Page 43 of Fix Me Up, Cowboy
I groan. Not the Oh-God-I’m-dying-here kind of groan. This is more along the lines of an orgasm-associated sound.
Just minus the good stuff.
I sink lower into the water, once again thanking Charlotte for installing the large tub. The woman really was an angel (excuse the pun).
Leaning back against a folded towel, I close my eyes. But instead of thinking about Charlotte and John’s letters, my mind wanders upstairs to Noah. Yes, I’ll admit I might have sneaked a peek at the way his muscles bunched under his T-shirt when he hoisted up stacks of paper.
And I might have appreciated the way his muscles moved when he flung said paper into the bin outside.
As the pain eases, I feel a relaxed smile slide onto my face. Noah-therapy. Now if only I could bottle it for whenever my leg is acting up. That would be the ultimate medicine. Plus, it has no side effects.
Well, almost no side effects. The thought of Noah is causing my girlie parts to ache in a whole different way.
Don’t think about him. Don’t think about him. Don’t think about him.
That’s about as effective as telling great-aunt Margie not to ogle the hot lifeguards at the country club.
A tap at the door jerks me from my thoughts.
“Are you okay in there?” Noah says through the door.
Without thinking, I grab the face cloth and attempt to cover myself with it—momentarily ignoring that the bathroom door is locked. Unless Noah plans to smash the door down, he can’t get in.
“Yes, I’m fine,” I say over the nature sounds playing through my Bluetooth speaker. “I’m almost finished.”
“Okay. I’ll wait for you downstairs.”
“I won’t be long.”
I push myself up and carefully climb over the edge. The ache in my leg is still there but has downgraded to a version I can live with.
I style my hair and change into my favorite Louis Vuitton outfit. It’s a vintage-pink sleeveless princess dress that falls just above my knees. A narrow white belt completes the look.
Noah is in the living room, playing with Charlie, when I enter.
“I’m ready to go.”
He turns around. “Wow, you really clean up well.”
I give him a little curtsy. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
The corners of his mouth tilt up. “That’s good, because it was intended to be one. Are you ready to meet Asgard and Maui?” he asks Charlie, who barks and wags his tail.
On the way out, I remove his leash from the antique table by the door. He happily follows Noah outside. Noah opens the rear door to the truck, and Charlie jumps onto the back seat. Then he scampers between the two front seats to make himself comfortable on the passenger side.
“He’s used to sitting up front,” I explain to Noah.
“Fair enough.” He opens the passenger door for me and a doggy smile greets me.
Noah’s hands rest on my waist, and my whole body heats up. Oblivious to my body’s reaction, he helps me onto the passenger seat, and my temperature climbs a couple of degrees more. At this rate, I won’t need my cardigan even if the evening air cools. I’ll still be feeling flustered.
Charlie climbs onto my lap and parks his front paws on the armrest beneath the window. I fasten my seat belt.
Noah turns over the engine and pulls away from the house. “Are you okay if I have a shower once we get to the ranch? I’m sure Violet and Sophie are dying to ask you all kinds of questions about your life in Beverly Hills.” His mouth shifts into a cocky smile. “Or you can join me in the shower. That would be fun, too.”
My girlie parts second that opinion.
“I’m sure it would be fun.” The words slip from my mouth unabashed—mostly because it’s probably true. “But for now I’ll have to pass. I just fixed my hair and makeup.”
