Page 7 of Rugged

“Is something burning?” His voice was a deep velvet rumble. He lifted his nose to scent the air.

“My cookies!” I gasped, finally realizing what had happened. I’d been playing Ms. Domestic in the gorgeous ranch kitchen and decided to bake this afternoon. I’d been about to pull them out of the oven when Hot Cowboy–HC for short–rang the doorbell.

I spun around, leaving HC in the open doorway.

Great. If I burned the place down, I’d lose my chance at keeping my sister’s job and meeting hot cowboys. Then what?

I dashed into the kitchen, only to realize that HC was right on my heels.

Well, that was sweet. He was the protector type. There weren’t many of those in L.A.

I threw open the oven door and grabbed the hot mitts. Smoke billowed out into my face, and I had to turn away and cough, eyes watering.

“I got it,” he shouted over the alarm. Before I could recover, HC took one of the hot mitts from my hand and pulled the cookies out. “I’ll take this outside.” He disappeared, jogging with the cookie sheet toward the French doors that led to a huge stone terrace and in-ground pool at the back of the house.

Swoon.

It wasn’t like he’d carried me from a burning building, but damn–I might be crazy enough to set fire to this whole place just to have that happen.

I ran for the second set of French doors–because one wasn’t enough–to throw them wide and let more air in.

The smoke alarm continued to screech. I found the switch for the vent over the stove and turned the fan on. HC reappeared and turned off the oven and shut the door.

“How do you turn off the alarm?” he shouted, looking up at the ceiling. “This kind of place has a hardwired system. You probably only have a few minutes before emergency services are notified.”

Oh shit. “Um, right! Uh…”

I knew where the panel for the security system was. Would it be in the same place? I ran for it near the front door, and HC followed. I punched in the code Lyssa had given me and waited for the alarm to turn off.

No dice.

“Here–” HC’s voice was a deep rumble. He was close enough behind me that I could feel the warmth of his breath against my ear. Did he have to stand that near to me to help?

Probably not.

Was I at all upset that he had?

Nope, not even a smidge.

He set one hand on my hip and the other reached past me and pushed a couple of buttons. The alarm stopped. My ears still rang with the echoes of it.

I sighed. I used complex computers and advanced programs for all the visual effect work I did, but I couldn’t figure out an alarm set-up. “Thank you.”

HC hadn’t moved–he was still right behind me, his hand now resting on the wall beside the security panel, his body leaning into mine. And that hand on my waist. Big. Gentle. Warm.

I didn’t want to move. Didn’t want him to step back either, but we couldn’t stare at the panel all day. Slowly, I turned to face him.

He didn’t pull back. In fact, he leaned down.

Our lips were now separated by inches, and he was studying mine, like he was thinking about kissing me.

Yes, please.

Kiss me, cowboy.

Or should I kiss him? Just a peck? Like, a thank you kiss? That was what Lyssa would do if a hot cowboy rescued her from a burning cookie incident.

“I, uh, didn’t get your name,” I whispered.

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