Page 45 of A Cowboy in the Streets

I side-eyed her, confused. “Brax? No, he’s back in Aspen Springs. You know him?”

“Well, sure. We went to high school together. I’ve avoided him ever since. The man has a stick shoved up his ass. And not the fun kind.”

I snorted. “He’s not so bad.”

“Trust me, he is.” Essie gave a little smirk and tossed her bright blue hair over her shoulder. “Zack, on the other hand, seems like he could be fun. For a night, anyway. Although, I wouldn’t say no to Adam, either.”

Every cell in my body stiffened.

Essie burst into laughter. “Relax, James. I would absolutely say no to Adam, not that he’d ever put the offer on the table. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. Anyway, hos before beaus and all that.”

“Adam is my boss. Nothing is going on.”

Essie gave me a look of patent disbelief.

“There’s not!” I said defensively.

“Okay, look. If we’re going to be friends, then you can’t lie to me. I hate that. No obfuscating the truth, either. Maybe nothing is technically happening”—she did air quotes around the word and rolled her eyes dramatically—“but that doesn’t mean there aren’t real feelings involved. Tell me the truth. You’d honestly be okay if I took Adam back to my hotel room?”

I glanced at Adam and my stomach twisted at the thought of him with Essie. Which was stupid. I had no right to lay claim to him when I knew I couldn’t do anything about it. And Essie…well, it wouldn’t hurt her career at all. It wasn’t fair. But she had asked for my honesty, and I gave it to her. “No.”

“Then don’t pretend otherwise. What if I had believed you and banged his brains out? How would we be friends after that?” She shook her head, blue hair gleaming in the sunlight. “Just be honest. It’s the only way to live.”

“Okay,” I said softly. Then, “Please don’t bang my boss.”

She grinned. “I won’t. Definitely going to bang his brother, though.”

“Go for it.”

And then Adam and Zack entered the ring. I sat up straighter, moving to the edge of my seat. Adam didn’t look nervous now. He looked focused. A competitor who was there to win.

Each cow in the small herd had a number. The judges called out the numbers, telling Adam and Zack which ones to separate from the herd. The buzzer went off, the clock ticked down, and the team surged to action.

It was incredible watching them work. Dimly, I knew Zack was doing…something…but I couldn’t peel my eyes from Adam. He was just so competent. Entirely confident in every move he made, every decision.

I couldn’t help but wonder if he would bring that same confidence to bed. Tell me what he wanted. Demand I take the same from him. I squeezed my thighs together, gripped the edge of my seat so tightly my knuckles whitened, and hoped Essie didn’t notice. I was here for work. Not to ogle.

His plaid shirt was rolled up to his forearms, revealing flexing muscles and tendons as Adam gives his horse commands. Goddamn, I was such a slut for forearms. Pure cowboy porn, that’s what this was. And I, for one, was soaking my panties in a very unprofessional way.

Adam tossed his lasso, and I held my breath. When it caught the calf around the neck, I clapped my hands. Adam dismounted, Zack bound his feet, and just like that, it was over. The buzzer sounded, calling time, and Essie and I leaped from our seats, whooping and hollering and stamping our feet.

“Adam!” I yelled. “Adam!”

Essie put two fingers to her mouth and let out a piercing whistle. Adam looked our way and lifted his hat high into the air before they both disappeared to the staging area.

For a moment, I just stood there, hands still clasped together from clapping, beaming stupidly at the arena. That had been amazing.

Essie gave me a little nudge. “We should go down there. Congratulate them. That was a winning score.”

“Sure,” I said, but I didn’t move, even as she gave me a quizzical look.

Because the truth was, I still felt…heated. And the way I wanted to congratulate him wasn’t professional. At all.

I counted to ten. Then I counted to twenty. It didn’t fully cure me, but it was enough to stop me from humping Adam’s leg. Hopefully.

“Okay,” I said. “Let’s go.”

Fake it ‘til you make it.

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