Page 27 of The Texas Cowboy's Lady

“What happened to the neighborly thing and all that?” Sean was not at his best.

“I don’t have a tire iron that will fit that tire. That is one issue. The other is, had you checked out your spare situation before you took off in this particular vehicle, you would have seen the spare has had a hole punched into the side. Probably some ranch hand ran over a sharp rock and did the damage and either had no idea or was in too much of a rush to handle the problem. Either way, you won’t be changing this tire. We’ll send someone out to hook it up and get it back to the garage.”

“In the meantime, what do we do? I can’t miss my connecting flight.”

“So you’ve said. You’ll both get in the truck, and I’ll drop you at the landing strip.” He glanced at Laurel. “You’ll have to come along while I deliver this hay over to the west camp and unload it. Sorry if you were in a hurry too.”

“Well, let’s get a move on, then.” Sean grabbed his bags from the back, and Laurel stepped up and shut the tailgate after he had done so.

Just great. Stuck with Jaxson and no other option.Her steps were slower than Sean’s. At least, he held the door open for her while tapping his foot in agitation at her slower pace.

The seating arrangements weren’t the best. Since she was smaller than Sean, she ended up on the small console top perched between the two men in the front seat. There was no back seat in the older model truck used primarily for feed and other daily chores. Laurel was acutely aware of her left arm and shoulder being much too close to the foreman’s heated flesh. As they started off, she did her best to anchor herself with a precarious hold on the side of Sean’s seat and keep her feet and knees situated with enough space that Jaxson could reach between them to shift gears in the older standard engine. But it left Laurel acutely attuned to her vulnerability. The rutted road and Jaxson’s increased speed made matters worse.

Is he doing it on purpose, sensing her discomfort? Figures.

Had the day grown hotter? Laurel felt a river of sweat beginning to traverse down the center of her back. She didn’t remember there being so many corners on the dirt road that needed them to slow and then speed up and Jaxson having to move his hand to the lever of the gear shift more often than she would have liked. The heat of his skin seemed to seep through the cloth fabric of her jeans and his shoulder brushed along hers so that she felt the flex of his muscles from her shoulder downward. Her muscles were becoming tight as she tried to hold her body in check, but her brain was another matter. Another heat had begun to pool lower down in her midsection and beyond when Jaxson had stepped out of his truck to see what their problem was.

In the temperature of the afternoon, ninety-four and climbing, he was sans his usual work shirt in favor of the sleeveless navy tank now molded like a second skin to his body, and she jerked her gaze away from the hard muscles of his arms and flat stomach when he glanced over at her, catching her staring. There was a slight upturn of his mouth as he noted it.

“This is an antique,” Sean remarked. It was clear he was not amused with their mode of transport. But he should just be thankful they weren’t still stuck on the side of the road. Laurel had more reason to be displeased.

“Can’t you all afford better vehicles? I’ve seen plenty of newer trucks around the stables. The foreman should certainly have better than this.”

“It runs. It gets the minor jobs done we have need of it to do. We don’t toss away things just because they aren’t shiny and new. This is a tough old girl, and she’s got a lot more miles left in her.”

“Finally!” The airstrip came into view, and Sean had his door open just as Jaxson slid the truck into park.

“Aren’t you going to say goodbye properly to your fiancé?” Jaxson’s words crashed into thoughts that needed to be stopped. Laurel hastily slid off her perch, glad to be free of the close confines and the cowboy beside her. She followed Sean from the truck, walking beside his fast pace toward the steps of the plane where the pilot stood in the doorway, casting impatient glances at the watch on his wrist.

“That cowboy’s watching us. You’d think he’d have the decency to give us some privacy.”

“We write scenes like this all the time, Sean. Just think of—”

She didn’t get to finish. Sean swept her back with one arm, and she had only moments to grab his shoulders as he bent over her and laid a kiss that any romantic hero in a movie would be proud to have done. He made a swift whisper in her ear as he raised her back upright.

“Let him think on that one. Maybe I’ll dust off my shelf for that Oscar I’m bound to get one of these days.”

“Warn a girl next time and make it CeeCee. She’d appreciate it more.”

The horn blared. “I’ve got work to do. Save it for his welcome home.”

“Someone is a little grumpy.” Sean said it with a pleased smile. “Be back soon. You and CeeCee have work to do.”

“I know. Just get moving.” Laurel watched him until he disappeared inside the plane. Might as well make the parting scene a good one. Let Jaxson think she was pining away already.

The engine of the truck gunned into gear.Okay, maybe not.She turned and did take her time moving back to the truck and giving a final wave out the window as the plane pulled away.

“Why didn’t you go with him?”

Was that a double-edged question? Another of his jabs about her leaving? She gave him a slow smile. “And miss all the fun of the welcome home reunion?”

Laurel noted the tightening of the jaw muscle.Interesting.She found she took a great amount of pleasure in seeing the reaction.Could Jaxson be just a little envious? And what if he was?

Chapter Twelve

“I’ve got tohurry it up,” Jaxson’s words were beginning to be buffeted about just as they reached the camp and he had stepped from the truck. “That wind line has reached here, and the rain won’t be far behind it. We don’t need wet hay bales.”

Laurel slid out of the other side. The wind’s force made her grab for the side of the truck as she moved to the tailgate. Jaxson was already up in the truck’s bed, reaching for the first bale.

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