Page 44 of The Cowboy's Surprise Return

Maybe she’d realized there was nothing to be gained by faking it as his girlfriend.

Then again, she was a fun gal, a flirt, and didn’t seem to mind kissing him. And Sweetheart Creek could be a tad boring.

However, he’d flown home after their work, grabbed a fast shower, shaved, and upended his clean-laundry pile looking for his nicest pair of Levi’s and cleanest shirt. He’d dug through the box of belongings he’d left behind on the ranch to find his most-prized belt buckle, which hadn’t ended up in his bag when he’d left town. He’d even begged his mom to show him the iron, so he could run some heat over the shirt. Then he’d taken a hat brush to his best Stetson, removing dusty fingerprints from its brim, and swiftly oiled his newest boots.

He looked good. Real good.

And Jackie hadn’t even seemed to notice.

He paced her living room again, stopping at the kitchen counter to help himself to a glass of water. There was a note by the sink, and his eyes caught a few words before he minded his own business.

Memory care facility.

Knowing he shouldn’t, he drew the scrap of paper closer, reading the careful, flowing handwriting. He sucked in a breath when he saw the dollar amount at the bottom of the note.

Had Jackie come home and dealt with figuring out care for her ailing father instead of getting ready for their fake date? She hadn’t mentioned Gerry Lee once during their day together, but Brant had said in passing that her father wasn’t well.

Cole downed the last of the water, mulling over how he might help Jackie.

She came hustling out of her bedroom, breathlessly saying, “Ready.”

She froze when she saw his expression. “What?”

He couldn’t seem to make his jaw do anything but hang there. She was gorgeous. Seriously gorgeous. Levi’s former-fashion-model girlfriend had nothing on Jackie. Nothing. Unable to stop gaping at her, he didn’t even try. Those wonderful legs, the flare of her hips, the nip and tuck of her dress at her waist, the hint of cleavage at the softly revealing neckline. Irresistible.

“What?” she demanded.

He blinked, rousing himself. “Did you paint your nails?”

She held them out for inspection, then gave them a shake and blew on them. “They’re still a bit damp. Do you mind driving? I don’t want to ruin them.”

“Sure.” He took her in again. Her shoulder-length hair was done up off her neck, her makeup subtle, highlighting her cheekbones and her sparkly, mischievous eyes.

She was hot. Seriously hot.

“How did you do all of this in…” He checked his watch. “…eleven minutes?”

“If I knew you were timing me, I would’ve done it in ten.” She glided past him to the door, leaving a fruit-scented trail.

“What do you smell like? Raspberries? No… strawberries?”

“It’s my lip balm.”

“I can’t wait to taste that.”

“We’re late. And it’s cherry.”

Cherry. She was trying to kill him.

As they trundled down the stairs to the gravel parking area behind her building he asked casually, “How’s your dad?”

“He’s in Riverbend.”

Not what he’d asked.

“How long’s he been there?”

She spun around. “Where’s your truck?”

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