Page 27 of Cowboy and the Convict

Devon disappeared into a side room and came out hauling a saddle and a mat looking thing printed in a southwest design. "Want me to show you how to do this?"

"Now you want me to clean your house and saddle your horses?" She tried not to smile, but failed. "You're turning out to be pretty fucking needy."

"I wouldn't be so needy if you weren't so capable." Devon tipped his head toward the mare. “Come closer. She’s not gonna bite.” He grinned. “I promise I won’t either.”

Janie swallowed hard. It wasn’t so much Winnifred she was worried about. It was the man wearing decidedly not dad jeans and a deep green, long-sleeved shirt that hugged him in all the right places. The man who parked in the driveway and didn’t bat an eye at shelling out thousands of dollars to make her problem go away.

The man who also called her capable.

Devon might not bite her, but that didn’t mean she would come out unscathed if she let herself get too close.

Pressing her lips together, she took a few tentative steps his way, trying to ignore how good he smelled as he first layered on what turned out to be called a saddle pad. Then he lifted the saddle onto Winnifred's back and went to work tightening it in place, explaining every step as he did it. Once that was finished, he repeated the process with the bridle and reins, the smooth, deep timbre of his voice in her ear almost as distracting as his closeness, his body brushing hers with every movement.

"She's all ready for you." Devon stepped back, finally giving her a little space. "You want to try to get up?"

She'd been so focused on his directions—and his proximity—that she almost forgot what was coming next. Her stomach tightened a little as she faced down the prospect of getting her whole self up and over the back of this gigantic animal. "Sure." She didn't want him to think she was nervous, and it was an action she'd seen done countless times in her life. It couldn't be that hard, right?"

Lifting her left foot, she hooked it into the stirrup, bracing as she grabbed the horn thing on the saddle. Gripping tight, she held her breath and shifted her weight, swinging her right leg up and over.

Well, almost over.

Winnifred was fucking tall as shit, and her estimations were just a bit off. Instead of making it onto the horse’s back, she ended up clinging to her side, heel barely hooked over her rump, flailing around as she attempted to get a little more purchase.

And Devon—asshole that he was—fucking laughed. Hard.

The prick was still laughing when he planted both hands on her ass and pushed, giving her the extra oomph she needed to get where she wanted to go.

Once her butt was planted in the seat, she shot him a glare. "I was serious about that flat iron threat.”

Devon held up both hands in surrender, but kept laughing, like a man with zero respect for his own well-being. “I’m sorry. You just should have seen the way you looked hanging off the side of her.” He bent at the waist, hands on his knees as he started to laugh harder. “Like a fucking spider monkey.”

It took everything she had to keep frowning at him. “You’re just lucky I’m all the way up here and you’re all the way down there.” Winnifred shifted on her feet and Janie yelped, gripping the reins tight. “Now you’re making Winnie mad too.” She managed a glare. “One of us is going to kick you soon, and it’s not the horse.”

Sucking in a shaky breath, Devon straightened. “Not a surprise.” He stroked one big hand down the horse’s neck. “Winnie’s a sweetheart. She’d never get mad at me.”

It was impossible not to connect the comment back to his wife. The woman was probably a freaking saint who never lost her temper and farted sunshine and rainbows. No doubt the exact opposite of the one currently situated on her horse’s back.

And that sent an ugly stab of jealousy slicing through her insides. It might not be so bad if that jealousy was only brought on by knowing his wife had a family and a house and a horse—all measures of success she’d never attained—but a big part of the envy trying to ruin her mood had to do with the man mounting the horse next to her.

Devon was an ass—she still firmly believed that—but he was lots of other things too. Things she could become partial to if she let herself. And that would be a terrible idea, because she’d learned the hard way she was not cut out for relationships. Definitely not with a single dad who carried almost as much baggage as she did.

Urging Winston with a gentle nudge of his heels, the man she would not be jealous over shot her a grin, wiggling his brows as he passed. “Hold on tight.”

The warning barely registered before Winnifred started to move, her steps heavy as she hurried to keep up with Winston. Each one slapped her ass against the leather, rattling what was left of her brain cells around her head.

They could use it. Dumb things were trying to notice how good Devon looked in those dad jeans his daughter hated so much.

Luckily, once Winnifred caught up to Winston, the mare slowed down and settled into an easy pace as they followed the path of a worn trail through the trees surrounding the pasture attached to the barn. She hadn't initially realized Devon's property was so big, but as they wove their way along the trail, she was starting to wonder just how much of this he owned. "Are we still on your land?"

"Not anymore." Devon took a deep breath of the cool fall air, blowing it out as his shoulders relaxed. "This belongs to my neighbors, but they're nice enough to let me use it whenever I want." His eyes roamed the changing colors around them. "I really wish I had time to do it more often. The horses love being out here."

Janie relaxed a little herself as she acclimated to Winnifred movements. "It looks like you enjoy being out here too."

Devon took another deep breath, his eyes lifting to the trees overhead. "I do." A flicker of something she couldn't identify flashed across his features. "Not as much as my wife did, but enough that I wish I could do it more often."

The reminder of his lovely, perfect wife—and realizing Devon was likely thinking of her at this moment—dampened her spirits yet again, and Janie fell silent, doing her best to simply enjoy the ride. It wasn't difficult to do. Between the scenery and the steady pace Winnifred and Winston kept, the experience was soothing and almost hypnotic.

By the time Devon slowed, her lids were heavy and all her muscles were feeling a little like Jell-O. He dismounted, reaching one hand up for her. "Come on. I want to show you something."

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