”

“Safest place to be in a lightning storm is a car. Besides, no one else is dumb enough to be driving right now, so we’re better off waiting.”

She huffed, glancing out into the darkness. “What if the owner of this place comes out with a shotgun or some shit?”

I gestured toward the relentless sheets of rain pelting the truck. “In this storm?”

“Ugh,” she groaned, sinking deeper into her seat, crossing her arms. Her knee bumped mine, a small touch, but I felt it everywhere.

I leaned back, reaching into the back of the truck and pulling out a large, well-worn blanket.

“Can’t say it’s the cleanest. Usually I store my rope on it, but you look cold.”

She hesitated a moment before nodding.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, taking it from me and pulling it up to her chest.

I leaned over, reaching for the lever on the side of her seat. Before she could react, I pulled it, sending her seat back with a sudden jerk.

She gasped, hands gripping the blanket tighter, legs shifting beneath the hem of that damn denim skirt that was already riding too high on her thighs.

My fingers brushed against the bare skin above her knee.

I was a goner.

My jaw tightened, breath hitching as I forced myself back into my seat, propping my legs up on the dashboard like I wasn’t coming apart inside.

“Want to play a game?” I was desperate to distract myself from the way her skin felt against mine again.

Her head rolled toward me, green eyes flickering with curiosity. “What do you have in mind, bull rider?”

I laughed. “Two truths and a lie.”

“That’s the best you’ve got? Thought a bull rider like you would know how to take bigger risks.”

“You trying to call me boring?”

She stretched her legs out, her foot under the blanket nudging mine. “I’m just saying, if we’re stuck in this truck all night, I was expecting a little more excitement. Maybe you’ve lost your edge.”

My jaw ticked as I watched her, heat curling low in my stomach. “Careful, Cowgirl.” My voice dipped. “You keep pushing, you might find out how sharp that edge still is.”

Her smile deepened. “Fine,” she said, tilting her head. “Let’s play. You go first.”

I stretched out a little more, letting my fingers drum lazily against my knee. “Alright. One—I’ve broken three ribs riding. Two—I once got kicked out of a bar for fighting. And three—I hate thunderstorms.”

Her lips pressed together as she studied me, dragging her eyes over my face.

“Hmm,” she murmured, shifting again, the hem of her skirt along with her blanket creeping another inch up her thigh.

This game might kill me.