Page 18 of Overdue for a Cowboy

“I’ll find a better one to change into now. One that snaps in the front.” She pressed her hand to her chest to hold the unhooked bra in place as she headed toward her bedroom. “Then I won’t have to bother you again.”

“It’s no bother.”

She must have caught the amusement in his voice because she turned around and flashed him an adorable grin—one that said she thought he was cute and possibly charming.

But the truth of it was, hewasbothered—hotand bothered.

And it wasn’t all amusement in his tone. There was a strong possibility he’d just been flirting with her. As much as he wastrying to stay in the friend zone, he couldn’t deny his attraction to her. And how could he not flirt a little when he’d just had his hand up her shirt and was unhooking her bra?

He picked up his bag of toiletries, and started down the hall to the guest bathroom, thinking that his shower might need to be a little colder than usual.

Ten minutes later, he walked back into the kitchen to find Maisie sitting on the sofa, a book open in her lap and a fresh fancy coffee in her hand. She’d changed into loose black cotton shorts, a soft pink sleeveless shirt, and a pair of fuzzy pink flip-flops.

The air smelled of rich freshly brewed coffee, and she motioned to a full cup sitting on the table in front of her. “I made more coffee, but yours isn’t quite as frou-frou this time.”

“Thanks.” He picked up his cup and took a sip before sinking into the sofa next to her. “Dang. That’s good.”

She smiled at the praise. “I told you. My vices are reading and coffee. And I excel at both.”

“So, what do you normally do on a Saturday?” he asked as he set his coffee down and held the sling out for Maisie to slide her bandaged hand into.

“Saturdays are super exciting around here. I usually make plans to clean my house all day or run errands then end up speed-cleaning everything in thirty minutes, forgetting the errands, and sitting on the sofa reading all day.”

“That sounds like a perfect day to me.”

“Really?” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you teasing me?”

“Heck no. I love to read. It seems like there’s always something I need to be doing at the ranch, so I usually only get to read at night.” He adjusted the strap on the sling, trying to ignore how close his fingers came to grazing her breast.

The image of her lacy push-up bra flashed through his brain. He pushed it away. What was wrong with him? He was literally fastening her injured arm into a sling—she was bruised and banged up—and all he could think about were her boobs.

He picked up his coffee and took another sip, trying to switch off his testosterone-fueled brain. “And it sounds like the perfect activity for someone who was just in a car accident and needs to rest.”

“I brought the Grisham book out for you,” she told him, gesturing to the book sitting on the table.

“Great. Thanks.” He reached for the book while sneaking a glance at her long, tanned legs. Her toenails were perfectly painted in a bright pink that reminded him of watermelon slices.

So much for switching off his brain.

He leaned back and opened the book but found himself unable to concentrate on anything other than the woman beside him.

Chapter Nine

Dodge huffed out a breath as he read the same page for a third time.

Normally, he could lose himself in a book, and hours would fly by. But this afternoon, his mind, and his gaze, kept drifting to the woman next to him. He tried to keep his focus on the book, but then she would shift or make a small sound, and he found himself sneaking glances at her face oraccidentallybrushing her leg as he reached for his coffee.

What was going on? This was Maisie. The girl he’d known since the tenth grade. The same one who used to wear her hair in braids and hid behind big glasses and the pages of a book as she sat by herself at lunch every day.

He had to admit though, he’d been noticing her more often the past few years. And in the past few weeks as they’d both helped out at Elizabeth’s farm, he’d become aware of other things about her, like how her eyes seemed to sparkle when she laughed and how smart and funny she was. And how amazing she smelled.

The scent of her surrounded him now, and he inhaled a deep breath as he tried again to focus on the sentence he was reading. Vanilla and something floral—that’s what she smelled like. He didn’t know if it was her lotion or her perfume or the smell of her laundry detergent—but it all combined to create the heady scent of her. And now all he could think about was grazing his lips along her neck as he breathed it in.

Stop dude. Stop thinking about her boobs and her legs and how good she smells.She was in a car accident, and he was supposed to be taking care of her.

He looked up from his book to catch her staring at him.

She looked quickly away. “How is it? The book, I mean.”

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