Page 3 of Her Filthy Cowboy

I glance over at her as we walk side by side toward the barn. “You don’t believe in love at first sight?”

She bites her plump bottom lip. “I don’t know. I guess I’ve just never experienced it myself.” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, her eyes meeting mine. “Have you?”

The truth is, I have. The moment I first laid eyes on Savannah back in high school, I was a goner. But there’s no way in hell I’m admitting that to her now.

I shrug, trying to play it cool. “I think when you know, you know.”

After we enter the cool shade of the barn, I lead her over to where my horse, Ranger, is waiting in his stall. I quickly saddle him up, then turn to Savannah.

“You can ride Buttercup.” I nod toward the pretty Palomino mare beside Ranger. “Need a hand getting up?”

She brushes me off. “I think I can manage.”

I watch as she puts her foot in the stirrup and swings her other leg over the saddle. The sight of her straddling the horse, her jeans stretching tight across her thighs, makes my blood run hot.

We ride out of the barn and into the pasture, the horses’ hooves thudding against the packed earth. As we ride past the paddocks, memories of our childhood flood back to me.

Savannah and I spent countless hours racing each other on horseback, daring the other to go faster, to take bigger jumps. She was fearless even back then.

I glance over at her now, admiring the confident set of her shoulders and the way she handles the reins with ease. “Remember how we used to race down by the creek?” I ask.

Savannah looks over at me and grins. “I remember that you could never beat me.”

I chuckle. “That’s because I was too busy admiring the view from behind.”

She rolls her eyes, but I catch the hint of a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “Flattery won’t get you anywhere, Clayton.”

“It’s not flattery if it’s true.”

Savannah blushes and changes the subject. “Tell me something about yourself that nobody else knows.”

“Starting with the hard-hitting questions, I see.”

She smirks. “You thought I was going to ask you whether you preferred blondes or brunettes?”

I bark out a laugh. “I like brunettes, for the record.” I let my eyes rake over her. “Especially ones who look sexy as hell on horseback.”

Savannah groans. “Brody, would you please be serious? This is an interview.”

“I am being serious! I also like long walks on the beach. Oh, and I give really good massages.”

Savannah snorts. “I find that hard to believe.”

I raise an eyebrow at her. “Why is that hard to believe?”

She gives me a smug look. “I don’t know. I guess you don’t exactly seem like the massage-giving type of guy.”

A stab of irritation lances through me at her tone. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Savannah shrugs, a hint of a smirk on her lips. “I just mean, with all those buckle bunnies throwing themselves at you, I doubt you have to work very hard to get a woman to...relax.”

I narrow my eyes at her. “You don’t know the first thing about me or how I treat women.”

“Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea.” She lifts her chin, meeting my gaze head-on. “The Brody Clayton I remember was only interested in one thing when it came to the opposite sex.”

With each word, I feel my temper rise along with my undeniable hunger for her. I want to kiss that smart mouth of hers. I want to show her that no other woman has ever set my blood on fire like she does.

“Is that really what you think?” My jaw clenches as I stare her down. “That I’m just some dumb cowboy looking for my next conquest?”

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