Page 5 of Her Steamy Cowboy

The way his eyes follow me across a room. How he finds excuses to stop by my office, leaning against my desk while we talk about everything and nothing. The electricity that crackles in the air whenever we’re alone together. Sometimes, I catch him watching me when I’m working, and for a moment, I let myself believe Rachel might be right.

But then I remember who I am, where I come from, and all the secrets I’m keeping.

“No, this isn’t about the other thing,” I lie. “And even if it were, Jace doesn’t have feelings for me. He could have literally any girl in town. Meanwhile, I’m just?—”

“Gorgeous,” Rachel cuts in. “You’re gorgeous. And you know it.”

She’s not wrong—I know how to dress for my curves, how to accentuate what I’ve got. But still. “Yeah, well, I’m sure he’ll still be the one turning heads on our little road trip tomorrow.”

“You’re going on a road trip?” Rachel asks, fishing the olive out of her martini.

“Yeah. Jace is supposed to be taking me to Antler Creek. I found this amazing collection of vintage ranch signs up from a retired rancher who lives up there.” I perk up despite myself. “You know how I’ve been trying to give the new welcome center more personality.”

Rachel giggles. “The one you said looks like a dentist’s waiting room?”

“Exactly. This guy has been collecting signs from the area’s old cattle auctions and ranch sales. We’re talking original hand-painted ones from the 1950s and 60s.” I sip my drink, remembering how excited I’d been when I first saw the photos. “Each one tells a piece of the region’s ranching history. I’ve been negotiating with him for weeks, and he finally agreed to sell them.”

“But now, after yesterday...” I trail off, tracing the rim of my glass. “Jace probably won’t even want to drive me anymore. He insisted on going with me when I first mentioned the trip. But now he’s being all weird about it.”

Rachel snorts. “Please. That man would drive you to Alaska if you asked him to pick up a paperclip.”

“He’s barely spoken to me since yesterday,” I protest, pulling out my phone to check it again. No messages. “And he hasn’t responded to my texts all day.”

“Because he thinks you’re going on a date with someone else!” She throws her hands up, nearly knocking over her martini. “Ugh, you two are exhausting. You know what normal people do when there’s a misunderstanding? They talk about it.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. I can’t exactly say, ‘Hey Jace, sorry I’ve been lying to you for the past ten years about my family.’”

“Actually, yes. That’s exactly what you could say.” Rachel crosses her arms. “Instead, you’re going to spend five hours tomorrow sitting in uncomfortable silence, pretending you don’thave feelings for each other, while you’re both too stubborn to actually communicate.”

Before I can reply, both our phones buzz simultaneously.

Jasmyn: Miss you girls! Give me all the updates tomorrow. Maisey insisted on “one more loop” around the rink approximately 47 times

Rachel looks up at me and smirks.

Rachel: Nothing to report. Just Lindsay continuing her decade-long denial of feelings for a certain cowboy

I roll my eyes.

Me: I hate you both

Jasmyn: Aww, don’t be like that, future sister-in-law!

Me: I’m blocking both of you

Jasmyn: Maisey says hi! And that Uncle Jace talks about you ALL the time

Me: BLOCKING. YOU.

I toss my phone back in my purse with an exaggerated groan.

“Alright, enough about my love life. How’s what’s-his-name? The guy from the dating app?”

Rachel’s shoulders slump. “Ghost town. We had two great dates, and then—poof.” She makes a little explosion gesture with her hands. “I should be used to it by now, but apparentlyshowing up to dinner in a dress with tiny Shakespeare quotes printed all over it is still too much for some people.”

“His loss.” I reach across the table and squeeze her hand, grateful for the millionth time for this friendship. “You just need to find someone who appreciates your particular brand of... enthusiasm.”

Rachel arches an eyebrow. “My particular brand of what now?”

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