Page 12 of Some Cowboys Brave the Flames

More of that awkward silence—but he found he far preferred it to the interrogation. Why was she so interested in his dating life anyway? He shook off his concern, then glanced at her outof the corner of his eye. “You’re not at the auction.” It wasn’t a question.

She sighed. “I didn’t want to go. I’d much rather ride than go to some stuffy auction.”

He chuckled. “I could see that. The view is something else.”

Charlie lifted a brow, then snickered. “Did you even spend that much time out here?”

Ash didn’t let his eyes leave hers, his expression dead serious. “I wasn’t talking about the landscape.”

Her face flushed deeply, and her eyes darted away.

What was wrong with him! Why couldn’t he keep those particular thoughts locked inside his head when he needed to? He wasn’t a flirt by nature. At least he hadn’t been one when he was a teenager.

And definitely not after he’d kissed her. He’d called it karma—to be so consumed by another girl back home who was untouchable.

Thankfully, Charlie’s blush was the only thing that indicated she had heard his comment for what it had been. She didn’t look at him for the remainder of the ride. When they returned home, she insisted that he head out. She was going to take care of the horses herself, and he didn’t need to stick around for that part.

Ash strolled away from Charlie, out of the barn, and toward his truck. He was torn between liking the way he’d made her blush and being terrified that she would kick him to the curb. There was the very real possibility that she thought he wasn’t being faithful to his pretend girlfriend. Then again, his statement could have been rationalized as being harmless.

A compliment was a compliment, right?

He’d have to be more careful from this point forward.

No goo-goo eyes.

No obvious smiles.

And no flirting.

That last one seemed all but impossible. Hopefully he’d be able to figure it out and keep it hidden in the dark recesses of his mind.

But only if he was lucky.

6

Charlie

Agentle breeze rustled the leaves in the trees overhead. Occasionally it tugged at the pages of Charlie’s book, ruffling them before she placed her hand on the edge to hold them still. The words blurred as her thoughts shifted to Ash for the millionth time.

How many times had she read this page? This paragraph? Charlie closed her eyes tight, letting out a frustrated breath as she snapped the book shut. The sound was loud in the quiet space that surrounded her.

She’d chosen a park bench that was on the far reaches of the park. Several yards away, children played on the equipment, watched over by their parents. Far off to her left, there was a track and a handful of tennis courts. The sounds of everyone who had visited the park that afternoon were muffled like she heard them through a tunnel.

Charlie kept her eyes shut as she considered how she was going to survive spending time with the one man she couldn’t getout of her head since that fateful day six years ago. The kiss had been both inappropriate and innocent at the same time. She’d never felt taken advantage of by him—especially because of how he avoided her like the plague since then.

A soft groan beside her had Charlie throwing her eyes wide to glance over at a sudden intrusion as someone sat next to her. She clutched the book in her lap, ready to take off at a moment’s notice. The young man looked to be about her age. He quirked a smile at her. Clad in a T-shirt and a pair of athletic pants, he leaned back and rested his arm across the back of the bench.

His eyes dipped to the book in her hand. “Is it any good?”

She followed his gaze and then let out an embarrassed laugh. “I’m not sure.”

He gave her an amused grin. “How’s that?”

Charlie lifted the book briefly. “I’m a little distracted right now. Can’t get into it.”

The man scooted closer to her, but since she was on the edge of the bench, she had nowhere to move away unless she got to her feet. Her pulse quickened as she kept her eyes on him. “I like to read, too,” he said, his voice coming across way too sultry for the words.

The small smile she offered him was strained. “What do you like to read?”

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