Page 6 of The Roper & the Author

“It will help me if I’m up and serving,” she insisted. “If I sit, I’ll stew too much about Abuelita.”

“Okay, dear.” Mama pursed her lips. “You come help Walker make a fruit platter, then.”

Walker smiled even as Easton protested, “Mama, you know I am the expert at fruit platters.”

“Oh, hush you. You go on and take out the garbages like you were supposed to earlier.Allof them, and get them to the dumpster, you hear? Tomorrow’s trash day.”

Easton groaned, but apparently Mama had trained these boys up right. He hurried to pull out the kitchen garbage and re-line it.

Marci eased over to Walker’s side and surveyed the pile of fresh fruit, her pulse racing from being near him. He offered her a cutting board and a paring knife. She smiled and tried to focus. No mangoes, papayas, or guavas in sight.

“You might need to explain what some of these fruits are,” she teased. “I don’t see any dragon fruit.”

“I wouldn’t know a dragon fruit if it fell off the tree and hit me in the head.” He grinned. “You okay to start with the apples?”

“Sure thing.” She washed and cut up apples, stacking them on a large platter. Their shoulders brushed as they worked side by side and Mama bustled around the kitchen doing everything else for dinner.

She had a million questions she wanted to ask him, but she wasn’t certain where to start. She wanted to know his world, see his world, be part of his world. What did cowboys do with their days? Ride around the scenic mountains on their noble steeds protecting fish out of the water writers from Florida?

“I was sorry to hear about your grandmother,” he said quietly as he cut grapes into clumps with kitchen shears.

“Thank you. I know if anybody can get her back safe it’ll be Aiden.”

“For sure. He’s incredible.”

“Does he bring protection details to your ranch often?”

“Recently he has.”

She tried to cut a peach in half but hit the seed. Walker smiled and showed her how to easily remove it.

“So you help endangered ladies often?” she asked.

“Yes, but never one as beautiful as you.” He gave her a slow smile that made her stomach flip over.

“Ay, mi corazon no puede,” she whispered. “I think I’m going to pass out.”

Walker released the grapes and the shears and wrapped his arm around her waist. “Do you need to sit down?”

She blinked up at him. All her dreams had just been accomplished. The most handsome cowboy in existence had his arm around her and he smelled like a musky cologne, leather, and even a trace of horse. She catalogued his muscular arm, his scent, those luscious blue eyes, the way his large frame overshadowed and surrounded her. She was average size for a woman, but Walker was a giant among men, in every aspect.

Of course she would write it all down, but right now all she wanted to do was savor this moment. She’d never felt anything so incredible.

“Sit down?” she repeated.

“You said you were going to pass out,” he reminded her.

“Is she all right?” Mama interrupted her frenzied preparations to check on her.

“I’m sorry,” Marci hated to admit. “I said I was going to pass out because Walker complimented me and gave me that sweet, sexy cowboy smile and then he held me close and I’m in even more danger of losing my mind.”

“Well, I never,” Mama huffed, but she was smiling. “Help her over to the table, love.”

Walker did as instructed. He kept his muscular arm around her, held her pressed against his firm side, and escorted her to the table as if she were royalty. She wrote about heroic hunks like him, but she’d never met one in person. It surprised her that she was enthralled with him but not tongue tied or embarrassed. Even though she wasn’t proficient at real human interaction and especially with superhuman hunky males, Walker made her feel confident, alluring, and more than enough.

He pulled out a chair and helped her into it, then placed one hand on the back of the chair and one on the table and leaned down closer to her. “Would some ice water help?”

A kiss would help, but she needed to slow down and not say everything she thought. Her heroines had to play a little hard to get. Unfortunately, she had no practice at that.

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