Page 2 of Her Steamy Cowboy

Hard.

Me first, my shoulder blades slamming against worn floorboards, then her on top of me, every delicious inch of her pressed against my chest.

“Lindsay?” My voice comes out rough as my hands move over her frantically, checking for injuries. “Baby, are you hurt?”

“I’m fine.” Her breath is warm against my neck. Then she groans. “Ugh. I’m so sorry, Jace. Ishould have listened to you. You were right about that stupidladder.”

But Idon’t give a shit about who’s right and who’swrong. All I care about is making sure she’s okay.

“Hey.” I brush a strand of hair from her face, needing to make sure she’s really fine. “Look at me.”

Lindsay looks up, and suddenly I can’t breathe.

Her dark eyes are wide, and hercheeks are flushed pink and there’s tinsel caught in her hair. Without thinking, I reach out andgraze her cheekbone with my thumb.

We’re too close. Way too close.

I can see the tiny flecks of gold in her eyes, count each of her eyelashes, feel every soft curve of her pressed against me. Her lips part slightly, and my gaze drops to her mouth.Then the world narrows to just this – her weight on my chest, her hands gripping my shoulders, the way she’s looking at me like maybe, just maybe...

“Well, well...” an amused voice shatters the moment. “What do we have here?”

I look up to see my brother Luke standing in the doorway. His new wife, Jasmyn– who officially became Mrs. Clayton just three days ago in a surprise ceremony – stands beside him in her teaching clothes, dark curls escaping her ballet bun.

“Daddy,” My five-year-old niece, Maisey, peeks out from around Luke’s legs. “Why are Uncle Jace and Aunt Lindsay on the floor?”

Lindsay scrambles to her feet, cheeks flushing pink as she brushes tinsel from her sweater. “We were just, um, taking down decorations.”

Luke smirks. “Is that what they’re calling it these days?”

I resist the urge to throw a nearby ornament at his head.

“What brings you two by the shop?” I ask instead, pushing myself up and trying not to wince at the ache in my shoulder blades.

“Just picking up some things before heading into town,” Jasmyn says as she walks behind the checkout counter. “Those ornaments for the studio still here?”

“Yep. Blue box behind the register,” Lindsay says, still fussing with her sweater like she needs something to do with her hands. “Already wrapped them for you.”

“Can I stay and help Aunt Lindsay clean up?” Maisey asks, bouncing between her parents. “Please, please?”

“Not today, sweetheart,” Luke says, resting a hand on his daughter’s shoulder. “But you’ll see Aunt Lindsay at the New Year’s party, right?”

I watch as Lindsay and Jasmyn exchange a quick look that makes my stomach tighten.

I’ve seen that look a hundred times over the years – the silent communication that comes from being best friends since their freshman year of college.The fact that they’re doing it now, that quick wordless exchange that usually means they’re keeping secrets, sets off warning bells in my head.

“Actually...” Lindsay says, fidgeting with a loose thread on her sleeve. “I won’t be at the party. But we’ll do something soon, okay Maisey?”

Another loaded look passes between the women before Jasmyn clears her throat. “We should get going.”

Something’s off.

In the ten years I’ve known Lindsay, she’s never missed a ranch event. And Jasmyn’s acting like she’s seen a ghost. The knot in my stomach tightens as I try to make sense of their strange behavior.

Luke walks to the door. “You kids behave yourselves,” he says with a wink. “And try not to break anything else while you’re...decorating.”

I discretely flip Luke the bird as Jasmyn and Maisey turn their backs and walk out of the shop.

Once they’re gone, an awkward silence fills the space between Lindsay and me. She busies herself with picking up scattered ornaments while I right the fallen ladder.

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