Page 10 of Sexting the Cowboy
“Silver fox,” I correct automatically.
Her grin widens. “Youhavebeen listening.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m not blind. Just busy.”
Mac takes another sip of coffee. “You’ll like him. He’s charming. All the Wyatts are.”
My heart gives a traitorous twist at the name. “Apparently.”
She notices. “Sorry. Too soon?”
“It’s fine.” I set my cup down, take a deep breath. “It’s just strange, you know? Seeing him again, here of all places. I thought I was past all that.”
“You probably are,” she says gently. “You’re just human. He’s the one who couldn’t keep up.”
I nod. “Yeah.”
We stand there for a while, listening to the muffled cheers outside. The sunlight coming through the tent flap turns everything gold, and for a few quiet seconds, it almost feels peaceful.
Mac breaks the silence first. “So. After this month, promise me you’ll do something fun. No rodeos. No cowboys. Maybe a beach trip.”
I smile. “Deal. But only if you go with me.”
“Done.” She raises her cup in a mock toast. “To the end of rodeo season and ex-boyfriends who stay gone.”
I clink my cup against hers. “I’ll drink to that.”
4
BRICK
The lemonade standsmells like sugar and childhood, which is funny considering how many adults are lined up in front of it.
I’ve been to a thousand rodeos, but this little corner of the festival might be the most honest part. The woman at the front is wringing out a rag over a bin of fresh lemons. Kids run past barefoot, their laughter competing with the announcer’s voice echoing through the loudspeakers. It’s one of the rare times when the noise doesn’t feel like a headache waiting to happen.
I grab my hat brim and tip it against the sun. The heat’s a heavy blanket, and I’m thinking about heading back to the trailer for water when I see her.
Dr. Annie Pearl.
She’s standing in line ahead of me, hair pulled up off her neck, scrubs traded for jeans and a plain white shirt that clings in all the right places. She’s got her phone in her hand, thumb scrolling, jaw tight like she’s fighting with herself about something. Probably whether she should stay or run. She doesn’t see me yet.
I take the moment to look—just look. She’s all soft edges hiding steel. Same woman from the medic tent earlier, but now the fluorescent lighting’s been swapped for sunshine, and she’s damn near blinding.
Golden-brown hair up in a ponytail, perfect for pulling from behind. Green eyes flashing behind those cat-eye sunglasses. Mind going a mile a minute. I’ve always liked that in a woman.
The line shuffles forward. She steps up, still scrolling, and the guy behind the counter leans in with the kind of grin that says he’s about to flirt.
Not on my watch.
“You should try the pink lemonade,” I say, voice lazy, drawl turned down to its natural setting.
Annie glances over her shoulder, already smiling out of politeness, until she recognizes me. Her smile drops fast enough to make me laugh. “Oh, it’s you.”
“You caught my act earlier?”
“Against my will,” she mutters, but there’s the ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.
“Glad to know I made an impression.”
