Page 36 of Breaking the Cowboy's Rules

“You’d enjoy that too much, Bodhi, but…” She stood on her tiptoes and whispered, “I’m going to be okay. And you are very, very sweet, but I’ll keep it as our secret.”

He met her gaze, stunned by the pain there and the empathy. It was like looking into a mirror. “Go meet your girl,” she said firmly.

For a moment he was afraid that he would fall on his knees and confess his sins, his secret, his desperate or dumb Rodeo Bride Game to make it all come right again.

Stay the path.

“Ma’am.” He tipped his hat like he was in an old-fashioned western—a move that had always made Ashni peel off in gut-busting laughter.

Her smile ghosted. She waved, and then, still holding on to the horse, she walked back through the blue door to her apartment for the week.

Bodhi drove to the Java Café, his mind a jumble. He was early so he parked, sat a moment, but knew he needed movement to calm his racing thoughts. He cut over to Front Street, wanting more privacy than Main Street would offer at this early time in the morning with the construction, ranch, and medical workers heading in to start their shifts. He walked to one end and stared moodily at the hospital complex. Then he walked back again, not wanting to be late to meet Nico—if she would meet him.

For the first time ever, he wondered about a woman. What if she changed her mind?

“Wised up more like it,” he muttered. So much was on the line.

He walked to the Java Café and pushed through the door. Nico was sitting at a small table in the corner, and everything inside him settled.

“You’re here,” he greeted.

Nico rose fluidly to her feet and hugged him, which both pleased and astonished Bodhi. He also noticed the full press of her breasts and imagined Ashni rolling her eyes and calling him “such a guy.” But the thought of Ashni dissipated like mist as he continued to stare at Nico.

“You look amazing,” Bodhi said, struck a little stupid by how beautiful she looked in the morning light of a Montana September day.

Her skin was flawless, petal-soft and so creamy he felt almost thirsty. And her eyes, so mysterious last night, were a stunning pale green with tiny yellow and brown flecks and even without the eyeliner had an exotic tilt at the corners, almost as if she were a pedigree cat.

And her mouth was a full pout, bare of lipstick, and made him think of things he shouldn’t a few minutes before seven in the morning. She was wearing the belt and buckle he’d loaned to her last night around her waist along with his shirt and her own skinny jeans. She looked edible and a wave of possessiveness he’d never imagined he could feel rolled over him.

“Beautiful, like a painting,” he stammered. “Thanks for meeting me. Did you get any sleep?”

No, of course she didn’t. He’d kept her out until the sky started lightening to dawn.

Where was all his cool? His game? He hadn’t been such an awkward idiot since adolescence.

“I’m more worried about you sleeping,” she said touching his cheek with one finger. “You said you had a lot of work to catch up on at the ranch as well as getting ready for a party at the end of the week.”

He felt her touch to his soul and had to battle the urge to kiss her finger. Suck it into his mouth.

God. He was an animal. They needed to get ground rules for the week. He should probably buy her a leash to keep him to heel.

“Let’s sit.” He held the chair out for her. She sank down gracefully. Everything about her was graceful, quietly sexy, appealing. She calmed him but revved him up in a way that he couldn’t quite wrap his head around. She was beautiful but refined, like Ash—and utterly unlike any woman he’d casually, almost instinctively pursued.

“I ordered a bunch of things.” She waved toward the plate of pastries and two breakfast sandwiches. “I googled a little about ranches.” A pale pink color stole across her creamy skin. “It’s hard work, so I figured you’d be hungry. I read it can also be dangerous.”

“It can,” Bodhi admitted, his eyes on hers even though his stomach rumbled. “So can the rodeo, so don’t google that.”

“Already did. You’re pretty good, the articles claim.”

“Good?” he echoed. Through the window, he saw Beck stop in the middle of Main Street and stare at him. “Perfect timing.” He waved and smiled his product-selling smile. From the looks of it, Beck flipped him off.

“Game on to you too.” He laughed.

“Who’s that?”

“The competition. My younger cousin, Beck. The idiot who’s lettingthegirl slip away.”

“The,” Nico repeated, using the same stress. “Sounds like there’s a story there.”

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