Page 51 of Long Arm of the Cowboy

“There’s no room formaybe. Your ass cheeks are spilling out of those shorts.”

She gave them a small tug. “Better?”

“No, that is not better. Take them off.”

“Oh! I can do that.” In half a second she had them unbuttoned and shimmied down her hips.

“Oh. My. God. You’re not wearing…”

“Underwear? I told you, there aren’t any here that fit me.”

“Put them back on. You just can’t leave the truck.”

“Not even to go into a restaurant? I’m starving.”

“We’ll hit a drive-thru.” He watched her draw the shorts back into place and even after she fastened them, his stare lingered on her body. “Finish up, Lark. We have to get on the road.”

“I love when you take charge.”

“Not helping matters, Lark.”

She let her smile grow. “I say otherwise. Just let me put on my shoes and I’m ready.” She stuffed the mascara in her front pocket to apply later and looped the long handle of her bag over her shoulder.

With a shake of his head, Clay strode out. After he cleared the doorframe, he poked his head back into the room. “No more music.”

“We’ll see.” She purposely turned her back to him, exposing her ass in the tiny shorts…and was rewarded with the sound of a low groan.

ChapterEleven

Watching a woman apply makeup had never interested Clay at all. But watching Lark do it? Was mesmerizing.

She leaned close to the truck mirror, brushing liquid over her lashes with slow, even strokes that wasn’t sexual in any way but had his balls tightening.

And she made cute faces.

“Do you have to do that right now?”

She twisted her head, lips still frozen in an oval that only made his pulse pound harder. “Yes, I do. Honestly, are you sure you don’t get off on authority? Because you’re sounding a lot like my dad right—”

He threw up a hand. “Stop! Don’t say it. Ever.”

“I didn’t say youare,Clay. Only pointing out that first you tell me I can’t listen to the music I like—”

“Because you screamed.”

“Like I was being gutted by a paperclip.” She bobbed her head in a cheerful way.

The woman was driving him insane. Hell, she was insane. Or the most unpredictable and eccentric human being the world had ever seen.

Also wearing the tiniest shorts he’d ever set eyes on, and he’d seen a lot of prostitutes on the streets as a beat cop in Denver before settling into Stone Pass, Montana.

He twisted his stare away from her. At least her top covered what the shorts lacked.

She screwed the lid of the mascara on and dropped it into her Bug-Out-Purse. “Are you gonna tell me where we’re going now?”

“In time.”

“That wasn’t the bargain. You said when we got on the road.”

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