Page 39 of Cowboys Can't Kiss

I raise an eyebrow. “You’re planning an entire night away with someone and not a bathroom quickie? Impressive.”

“Meh. I’ll see what happens, but I could go for more than a BJ tonight.”

“Have fun with that.”

He laughs and waves and the three of them head off in Jamieson’s truck with Griff driving. Since our campground is a fair bit away from town, they all did rock, paper, scissors to see who would be the driver tonight, and Griff lost.

As far as I’m concerned, he won. The drinking and partying Jamieson and Hunter can get up to are not for me.

The campfire crackles and glows in front of me and Lady huffs in the background with Hunter’s horse. It’s a clear night with stars out and for the first time in what feels like forever, a wave of loneliness washes over me.

I’ve always been happy with my life. Yes, I’ve tried to date occasionally, and I’ve had a few fun flings. But those were fleeting and nothing of substance. Nothing that made me want to hang on to them forever, but they filled the gap at the time.

They weren’t Riley, though.

Just like rodeo, Riley has this way about him that makes me think I can have it all. Do it all. Sure, we’ve only just started to know each other better, but I know we could be so good together if he’d just give us a chance.

My phone pings and lights up with a message.

Riley:I was just sitting here with my pizza and thinking how nice it would be to have company. Are you free to talk?

If that’s not a sign he’s meant for me, I don’t know what is.

eleven

Riley

With my feet up on the table and the spinach and mushroom pizza next to me on the couch, the most natural thing in the world to me was to invite a friend over.

The problem with that is I didn’t have many.

Okay, I had none outside of clients and clients don’t count. Jackson is a friend, though. Of that I’m sure. He’s been very transparent that he’d like more, but even if the attraction wasn’t mutual, I’m positive he’d be a good friend to me.

Before I could overthink it, I texted him. There was a very high chance he would be off celebrating tonight. I may have googled the rodeo results already and saw he won another event. Even for a greenhorn like me, that’s a big deal. Racking up points for the season is critical.

But I sent a text, mildly hoping he’d pick up.

Jackson:You made pizza or bought it?

Wiping my hand on the napkin and setting my pizza slice down. I reply not with words but with a photo of the pizza and send it off.

Jackson:You’re killing me. I always miss Avocadabra food when we’re on the road. I can’t believe you sent me a food pic. Tease.

Laughing out loud in my empty condo, I chew and swallow as I send another reply.

Riley:I wasn’t aware you’d enjoy a food pic that much. Next time I’ll send something different.

When Jackson doesn’t reply right away, I start to panic and send another text.

Riley:That was very unprofessional of me. I’m sorry.

Jackson:You don’t need to be professional, Rye. We’re friends. Friends tease each other. This isn’t work.

Right, I can’t use that excuse with him. Good to know that he’s up for teasing, though. I’m not sure if I am or not. The heat burning low in my groin says I am, but I’m shutting that train down now before it jumps the track.

Riley:How come you’re not out celebrating?

Jackson:I’ll go out next time. I wasn’t feeling it tonight. How’s your week been? Make any more cakes yet?

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