Page 8 of Ride a Cowboy

He shook his head. “Nope.”

She started to ask him what the hell was about to happen, but realized she didn’t need to.

She already knew.

Macie Sparks was going to fall tits over ass for Hank Cooper.

Hell, she was halfway there already.

Chapter 2

Hank leaned down to kiss Macie again. It was the only surefire way to get the woman to shut it all off for a little while. Macie kissed like she did everything else in life—energetically, enthusiastically, and without holding a damn thing back.

It was one of the first things that had drawn him to her. After Sharon’s death, he’d spent weeks walking around in a daze—going through the day without paying attention to anything. He got up, did his job, ate at the appropriate times, and went to bed. He’d become a living zombie.

Then, one night, while he was sitting at the end of the counter at Sparks Barbeque, shoveling in food he wasn’t even tasting, Macie walked over, told him an off-color joke—and he laughed.

The reaction had felt rusty as hell, but good. From that point on, he’d started eating at the restaurant more often, just to listen to Macie tell stories. It was the only time during the day when he felt awake, alive.

When he pulled back, he watched as Macie’s eyes fluttered open, her gaze finding him. She didn’t seem quite as confused as she had a moment ago. In fact, she almost looked as if she had accepted what he’d come to understand these past few weeks.

She was going to be his.

That decision didn’t come to him quickly or easily. He’d always figured Sharon was it for him. The only woman he’d ever love, ever want to spend forever with. That forever had been cut too fucking short, and for months he’d been pissed as hell, angry, resentful.

But eventually he figured out he had two choices. He could wallow in bitterness and die miserable and alone, cursing God for a cruel fate, or he could find a way to move on and seek some other happiness.

It was actually his foreman, Porter, who’d opened his eyes to his growing feelings for Macie. They’d been sitting at a barn dance, listening to Ty’s bluegrass band, and Hank had spent the entire night watching Macie dance with all the young bucks in the county. Apparently, his scowl had gotten darker with each passing song until Porter had told him to get his head out of his ass and ask Macie to dance.

He hadn’t bothered to respond or deny or pretend. Instead, he stood, crossed the room, took her hand to pull her up—even though she’d only just sat down—and tugged her out onto the floor. His cock had thickened the second he’d touched her and soaked up the sweet scent of apples in her hair. It had only been one dance, but it had proven to him that Macie was special.

Because for the first time since Sharon passed, he felt something he’d never expected to feel again. And it wasn’t the twinge in his pants. It was the twinge in his heart.

For the two months since, he’d sat at the end of that damn counter as she served drinks, combating his desire to drag her into the nearest storage closet and take her. Hard.

Tonight, he gave up the fight.

He took a couple steps away as her lust-filled gaze dulled a bit.

“Don’t stop,” she whispered.

“Take off your shirt, Macie. And your bra.”

She sucked in a breath, hesitance written in her posture. He was going to test her limits. He knew precious little about her past affairs. Once he had decided to pursue her, he’d started digging, searching for details about her and her love life. There seemed to be no shortage of men who’d taken Macie out for a date. However, there was a distinct scarcity of guys who’d gotten a second. And when it came to her sex life, she appeared to be extremely discerning about who she took to her bed.

“Coop—”

He moved quickly, caging her against the wall. “Hank.” He shouldn’t push for so much, so fast, but once he’d turned the corner, once he had put his mourning away and decided to reenter the world of the living, he refused to picture any future that she wasn’t a part of.

“Hank,” she repeated.

“You’re going to be naked for the rest of the night, Whiskey. And that’s going to start now.”

“Rest of the night?”

Hank wrapped his arms around her tightly. “You still stressing over that lack of shower and shaving thing?”

She nodded. “Among other things.”

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