Page 3 of Her Protective Cowboy

Something flares in my chest as I continue to stare at her. Her curves fill out that white dress in all the right places. Fulllips, slightly parted. Long dark hair, messy but sexy as hell. My eyes trail down her body and back up again.

She looks young, maybe twenty-two at the most. Way too young for a thirty-eight year old guy like me. Not to mention she's someone else's bride. But despite all that, only one word keeps pounding in my head.

Mine.

I try to snap myself out of it. She's probably just another one of Brody's groupies, here to throw herself at him. And she certainly wouldn’t be the first pretty girl to show up unannounced. I push down the irrational surge of jealousy at the thought.

"Sorry, sweetheart," I call out. "If you're looking for Brody, you just missed him."

The woman frowns. “Who?”

“Brody.”

“Who’s Brody?”

I pause, reassessing the situation. “Are you here for the pop-up shop?”

She shakes her head. “No, I ran out of cab fare. I was hoping I could charge my phone for a few minutes.” Her voice trails off when she peers over my shoulder at the darkened gift shop windows. Then her face falls. “Never mind, I guess I’ll just...”

She turns on her heel to leave and stumbles over the hem of her dress.

On instinct, I reach out. My hand closes around her arm, steadying her. “Easy there, sweetheart.”

She grips my bicep tightly. “Sorry, it’s been a long day.”

Her red-rimmed eyes lift to meet mine. And that’s when I realize that she's been crying. A surge of protectiveness catches me off guard. I don’t even know this woman. But for some reason, I want to know what happened. Who hurt her. I want to shield her from the world.

I nod toward the gift shop. “Tell you what. I have a few more things to do before I lock up. Why don’t you come inside and charge your phone for a few minutes?”

Relief floods her expression. “Really? That would be great. Thank you so much, Mr...?”

“Clayton.” I hold out my hand. “Wyatt Clayton.”

“Melody.” She gives me a shy smile and places her small hand in my much larger one. “Melody Sinclair.”

“That’s a pretty name. You from around here, Melody?”

I already know she isn’t, but I’m suddenly desperate to learn everything I can about this woman.

“Um, not exactly.” She hesitates for a second and bites her plump bottom lip. “I’m from New York.”

“Ah, so you’re a city girl.”

She giggles. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

I can’t help but grin. “Well, welcome to Wyoming, city girl.”

For a split second, my eyes drop to her mouth. And when I look back up, her cheeks are flushed.

Fuck.

That electric feeling in my chest is back. Only this time, it’s stronger.

I know I shouldn’t be flirting with her like this. But I can’t fucking help it. I’ve heard stories about how people in this town have been falling in love at first sight ever since the Walker brothers built their resort on the mountain a few years ago. I used to think it was all bullshit.

But as I gaze at Melody, now I’m not so sure.

We head into the gift shop, and I toss the keys to my truck onto the counter before ducking behind the cash register to fish out a spare charger. Melody waits patiently on the other side near one of the glass display cases.

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