Page 45 of Risking it for the Cowboy

Daisy rounded into the hallway, spotting her. “Let him in, Momma!”

She unlocked the door and pulled it open, as the phone stopped vibrating.

There he stood, facing outward toward the opposite side of the road and the fallow pastures that lay there. Light was just cracking a shard over the eastern hills. She glanced at her phone and the stack of missed calls. All from him, none from Jason.

7:20?

Early. He’d meant it when he’d said first thing.

“Hey.”

He turned around to face the door, taking off his Stetson and holding it at his belly, last night’s plaid shirt hanging loose on his frame, over his grease-stained tee caught on the lip of his belt buckle. His grin lifted the apples of his cheeks, that divot hinting at boyish mischief.

“Hey, Flower Girl, you … sound out of breath,” he said as he took off his sunglasses. “Are you okay?”

Her smile grew. For the moment, yeah, she was. The problem of Jason could wait at least another day while trouble landed in her lap.

“I’m fine now. I was sleeping when you called. Bad dream.” She pushed open the screen door.

He fell silent for a beat as he slipped inside, chest to chest with her as they both turned sideways to make room. His eyes fell to the bat. Brow furrowed.

He pushed her wisps behind her ear. “You have those often?”

She exhaled. “What do I owe you?”

He shook his head, considering her deflection. “Nothin’.”

“I need to pay you,” she argued.

“Parts weren’t much. Don’t worry about it.” His chest reverberated against hers, sideways in the doorway as they were.

His fingers braced hers, taking over holding the door. Dirty calluses snagged on her skin. Memories of what they’d felt like holding her as they worshiped her body, her breasts, so reverently—

She slipped her hand away and stepped over the threshold, as memories of them crashing inside flashed, lips devouring lips, hands yanking at clothing, his hands palming her rear as he lifted her legs around him as if she weighed no more than a feather, bumbling up the stairs as he gruffed for directions but not willing to disentangle his tongue long enough to look for it—

“T. Rex!” Daisy careened into him.

“Hey, girlie!” His baritone reverberated through the walls.

Charlie held her breath at how easily he wrapped an arm around Daisy’s shoulder as she hugged his hips, as if the most natural thing in the world.

“Did you fix Momma’s SUV? Wanna see Pumpkin?”

“Pumpkin?” He chuckled, sliding his shades onto his collar, his neck torquing as he stretched his chin out of the way.

Pumpkin? Oh no. Daisy had already named the chick. It would be that much harder to give it up.

Daisy took his hand and his hat and pulled him forward. He lumbered inside and into Charlie’s world again, smelling mostly like a mechanic’s shop and exertion this time instead of his spicy soap.

“I won him last night.” Daisy had found a loophole in the no livestock rule Charlie had been forced to implement, was what she meant. “The university rules say we can’t keep him.” She pouted. “But for now, he’s okay inside with us…”

Charlie hurried to the kitchen and grabbed the coffeepot, flipping on the sink to fill it. Hating that they couldn’t keep it and that it would break Daisy’s heart.

Her phone buzzed. She glanced at the text.

An automated message from the school district. “Don’t forget. Get dolled up for the annual Daddy-Daughter Dance this Wednesday night. Formal invites for our young ladies arriving by tomorrow.”

Ugh. As if she needed the reminder.