Page 7 of The Cowboy's Surprise Return

Jackie’s jacket was draped over her lap, and Cole struggled with the sting of disappointment upon missing a glimpse of her underwear.

“Tug here?” he asked, hooking his thumbs in the tight ankles of her jeans. “Ever heard of boot cut?”

“I was trying something new,” she said, gesturing to the high heels she’d kicked under the table.

“Sexy,” he said, before realizing the comment might make her uncomfortable, seeing as he was currently peeling off her jeans, and trying—and likely failing—to act as though it didn’t affect him.

“That was the idea,” Jackie murmured, scowling at the pink shoes.

“Catch anyone while out trolling?” he asked idly, sliding the pants from her legs. She hissed as the material grazed her left knee. He reminded himself of his personal vow to remain single. He tended to take charge of women’s problems like they were his own, which had been unappreciated and a source of constant tension with April. He hurt people, and he hadn’t quite figured out how not to do that yet.

There was no way he was going to take a lovely, lighthearted woman like Jackie Moorhouse and run her through the Cole wringer. Or as Brant had once called him, the human hurricane. She might look tough, but he sensed there was something delicate about her.

He gently cupped a hand over the skin above her knee. It was warm, the joint already swelling. It wouldn’t be long until it was all colors of the rainbow. “Think you broke anything?”

“Hope not.”

“Have any ice?”

She nodded and gestured to the kitchen.

“Here, work on cleaning up.” Cole handed her the items he’d collected from the bathroom, then returned moments later with a bag of ice from her fridge freezer. He settled himself across from her once again, sitting on the table, then helped her stretch her injured leg along his thigh. Awareness prickled everywhere their bodies touched.

“Try this.” He gingerly lowered the ice onto her knee. For a moment their hands connected as they positioned it. He dragged his away, wondering why the touch had felt meaningful and tender.

“Remember when you used to chase me at recess?” he asked.

“You never let me catch you,” she replied, a slight scolding tone in her voice.

“What would’ve happened if you had?” He figured she’d been all about the pursuit. But a part of him was curious if she’d had plans for him if she’d ever managed to snag him.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Her sly smile sent tingles up his spine again, and caused a tightness in his torso.

“I would.” Their eyes locked. “And it seems as though you’ve currently caught me.”

Her eyes, still that crazy indigo, hid behind lowered lashes for a long moment. Then she looked up, her steady gaze locked on his once again.

“Cole,” she said gently, and he tensed himself for the letdown. “You’re a catch-and-release cowboy.”

He nodded, thinking that for the first time in a long while, he wanted to be catch-and-keep.

* * *

“What if you kept me for a spell?” Cole asked. While he’d posed the question lightly, making it easy to laugh off, Jackie’s stomach filled with heat. It was an offer. An offer from Cole Wylder.

But it was for something akin to a fling. Nothing more.

“Yeah?” she asked softly, playing along, while her heart sank and her hope soared like a traitor. “How long should I keep you?”

His lake-blue eyes darkened and his tongue rolled across his top lip as though he was imagining a flavor. As though imagining kissing her?

She wriggled to the edge of the couch, her head spinning. She reached forward, allowing her good hand to drift across the shoulders she’d dreamed about for so long.

She didn’t want a fling, but she could enjoy a kiss before releasing him and the ancient crush that no longer served her, discard it like a hermit crab would its outgrown shell.

She watched him as she moved into his space. He hesitated for almost too long, then his hand slipped up her bare thigh, the other cupping her face, causing her to shiver.

When he was a breath away, he stated, “I’ve sworn off women.”

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