Page 42 of Perfect Cowboy

“Yes, he actually did,” Ashley replies. “He’s thirty-five and she’s nineteen.”

“Is she his assistant?”

Ashley laughs without humor. “That would be too good, right? But no, they met at the gym, at least according to him. Who knows. It might have been Tinder. We were… having… problems. I’m not surprised or even upset that our relationship ended, but I wasn’t expecting to be broke and homeless, too.”

“Why didn’t you go to stay with Brady?” I ask, referencing Ashley’s brother.

“He lives abroad. He never stays in any one place too long. Brady loves to travel and just enjoy life as much as possible.”

“And so here you are.”

“Here I am.”

I’ve finished all the food on my plate, and I go back to get more. Thankfully, I brought pantry staples to leave with Ashley to replace everything I’m devouring.

I’m sure she wasn’t planning on having to feed a hungry cowboy for an extended period of time when she went grocery shopping.

“Are you moving back to Chicago?” I ask, when I return to the table.

“No. I can live anywhere now, so I might as well take advantage of the freedom. I’m thinking about California. I just need to set up some remote work, get some money saved up, and then I’ll be on my way.”

She’s good at leaving.

I almost say it, but catch the words before they’re released into the wild to make her think that I still care about what she does.

Idon’t.

“What did you end up doing for work?”

I have so many questions for her, but none of the ones I’m asking are what I’m most interested in. But I’m not sure that I’ll ever be prepared for the answers to those ones.

“I’m a graphic designer,” she replies, and it makes total sense because the girl was always sketching something. “I worked for a huge firm in Chicago, but I guess I’m unexpectedly a freelancer now.”

“It’s a good feeling to work for yourself.”

“Nothing feels good right now.”

I could change that fact and make everything feel really damn good for both of us.

Another statement that I’ll have to take to the grave.

“Speaking of…”

Ashley meets my eyes with a decidedly flirtatious look on her face, and I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be able to resist this woman given we’re stuck together in a six-hundred square foot cabin for God knows how long.

“Yeah?” I ask, my voice decidedly rumbly.

“Let me finish giving you that massage.”

“Ashley–”

“Did it feel good?”

I’ve had a headache at the base of my skull for the last two days. I could have hurt my neck in any number of ways, but work has been hell as a result.

Before I can answer – not that I know how to answer – she’s on her feet and walking behind me, resting her hands on my now bare shoulders.

“Well? Did it?”

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