Page 7 of Filthy, Dirty, Cowboy

She tilts her head back and smiles, though I’m not sure if it’s genuine. Everything seems forced right now. Everything except the attraction I have toward her. Which, I’m not sure has much use considering her very well-known feelings about yours truly. I shake the thoughts of her away. Even if she did have the same thoughts about me, she’s too young and she’s about to head the deal that turns Rugged Mountain into a factory town. There’s no way this works. I can admire a beautiful thing and not touch it.

I think.

“Are you sure about this?” She glances toward me as I pull up into the west field of Waylon’s lot. There are usually horses grazing over here, but everyone’s been put to stable for the night. “Is this what you do for fun up here? You sit in a field and watch the sun go down? I thought that was something people did in like the eighteen hundreds.”

The truck bumps and jumps as we make our way to the top of a shadowed hill, just beyond the tree line. Maybe this is another reason we’d never work. If she can’t appreciate the small things, then I’m not sure what we’d have to talk about. Most of the fun in my life is based around nature. Fishing, hunting, watching the sun go up and down, gardening, ranching, hiking… the mountain is a lifestyle.

“Are you saying you’d rather spend the night staring at the blue light of your phone than this?”

At the top of the hill, an orange and pink sky unfolds over the top of the pine trees. A soft breeze pushes the landscape back and forth. Portia looks toward me.

“No. I guess I can see why you like this.” She pauses. “A little.”

Warmth swells in my chest as she glances back at the colors in the sky. Maybe there’s hope for her yet.

I step from the truck and grab a blanket from the back seat. “Come on. Let’s sit outside. I think I have a few beers in the cooler.”

The truck door creaks open, and she slides out. She’s tall, but still, I almost lose sight of her as she makes her way around the truck.

Though, her voice is still loud and clear as she calls out, “I see it now. The details on this truck must have cost a fortune.”

I laugh. “It’s all I have to spend money on. Besides, she’s functional and I use her for work.”

Portia laughs. “So,this truck of yours is a woman?Figures.”

“Ha. I’m pretty sure trucks are trucks.”

She lifts a Cheshire grin. “Do you have a name for her?”

My brows narrow like she’s crazy. “No. Who names their truck?”

“I have a feeling you do.” She shakes her head and looks at the tailgate like a mountain to be climbed. I forget it’s so high off the ground.

“Do you need help?”

She nods. “Yeah, but I don’t think you can lift me.”

“I lifted you off the tractor a few hours ago. I can lift you up onto the truck.”

“Yeah, but you were lifting me down. That’s different than lifting me up.”

I could argue with her, or I could toss her up there without another thought.

Option two is faster.

With that, I lift her like a feather on to the truck, lingering too long on the scent of flowers and vanilla on her skin. “See? Easy.”

“Oh.” Her brows raise and she looks away. “Is it weird that I’m giddy about that?”

I’m glad she’s giddy about anything that has to do with me, but I can’t figure out what I’ve done. “About what?”

She shakes her head as she tries to hide her reddened cheeks. “It was nothing. Sorry.”

“Oh no…” I grab two beers from the ice chest in the back of the truck. “It was something. I need to know… now.”

She drags in a deep breath. “The lifting me thing. No one has ever done that before. Well, not since I progressed to walking and talking on my own.”

“Really? Pretty little thing like you and no one’s tossing you around?”

---