Page 24 of Claimed By the Cowboy
“Nah, you’re just soft.” His gaze holds a hint of sin. “Bet you can’t keep your feet in for more than thirty seconds.”
The challenge in his voice makes me straighten. “Is that a dare?”
“Maybe. You up for it?”
I stick my feet back in the water with determination, immediately regretting it as the cold bites into my skin. I wait for what feels like an eternity before asking, “How long has it been?”
“About five seconds.”
“That’s it?” I grit my teeth, stubbornly keeping my feet submerged. “This is nothing. I once walked six blocks in January with holes in my shoes.”
Tom frowns. “That shouldn’t have happened.”
“It’s fine. Builds character.” I force a smile, trying to deflect from the pity in his voice.
“Like hell it does.” His voice holds a hard edge I haven’t heard before. “Pretty girl like you should never have to walk anywhere with holes in her shoes.”
Heat creeps up my neck at the compliment, but I try to keep things light. “How long now?”
“Fifteen seconds. You’reright about being tough.”
I yelp when something brushes against my foot. “What was that?”
“Probably a trout. Harmless little?—”
I jerk my feet out of the water so fast I lose my balance, windmilling my arms as I slide off the boulder.
Tom lunges forward to catch me but overcompensates. Instead of steadying me, his momentum carries us both sideways.
We hit the creek with a tremendous splash.
The water is even colder than I expected—shocking, breath-stealing cold that makes me gasp and inhale creek water. I come up sputtering, hair plastered to my head, clothes soaked through.
Tom surfaces beside me, shaking water from his hair like a dog, his hat bobbing beside him in the stream.
For a moment, we stare at each other.
Then I laugh.Genuine laughter, the kind I’ve only let loose with him since I’ve been here. Soon, I’m laughing so hard I can barely breathe. Tom joins in, his deep chuckles mixing with my giggles.
I wipe water from my eyes. “What is it with us? Every time we’re alone, something ridiculous happens.”
Like delicious kisses.
Tom grins, wading toward me. “Paint showers, rogue goats, surprise swims… I’m starting to think we’re cursed.”
“Orreallyaccident-prone.”
He shrugs, unbothered. “Could be fate’s way of keeping things interesting.”
I arch a brow. “You think nearly drowning in a creek isinteresting?”
“I thinkyoumake everything interesting.”
Tension pulses between us. His words steal the breath I just got back. My smile falters, heart thudding as the playfulness shifts into something deeper.
Water laps around us, cool and insistent, but I barely feel it. All I can feel is him—those eyes locked on mine like they see too much, liketheyknowtoo much.
Tom clears his throat. “Twenty-three seconds.”
