Page 14 of Imagine Me and You

No, she was not.

She sat down on the couch and closed her eyes, waiting for Jace and imagining warm summer days spent on a grassy hill. Away from home. Away from the crazy for Jace. Away from the empty for her. And she thought of mayonnaise and cheese sandwiches. And how no matter what, Jace had been by her side. How he’d supported her through everything.

Nothing was worth risking that. Nothing at all.

Five

Jace blessedthe cold air as it washed over his body. But he cursed the fact that Sam was with him. Because she was negating the effect that the frigid surroundings otherwise would have had on him.

He’d been harder than hell and bound up in one big knot since last night.

He’d almost done it. He’d almost leaned in and kissed her sassy pink lips. And damned if he wouldn’t have regretted it. He regrettednotdoing it. And that was dumb as rocks.

But she’d gotten to talking about his testosterone. And then the pancake incident. The pancake incident that he should be irritated about. The pancake incident that made his blood run a little hotter and his pulse pound at an accelerated rate.

Because now, when he pictured the scene, batter all over his bare chest, he invited her to lick it off. A fair trade since she’d caused the incident. And then, when the altered memory went there, his chest wasn’t the only thing she licked.

And that was just sick. Who had those thoughts about their best friend? He felt like a complete bastard having fantasiesabout her lips on him, but dammit, he had them. Lots of them. Explicit, erotic fantasies.

He redirected his thoughts quickly—a necessity because his jeans were starting to get tight—and turned to face Samantha and her big black shadow.

“So,” she said. “What are we doing today?”

“We,” he said, “are going to move the cattle from one pasture to another. We have to keep the rotation going, especially through the winter so they have plenty of grass to eat.”

“We’re going to herd your cattle? That’s freaking awesome.” Her pale cheeks and nose were already stained cherry-red, her hair frizzing around her head thanks to the moisture in the air. She had on a berry-colored hat and gloves, which should have clashed with her coloring but somehow didn’t. She was so vibrant against the background of white snow and silver sky. The most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

And it wasn’t just his groin that tightened. It wasn’t just his stomach that felt strange. It was his heart.

Well, damn. That was inconvenient. Feeling these inappropriate Sam feeling were bad enough when they were below the waist. Bringing his heart into the equation made it all worse.

“Yep,” he said, his throat suddenly tightening up too. Oh good, his whole body was staging a rebellion.

“Get along, little doggy!” she said to Poppy, weaving back and forth in the snow, making uneven footprints. Poppy pranced behind her, lifting her feet higher, clearly excited by Samantha’s exuberance.

And he couldn’t blame her. Samantha had that way about her. She was infectious. She’d always made him smile, even when there’d been nothing in his life to smile about.

She still did that to him. She did everything to him.

Dammit.

“Calm down, cowgirl,” he said. “We’ve got to saddle up some horses.”

Five hours later, Samantha was muddy and exhausted, and so was Poppy. And Jace still wasn’t done working.

“We’re going to head back to the house,” she said.

“Right. I’ll be behind you in a bit.”

She nodded and strolled from the barn back to the two-story home. She’d spent the whole day in the cold with Jace and his hired hands. And they’d eaten cheese and mayonnaise sandwiches, and her cheeks hurt from smiling so much.

Her butt hurt too, from riding the horse for so long. And she was pretty sure she would be walking funny in the morning. She didn’t ride very often, and she’d never shadowed Jace on the ranch before.

It was incredible. To see what his hard work had earned him. To see how hard he worked every day. And it made him even sexier. To see him get dirty. Sweaty. To see him like she never normally saw him.

He really wasn’t joking. He didn’t mind getting dirty; he just cleaned up after.

He was like a walking fantasy. Tough and masculine, yet deeply involved with soap.

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