Good Time Cowboy

Mostly, he was confident in the fact that she didnot. Mostly, he was confident in the fact that the kind of heat and fire he’d felt when their skin had made contact last night could not be one-sided.

He wasn’t sure if that was a victory or defeat, but he was certain of it nonetheless.

“Grant says hi,” he mentioned offhandedly, getting the tack out of the horse trailer and beginning the process of readying the animals.

“Does he?” she asked, keeping her tone as smooth and placid as the expression on her face.

She was a beautiful, accomplished little liar, that woman.

“Yes,” he said. “I told him that you...expressed some interest last night.”

“Did you?” There was a small break in her composure. A slight twitch to her brow, a little hitch in her breath.

If she wanted to lie, then two could play that game.

“Yes. He was very interested.”

“Well. That’s...good. Very good. Because, I also am very interested.”

He stood there for a moment, the lead rope to the horse in his hands, his eyes fixed on hers. And he watched as the color mounted in her cheeks. Pink. Tempting. He wanted to kiss those blush-stained cheeks. Hell, he wanted to kiss her everywhere.

He had a feeling that that was written on his face as clearly as the blush was written across hers. “You are shameless, Lindy Parker,” he said, bending down and tightening the girth on the horse’s saddle. Gratified when he could feel her eyes moving over his body as he worked.

“I am not,” she snapped.

He straightened and turned to look at her. “My brother is a grieving man. And you would use him to get at me?”

Lindy’s mouth dropped open, then closed, like a fish. “I am not trying to...get you.”

“I mean to irritate me.”

She sniffed. “Well. If you didn’t think that I wanted to go out with him why did you tell him I did?”

“I didn’t,” he said. And then he winked, because he knew it would enrage her. “But, this was a fun little play we just acted out.”

She treated him to a very teenage facial expression and he couldn’t help but smile, imagining how she might have been when she was younger. Less polished. Less careful. “You’re such an ass.”

She reached into the small purse she was carrying and pulled out a pair of sunglasses, jamming them over her eyes.

As if that would protect her.

He could read her every emotion on that pale skin. He wondered if she knew that. He wondered if anyone had ever told her that anger made her flush a certain shade of rose, that desire made her flush creep down her neck, intensifying the color.

He knew.

He knew, because he had been watching her for the past five years.

There was no way on earth that didn’t sound creepy as hell, but it was the truth.

“Sure. I never said I wasn’t.” He kept staring her down, even while he got the second saddle on the other horse, while he bent down to tighten the girth. “And you started it. You were the one who asked me about Grant.”

“I have a feeling you think there’s something going on here,” she said, her shoulders going even stiffer. “But there isn’t. I wanted to make that clear.”

“All you had to do was say it,” Wyatt said, except, that was a lie too. Because he knew, whatever she said, that she felt this thing that existed between them.

“Okay. There’s nothing happening here,” she said, waving a well-manicured hand, her eyes still shielded by the large, dark glasses.

“All right,” he said. “Saddle up, cowgirl,” he said, gesturing to Trixie, the more placid of the mares.

“All right,” she said, snippy. She placed her foot in the stirrup and hauled herself up on the back of the horse. She wasn’t an experienced horsewoman, not as far as he could see, but she’d definitely been on the back of one before.

With ease, he put himself in the saddle, and maneuvered himself so that he was in the lead position. “How long has it been since you’ve ridden?”

“Oh,” she said, sounding slightly thrown at the change of topic. “I don’t know. Not since I was in high school probably? So...a long time.”

“It’s like riding a bike,” he said. “I assume. I’ve never gone a significant amount of time without being on the back of a horse. Also, I imagine you’re a hell of a lot more saddle sore than you are when you pick up bike riding after a good number of years.”

She huffed out a laugh. “Good to know. I look forward to the screaming muscles. And as I limp around the house, I’ll remember that you’re the reason I can barely walk.”

He thought about letting the moment pass by. But then, he thought no. He was going to take it. “Honey, you are not the first woman to say that to me.”

He couldn’t see her face, but if stiffness was something you could feel in the air, he was certain he felt it now.

“You’re disgusting,” she said.

“That is not the general consensus.”

“See, this really does make me want to go on a date with Grant,” she commented, keeping her tone light. “Because I doubt he would ever say things like that to a lady.”

“Grant has barely spoken to a woman in eight years. I’m not sure he knows what he would say to a lady at this point in time.”

That little bit of unexpected honesty made his chest turn a little bit.

“So he hasn’t... He hasn’t gone out with anyone since his wife died?”

“No.”

“I can understand that,” she said, slowly. “I imagine any experience with marriage makes you think twice about jumping in again.”

“You don’t want to get married again?”

“Right now? No. And I can’t imagine ever willingly submitting myself to that ever again.”

“I don’t think his reasoning is quite the same as yours,” Wyatt pointed out.

“No. I expect it isn’t. But it’s just... More than even the not trusting someone else, it sounds like a lot of work. I was married. I was married for a long time. It’s like, I’ve done it. I’ve seen what that life is like. I’ve seen what it can give me. I’m not really interested in checking it out again.”

“Been there, done that?”