Page 84 of Heart Like a Cowboy

The rider made the turns and maneuvers look effortless, and she was pretty sure there was some kind of life lesson in that. But Alana couldn’t figure out what.

Beside her on the table was a pile of flower remains. Petals, stems and leaves from the handful of lazy daisies she’d picked and brought into the cabin with her. According to flowers number two, five and six, she shouldn’t be here. According to numbers one, three and four, she should be.

Since it was a tie, Alana had decided the tiebreaker was the ladybug she’d accidentally brought in with her flower stash. Before Alana had put the bug back outside, it had crawled over what she was certain was a petal from the number three daisy, and that had been enough to get her to stay.

She heard the sound of the approaching vehicle. Egan, no doubt. She checked the time and saw that it’d been less than a half hour since she’d arrived so that meant one of the hands, Maybell or Effie had seen her car heading toward the cabin and told him. Of course, she’d known that would happen and secretly counted on it.

Sighing, she got up from the table and flicked away the photo that she had pulled up on her phone. That was another element of the emotional stew that she’d save for another time.

She walked toward the door, stopped, and then decided to do something that just might convince Egan that she wasn’t about to lose her mind. Then again, he might think this was proof of such mind loss. But for a minute or two, it would distract him, and therefore, it would distract her.

Alana yanked off her dress to the sound of the vehicle door shutting and then got into a battle with her bra. The hook jammed or something so she twisted it around. Not the best idea she’d ever had because the right cup was still clinging to her right breast while the other one was jammed in such a way to make it look as if she were wearing some kind of extreme push-up device meant to show off her cleavage.

Alana stopped the battle when she heard the footsteps and got a horrible thought. What if this wasn’t Egan? What if it was Blue, Jesse or one of the other hands? That sent her scrambling for her dress.

Just as the front door opened.

It was Egan, and the sound of relief she made was loud and contained a lot of breath gushing. That could have been the reason he froze because he wouldn’t have been expecting her to be relieved about much of anything. But Alana figured the near nudity was playing into his reaction as well.

“Are, uh, you okay?” Egan asked, stepping inside and shutting the door behind him.

Alana couldn’t help herself. She laughed because clearly she was far from okay. The laughter jangled with nerves. And yes, some fear. Fear that her life would always be that jangle she was feeling now.

She went with another impulse. “For now, please don’t be the good guy you are,” she said.

His forehead was already bunched up, but that created even more bunching. Obviously, she needed to explain that. Which, of course, wouldn’t be easy, but she gave it a try.

“I don’t want you to keep your hands off me because you think I’m not capable of making a wise decision.” All right, not her best attempt so she tried again. “You wouldn’t kiss a drunk woman, but I don’t want you to think of me as drunk. Or drunk-ish.” She fanned her hand over her body. “I know this will lead to sex, and it’s what I want.”

She glanced down at herself and laughed again. With her bra still at odds with her and her dress wadded up in front of her stomach, she wasn’t exactly a vision of a sex goddess.

Egan pulled in a long breath as if he was certain he was going to need it and others. He went to her, slipped his hand around the back of her neck and brushed a too-tame kiss on her lips. When he sniffed her breath, she realized he was, indeed, checking to see if she was drunk.

“You wouldn’t be taking advantage of me,” she insisted.

“I’m not so sure about that,” he muttered. He grimaced and groaned after she bumped her body against his. “I don’t want to do anything you’d regret.”

“See?” Alana said, as if that proved her point. “That’s why I told you to not be the good guy. I want someone a little lecherous. I want lusty and randy.” She drew a blank on any other synonyms. “I want...you,” she clarified.

“Why?” he countered. “I mean, why do you want me now?”

She hated the logic. Hated that he was right to question her. She just wanted to forget, and that meant she was using him. Or rathertryingto use him.

When she blew out a string of sighs, he scooped her up and carried her to the sofa. “You should be with your dad,” she muttered.

“My dad’s fine. He’s at home being pampered by Maybell and Effie.” He sat down with her on his lap. “I think at the moment you need me more than he does.”

She did. Mercy, did she. She hadn’t had cardiac arrest, but the crushing pain in her chest was almost physical.

Using just the tip of his finger, he gently moved a strand of hair off her cheek. “Do you want to talk or would you rather I get that bra untangled from your nipple?” he asked. “It’s sort of poking out there between the jammed up and twisted strap.”

She glanced down to confirm that was true, and with more groaning, she buried her face against his shoulder. “Please tell me that you were at least a little tempted to jump me where I stood and that you weren’t just feeling pity for me.”

“Oh, I definitely had thoughts of jumping you. Still do,” he whispered, giving her earlobe a nip. “But I guess I just can’t ditch that good streak.”

Truer words had never been spoken, and that only added to her misery. Because Egan would always think of her as Jack’s widow. Correction, as Jack’s wronged widow. Egan would never be free to love her.

That left sex.

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