Page 14 of The Wrangler Takes a Wife

“You’re an ass.” Amara snorted. It wasn’t cute or delicate. No, it was loud, and had it been anyone else, it might have been annoying. From her? It made him smile.

“Speaking of asses. You ready to talk about what happened earlier?”

Chase expected her to say something snarky. Instead, she laughed. He liked the sound.

“Nice, easy segue. I’ll start. You’re a good kisser.”

Hearing her say it made him smile with pride. “I know that Sweet Darling.” She snorted again, but he couldn’t examine her expression because he had his eyes on the road. “So, why did you get so weirded out earlier?”

“Because my brother interrupted us. Roddick rings the bell, but he eventually gets impatient and will just come in. The thought of him catching us like in the act… they are protective, even though I can take care of myself.”

“I get it.” Chase really did. Her brothers adored her. “Here is the thing. I want us on the same page.”

“I’m listening.” Out of his peripheral, he saw her fidgeting in her seat.

“For the duration of our agreement, we both need to be exclusive. It means?—”

“I know what exclusivity means, Wrangler. It wasn’t something you had to clarify. I already figured you wouldn’t want your wife stepping out, and it becoming common knowledge.”

Amara was damn right on that score. Her admission got him to thinking. She seemed surprised when he suggested they kiss. “Then how were you planning to have your needs met?” he asked her.

“I know how to take care of myself.” The woman was so full of sass. He shouldn’t find it so attractive.

Chase was sure her answer was meant to make him feel uncomfortable. It had a different effect. X-rated thoughts about Amara taking care of herself invaded his mind. He imagined her in the shower, her hands exploring her wet curves, her pleasure intensifying as the water ran down her skin. He could feel himself getting aroused, and he knew he had to get a grip before it was too late. Instead of the embarrassment Amara had intended, her comment produced a flood of lust. The only gentleman-like thing to do was offer assistance. “Now you don’t have to rely on self-care. You have me, and I’m more than happy to help.”

“Really? You’re so generous,” Amara drawled. “I’m ready to change the topic.”

“I don’t mind changing the topic, however acknowledging our chemistry will go a long way to making our arrangement more enjoyable.”

“Sure. Now shush. Put on the radio or something.”

Chase put on the radio but grumbled when the only choice was country music. They had three stations. Two clearly correctly labelled themselves country stations, but even the third mostly only played country music.

“Explain to me how a cowboy doesn’t like country music?”

Chase chuckled. “Are you saying what I do for a living should dictate what music I listen to?”

“No, I think good taste should.”

The rest of the way into Willowridge. They had a rousing conversation about their music taste. Chase explained to her that actual music included guitars, drums, and amazing lyrics. Like classic rock.

“Is it because you’re old?” Amara giggled.

Chase didn’t consider himself old. Not when he took such good care of his body. He knew that he obviously had a few years on her. By his math, it was close to fifteen years… but they were adults. It never occurred to him it might be an issue for Amara, and she might think he was too old for her. Especially not with their chemistry. “What? You think I’m old?”

“No, I was just messing with you. You’re only eight years older than I am.”

“How old are you? And how old do you think I am?” As they neared Willowridge, Chase slowed down, interested in her response.

“I’m thirty-eight, and Rodney said you were the same age, so that would make you forty-six.”

“You don’t look your age.”

“Thank-you. It’s the genes.”

Chase parked in front of the Law Office of J. Welch. The moment the truck was put into park Amara, reached for the handle.

“Don’t touch it!” He growled at her.

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