Page 2 of Country Winds
“Thank you.” She smiled, and it about knocked him off his feet. “I’m Ellie.” She spoke in a normal tone and extended her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“The pleasure is all mine.” A slow heat burned in his belly as he took her small hand. “I’m Tucker. I own a ranch outside of Gold Canyon.”
“Currently, I live in Chandler,” she said.
So, Ellie was a city girl.
She tipped her head to the side, her long hair sliding over her shoulder as she slipped her hand from his. “Cattle rancher?”
“Horses.” Damn, he just couldn’t keep his eyes off her.
She nodded toward the path lined with shops and food vendors. “Would you like to join me for a turkey drumstick and a tankard of ale?”
“Sounds mighty fine.” The aroma of roasted meats had been teasing his belly, and he’d been about ready to head off for something to fill it.
They fell into step together. “Now you know I raise horses. What keeps you busy?”
“I’m a social media expert.” She smiled up at him. “I also started doing voicework about two years ago.”
A gust of wind whipped around them, raising Ellie’s skirts to swirl around her knees. He allowed himself to sweep his gaze over her body as she bent to hold them down. He couldn’t help but notice the tops of her breasts swelling over the corset she wore.
He held back a groan. Holy hell, but he wanted to cup them in his hands. A hint of a darker pink appeared, so close to a nipple popping out. The ache in his groin was more than he’d ever felt when looking at a woman he didn’t even know.
She tugged up her corset as she straightened, and he tore his gaze from her breasts, hoping she hadn’t seen him staring.
He cleared his throat, willing the heat in his belly to return to a normal state. Damn, but his jeans felt tight. “I was here as a teenager, but didn’t try the turkey drumsticks. I take it you like them?”
“They’re a part of the experience.” Her sensual voice made it all the harder to bring himself under control, but he managed.
To his great relief, they reached a vendor who sold what they wanted. Ellie fished a small wallet out of a pocket sewn into her skirt, but he held his hand up in a motion that told her to put it away. “Being a city girl, you might not know that a cowboy always pays. Non-negotiable.”
Her lips curved, a hint of amusement in her eyes. “When you put it that way, I guess I’d be in for a fight otherwise. Thank you, kind sir.”
He placed their order and took the drumsticks the vendor handed him. He gave one to Ellie, then passed a cup of ale to her, and she thanked him.
They walked away. “Not exactly a tankard, but it’s ale.” She raised the cup. “Here’s to meeting new people.”
He raised his cup and touched it to hers. “To a beautiful woman who smells like strawberry lip gloss.”
She laughed and sipped the ale. “Not bad.”
Tucker took a bite of his roasted turkey, enjoying the savory flavor of the meat as he chewed. He swallowed. “Hits the spot.”
“Told ya.” Ellie took a smaller bite of her drumstick, and he couldn’t help but watch her as he ate his own.
After she chewed her bite and swallowed, she sipped her ale. She tipped her head and looked at him as they walked. “Do you always watch women as they eat?”
“Pardon me for staring.” He wasn’t sorry but didn’t want to chase her away. “You’re just so damned beautiful, and you’re a nice young lady.”
“Not that young.” She smiled. “Thank you for the compliments.” They continued walking through the village created for the fair. Some attendees wore modern clothing, but many were dressed in traditional Renaissance attire.
They stopped by a small crowd laughing in reaction to physical comedy performed by a man dressed as a court jester and another decked out as a huntsman. The huntsman bore a slight resemblance to Robin Hood, a legendary figure created in medieval times that gained even more popularity during the Renaissance.
Ellie took a few steps closer to the stage to watch, and Tucker moved beside her, arms folded across his chest.
Holding a bow, the huntsman squared off in front of the jester. The jester balanced an apple on his head. The huntsman drew an arrow from the quiver strapped across his back and nocked the arrow.
The jester made faces at the man with the bow, who calmly released the arrow. Fragments flew when the arrow sliced through the apple. The pieces rained down on the stage as the arrow stuck in the bullseye of a large target behind the jester. The audience cheered.
