Page 3 of Last Chance Cowboy
There were very valid reasons that she wasn’t amped to jump into anything like that. Of course, she also felt like she was being left behind, that she was tragically inexperienced for a woman of twenty-four, and that if she looked at Zane for too long, she was going to spontaneously combust.
Those things were related.
“No combusting,” she said to herself as she got out of her little car and grabbed her basket full of rolls.
She looked like Little Pink Riding Hood, well, without the hood. But she felt a little bit like she was heading toward the Big Bad in Wolf’s cabin.
It was a cabin. Small and rough-hewn, set back in the trees. There was a wide front porch that had a rocking chair on it. There were no planter boxes, no landscaping at all. All the plants around the cabin grew wild. Ferns and manzanita, and behind it, towering pine trees that created shade over the whole place.
It was a beautiful, peaceful spot, and if the trail were anywhere near his house, she could understand his resistance.
She took a step toward the house, and then, there was a rustling in the bushes just to the left of the house.
She stopped, clutching her basket and holding it to her chest.
Was it a bear? A deer? A squirrel, maybe, since they did make an awful racket for their size. She could fight a squirrel.
Everything else was a firm no.
But, she wanted to know what it was so she could decide whether to run, stand her ground, or dash back down the hill.
A figure came around the side of the foliage, neither bear, deer, nor squirrel.
Just the Big Bad Wolf himself.
Zane.
He held a black cowboy hat in his hand and wore a pair of blue jeans that rested precariously low on his hips.
He wasnotwearing a shirt.
His dark hair was wet and pushed off his forehead. His body was…
She swallowed hard.
His chest was broad and muscular, covered in dark hair, his abdomen ridged and glorious.
She hadn’t seen him shirtless before, and she really hadn’t known how beautiful he was.
He was the type of guy who was clearly built, even fully clothed, so she’d suspected, certainly, but she hadn’t reallyknown.
Now she did.
Her mouth was so dry she couldn’t swallow.
“What are you doing here?”
He stood there, looking at her, and he could not have had a less welcoming expression on his face. He was angry that she was there. That much was obvious.
Walker had made this seem like a fun, easy little proposition. She should’ve known better than to listen to him. He was the kind of man who got women into trouble, because he seemed light and free and easy, and also charming, and then the things he said seemed like they might be true, but of course they weren’t.
Zane was glaring at her like he wanted to roll her down the hill she had just driven up.
“I brought you some rolls,” she said, lifting the basket.
He jerked his head back, and she thought again of her analogy regarding horses. Right now, he looked like a wary stallion.
“What kind?”
