Page 46 of Risking it for the Cowboy

“Now ain’t that a fine-looking bird,” he was saying in the distance, as Artex’s collar jingled, as water leaked out of the faucet handle while the pot filled, bubbling down the base. “Hey, big fella.”

Ugh. The O-ring seal was wearing out again. She turned the water off.

“Coffee?” she called, sopping up the water with the hand towel, pouring the liquid in the pot.

“Sure.”

She scooped grounds into the filter and pressed brew. “And, Daisy, put Pumpkin down and wash up, then get your book out.”

Daisy groaned. Charlie withdrew her tool bag from the pantry floor, opening it on the counter, and laid out the package of little rubber rings, plucked out her university-issued plumber’s wrench, and dropped to her hands and knees, digging into the back of the cupboard to twist closed the water valve—

“Barefoot in the kitchen.”

She whirled around with wrench raised, knocking her head on the cupboard frame and landing on her rear to see him leaned on the doorframe like the tall drink of water he was, a shit kicker slung across his other ankle and arms folded so that his muscles bulged.

“Ow.”

He threw his palms up and shoved off the doorframe, eyeing her faucet, eyeing the wrench. “Easy, Charlie. Just a joke. You’re hurt.”

She exhaled, shaking her head, as he squatted, sifting his fingers into her hair and inspecting the place where she’d bumped it.

“I’m fine,” she murmured, embarrassed, and yet … relishing his tender touch. “You surprised me.”

He chuckled a rich, languid sound. “Not as surprised as me seein’ you on your hands and knees in these sleep shorts, baby.”

Her face burned as she pulled away—

“Sit still,” he murmured, splaying his knees on either side of her, caging her in, finishing his inspection, letting him dote on her about a tiny bump when she’d survived so much worse.

He was … right here, filling her space. “Atta girl.”

Atta girl? “What am I, a puppy?” she whispered.

He chuckled and stood. “Beg for me, real nice, and I’ll give you a treat. Want some ice, Charlie?”

Charlie. Her name, instead of his nickname for her, sounded intimate. Personal.

“I’m fine.” She took his hand as he hoisted her up, sliding up his front, helping her.

Her skin tingled. Her blood rushed in her ears, at his nearness, and she flipped on the water and drained the line into the sink as he reached around her and plucked up an O-ring, spinning it like a six-shooter around his finger.

“Need help?” he said beside her ear, as hands slipped over hers from behind, arms sliding alongside hers.

She laughed. “You just fixed my radiator hose. I’m not about to ask you to fix my sink.”

“Who’s waitin’ to be asked? Ain’t me.” He chuckled, so close, his chest reverberated against her back.

She glanced back at him, hovering behind her, and his baby blues twinkled as his gaze roved over her messy hair.

“I got it,” she breathed. “Just a leaky ring and old faucet. And, Daisy?”

The girl groaned from the other room. “What, Momma?”

“TV off. Get book. I’ll come read with you in a minute.”

Charlie cranked the wrench, T.R.’s arms around her, as he nudged her fingers away to take over. She fumbled for control. He batted her hands this time, his chest jolting against her back, until he’d mastered control of the wrench, and just when she was about to protest again…

Lips pressed to the bump on her head. Kissing it better.