Page 5 of Protected By the Cowboy

“Tennessee. Moved out here when I graduated high school. Haven’t left since.”

“That’s a big move. Why Rugged Mountain?”

“My brother and I started a ranch out here when land was still affordable. We’ve since split it up and we run our own parcels. Turns out, we’re both too controllin’ to work together.”

She nods and sips more wine. “So, you’re admitting right off that you have a hard time working with others?”

“Absolutely,” I laugh. “What about you? What’s your worst trait?”

Her brows narrow. “Worst trait? I’m too perfect.”

“Ahh, the classics. I like it.” I glance down at the table and up again. “I could see you bein’ too perfect.”

A soft sigh leaves her lips. “For real, the worst trait about me is probably my anxiety. I let it get the best of me, especially lately. I overthink everything and tend to make even the simplest of things way more complicated than they need to be.” She narrows her eyes. “Kind of like this question. Maybe we should get back on topic. How long have we been together?” She ends her rambling with another sip of wine. She might think the anxiety is frustrating, but from the outside, it’s kind of adorable.

“In the fantasy? I don’t know… a year?”

“No. Everyone will bug me about not telling them sooner. What about a month?”

I shrug. “It’s your fantasy. How’d we meet? Do we need a big dramatic story, or could we have met at the grocery store over conversations on apple varieties? You know honey crisp is the superior type.”

Her forehead wrinkles. “Actually, there’s no superior type. They all serve a purpose based on what you’re using them for.”

“Yeah, but we’re talkin’ taste. If you stand them side by side, honey crisp wins. They’re sweet and crisp with a bite of tart at the end.”

“Disagree again. Macintosh is the best. They’re mild and soft enough that you don’t feel like you’re breaking your teeth when you bite into them.” She shakes her head. “We’re getting off topic again. We can’t have met in the grocery store. Our inception has to be something meaningful. How about… you were in the rodeo ring riding, you saw me in the crowd, and instantly had to stop to say hi.”

I laugh. “I’d never do that.”

“Why not?”

“It’s not personal, but I take my job seriously. I’d never stop a ride. Besides, I couldn’t if I wanted to. With bucking bulls, there’s no off switch.”

“Okay. Well… what if you saw me in the crowd and you had to come over and say hi right after your ride?”

“More believable, but I’m achin’ pretty good right after. I’d need a few minutes to limber up. Besides, I’m all sweaty and dusty. I’d want to clean up a little first.”

“No, you can’t clean up. You have to impulsively come looking for me because you can’t stand the fact that another second is going by, and you haven’t claimed me as your own yet.”

I laugh. “Sounds like you’ve had this fantasy before.”

“Just trust me on this one. You saw me in the crowd and had to rush over to me right after your ride.”

“But what about the part where you can’t really see anything when you’re gettin’ tossed around? The whole crowd is a blur. Faces are the last thing I’m lookin’ at. I’m tryin’ to hold on.”

“Right, but that’s the magic of it all.” She sips down more wine. “You’re so enamored by me and my beauty that you saw me through everything else.”

“That’s the thing, though. It’d have to be magic because I literally can’t see things when I’m up there.”

She huffs and rolls her eyes. “You’re making this complicated on purpose.”

“No, I’m tryin’ to make it believable. What if I saw you when you were at the coffee shop? I was comin’ in for a cup, and I couldn’t take my eyes off you and your cute little dress. It was a pink one with hearts on the collar.” I stare toward her, my cock thumping against my zipper. Something is happening, but I’m not sure what.

“You described the dress I wore today.”

I nod. “And what if I invited you back to my place for dinner, made you this meal, and we talked about life right before you named my puppy after a Dolly Parton song?”

Her mouth opens. “What are you doing?”

---