Page 4 of Big Filthy Cowboy

I snatch my hand back, trying to clear the mental image from my mind. I definitely don’t need to be wondering how his sweat would taste. This is Linda’s son. Linda who I like. Linda who treats me like a daughter. “There was clearly amisunderstanding. I thought you were a young boy which obviously you’re not. So why don’t you pick a donut on the house, and we’ll call it even?”

“There’s only one treat I’m craving. I won’t settle for less than your sweet cream, Sadie.” The way he says my name. I could dissolve into a puddle of happiness right here. He could scoop me up and carry me around in a bucket for the rest of time.

I need to get away from him, away from this ache he’s creating. “That’s not on the menu.”

He smirks. “Not yet. How about this? Instead of a donut on the house, let me take you on a date.”

My girl parts are completely on-board with spending more time with the hot cowboy, but the rational part of my brain knows that’s a terrible idea. “I don’t think so.”

He tucks a strand of hair that’s come loose from my hairnet back up. His fingertips brush the shell of my ear and send a shiver down my spine. “Why not? Afraid you might like being my good girl?”

“No!” I step back. I have to put some distance between us, or I’ll never be able to resist this man. “I have plans tonight. Very important stuff.”

He shrugs. “Change them.”

I do my best to scowl at him. He’s so overbearing. Are all the cowboys in Courage like this or did I just manage to find the one that was dropped on his head as a baby? “Stop bossing me around. I don’t like it.”

He chuckles. It’s a rich, dark sound that fills me with longing. I want that date with him. I want to listen to him tell me funny stories about his life and listen to that throaty, sinful laugh. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you that good girls are terrible liars?”

“I’m not.” As denials go, it’s a terrible one. But it’s hard to think clearly with Barrett staring at me like I just might be the center of his world.

He raises an eyebrow. “You’re not a good girl?”

Why does he keep saying good girl? Why do I keep wanting to be his good girl? Wrapping my arms around myself is a protective mechanism. It has nothing to do with the way my nipples are suddenly hard. Also, it’s drafty in here. “I’m not a terrible liar.”

“Well, I wouldn’t call you good at it.”

The bell on the door rings, and I recognize Bailey coming in for her afternoon sweet treat. She runs the barbershop here in town. The moment she knows anything, the whole town knows it. The last thing I need her thinking is that I’m crushing on one of the Maple brothers.

Pulling myself up to my full height, I point my finger at him. I try to summon all of the ire I feel toward him, which admittedly ire and arousal feel like the same thing today. “The great thing about owning my bakery is that I can throw out big, filthy cowboys like you.”

Bailey looks between the two of us, the flower tattoo above her chest heaving. “You OK here, Sadie?”

Barrett doesn’t even spare her a glance. “Seems like it’s time for me to head back to the farm.” He leans in close, whispering for my ears only, “Give me a call when you’re ready for thoseOs you’re craving. I’ll pick you up for our date and take care of your sweet little body.”

Before I can respond, he’s leaving the bakery, the bell tinkling softly behind him.

I paste on a smile for Bailey’s sake even though some part of me wants desperately to chase after Barrett and beg him to take me right here.

Bailey laughs, her big stomach jiggling, before she breaks into a smoker’s cough. “The men in this town are obsessive.”

I nod and step behind the counter to serve her. “You can say that again.”

Chapter 3

Sadie

“Come on, come on.” I stare at the tracker app, willing it to update again. Russell took the scenic route with his delivery tonight.

The sign in the window has already been flipped to closed, and I’m yawning. Making fresh donuts and pastries every morning for the hungry citizens of Courage means that my workday starts at three in the morning. Not that it matters. I don’t sleep much at night anyway.

Coco yips her displeasure. Like me, she wants to be upstairs with dinner already.

“Soon,” I promise both of us just as the truck finally rumbles into the alley behind my shop. I make sure that Coco is securely in her play area. I don’t want her running underfoot and getting hurt.

When I’m certain my fur baby is safe, I open the loading dock door, barely suppressing another yawn. It will take hours to unload and stock all of this inventory. I’ll be lucky to get more than an hour or two of sleep tonight. No doubt that was part of Russell’s intention by making this delivery so late.

As soon as he pulls the truck to a stop, he hops out and rounds it. He looks me up and down with his leering gaze. Myskin crawls, but just like I have a dozen times before, I refuse to let him get to me.

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