Page 52 of A Cowboy in the Streets

He glowered. “No.”

“Really?” I prodded. “Because you look like you have something on your mind.”

“Nothing worth saying. You can have all the condoms, sleep with all the cowboys you want. It’s not my business.”

My eyebrows shot to my hairline. “You think I’m a buckle bunny?”

“I don’t care if you are.”

He crossed his arms, chin jutting like a stubborn child. Why was that adorable? I wasn’t normally into man-children who hadn’t learned how to use their words.

“Okay,” I said slowly, “but if you did care and you told me why you cared, maybe I would say something you wanted to hear.”

I watched him process that, the look of doubtful hope in his bright blue eyes doing awful, achy things to my insides. Most of the time, this man had confidence to spare. But when it came to how much I truly wanted him, he couldn’t believe it.

He scrubbed a hand over his jaw, and his gaze darted away from me. “I hate the thought of you taking some random rodeo guy back to your hotel room. I hate the thought of you planning for it. I know it’s not my place to care. I have no claim on you. It sounds stupid to say all this out loud. But…I hate it.” He shook his head. “Sometimes I come to these events and I bring condoms. I figure maybe I’ll meet someone. Maybe something will happen. But I didn’t this time. You know why? Because I knew nothing could happen with you, and you were the only one I wanted.”

Normally possessive, jealous men were a huge turnoff for me, but hearing him tell me that made my stomach whoosh happily. He wanted me. Only me. Not for forever, I knew that, but I wasn’t asking for forever. Right now was enough, and right now he wanted me the way I wanted him.

“Well,” I said. “Good news. The condoms are Chloe’s. She slipped them into the pastry bag when we picked up your decaf. I had no intention of doing anything other than work this weekend because I didn’t think there was a chance in hell of doing you.”

He stared at me. “I didn’t order decaf.”

Whoops. I waved a hand dismissively. “My point is that you’re the only one—”

“Why would she give me decaf? She wouldn’t have unless—” His eyes narrowed as he worked it through. “You told her to. And then the Willie Nelson and the hoof oil and the windows—” He jabbed a finger in my direction. “You drugged me and made me take a nap!”

“You’re welcome.”

“Oh, you will pay for that, buttercup.”

He lunged for me, but I dodged, laughing. “Wait, wait! Let me explain—”

He lunged again, this time tackling me to the bed.

An hour later, we were down to one condom.

Chapter 21

Adam

We caught the sunrise at Garden of the Gods on our way out of Colorado Springs. Being a rancher meant bearing witness to countless sunrises and sunsets, and it had been a long time since I had paused to appreciate the moment.

But now, seeing the pastel glow of the clouds and rocks reflected on James’s skin, the sunrise felt new again. I paused. And I appreciated the hell out of it.

Good god, she was beautiful. Here, in the soft glow of the sunrise. In bed, fulfilling my fantasy with whispered words. On a horse, looking like she had been born in the saddle. There wasn’t a place on this earth that wouldn’t be improved by her presence.

Shit, I was turning into a sentimental fool. Dad would be so proud.

“Oh, my god,” James whispered, awed and reverent, for the hundredth time. “Oh, my god.”

I dropped a kiss on her upturned face. I couldn’t help it. She blinked, surprised, then took a swift, guilty look around, like she was expecting people we knew to pop out yelling, surprise!

“I’m not your boss here,” I reminded her. To prove my point, I kissed her again, longer this time and with a slide of my tongue against hers.

“I think we both know that logic only works as long as no one finds out,” she said when we pulled apart, her lips damp from my kiss.

“And what happens if someone finds out?” I asked. “You think anyone is really going to care?”She smacked my shoulder. “Of course people are going to care. It’s hard enough getting anyone to take a woman seriously in this business. Have you seen the statistics? Women and girls dominate the amateur fields in every horse sport. But when it comes to making horses our careers, we get pushed down and out. Even my own dad—” She broke off, shook her head, pressed her lips into a flat line.

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