Page 55 of The Rough Rider

Again, she felt slightly disquieted by the domesticity of it all. Or maybe just how much she liked it. But really, wasn’t this the point? They were partners. Friends. Working together to build a family. To make something new and better than what they were given. And they would do it.

They were doing it.

She walked around the back side of the house, and stopped. Because there was Gus, pitching his cowboy hat onto the ground and grabbing the bottom of his shirt, wrenching it over his head. And then he picked up a bucket of water on the ground in front of him, straightened and dumped it over his head.

And all Alaina could do was stand there and stare.

Water rolled down his perfectly defined chest. His—dare she be so cliché—rippling abs. She had known that he was rock-solid. She had known that he was muscular. But she hadn’t realized that he was so beautifully formed. Tanned skin with scars here and there. Dark hair scattered across a broad chest. He was lean, but big.

And it could not be denied, as she sat there feeling parched as hell, that Angus McCloud was a whole thirst trap.

Did shewanthim?

Well, the thing was, she had never even thought she could aspire to a man like that.

He was aman. Not a green boy like Travis had been. She couldn’t even muster up any enthusiasm for the flutters that she’d once felt for Hunter, who was definitely a more mature kind of handsome than Travis had been.

But this was something else.

Gus McCloud was something else.

And maybe that was why. Maybe that was why she had always pushed the Gus situation to the side. Because this was big. And terrifying. And she kept on staring. At that lean waist, at the dramatic cuts that seemed to point straight down below the belt line of his jeans. And then he turned, just partway, his biceps and shoulder muscles shifting with the motion, little tiny muscles all along his ribs popping out.

She needed to retake anatomy. Because she was seeing a whole lot of muscles with names she wasn’t even certain of. And she would like to be able to catalog them as she stood there staring at him like he was a hamburger.

“Hey,” he said, tilting his chin up. And of course he had no idea. No idea that she was literally slack-jawed in awe over his masculine beauty. Because why would he? Why the hell would he?

He thought it was silly. Absolutely ridiculous that she might engage in that sort of relationship with him. So of course he wouldn’t think it was any less silly that she would be staring at him feeling like she had no idea what sexual attraction was before this moment.

“Dinner’s ready,” she said.

“Great,” he said, grabbing his T-shirt and dragging it over his face. “I’m starving.”

“What were you doing?”

“We had a horse spook, and I flat out killed myself going after that thing. I have concerns. I thought he had a placid enough demeanor to use him in the therapy program. But now I don’t know. We cannot have that happen with a kid.”

He looked so concerned, and that did something to her too.

But mostly, it was his chest.

“Well,” she said, coughing. “I don’t want dinner to get cold... But if you need a shower or...”

“No, I’m good,” he said. “All I needed was to cool off.”

“Right. Cooling off. Well. Guess you did that.”

“Guess I did.” She stared dumbly at him. He stared back. “You get any closer to making a doctor appointment?”

“I’ll call. I’ll call right now while you get changed for dinner.”

“All right,” he said.

And she scampered off like her ankles had caught a light, and the rest of her was liable to catch it too.

Because that was how she felt.

It was damn well how she felt.

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