Read Falling For A Cowboy Online

Authors: Anne Carrole

Falling For A Cowboy (2 page)

He leaned both elbows on the counter
.
A
firm butt
jutted behind
to fill
out his worn
Wranglers
.
Along w
ith
the
plaid
,
pearl-buttoned shirt
,
he
had on
the uniform of a cowboy
.
Based on the weathered cast
of the fabric
,
she figured he might be for real rather than a wannabe
tourista
,
even if he wasn

t a contender.


I just won saddle
bronc
.

His smile lit big, showing off snow white teeth and
a
very kissable
mouth
.
It
would
definitely be someone other than her enjoying those f
ull
lips now that he

d confessed he was a rough
stock rider. Not that she

d had any intention of trying
,
or any hope of success.
She
wasn

t the kind of woman
that
guys like him went for.

She gave him a once over for effect before commenting
.

You

re too tall to be
a
bronc
rider
.


So I

ve been told
.
But then Dan Mortens
e
n

s
been
a
n NFR saddle
bronc
qualifier multiple times
and he

s
close to six feet
.
And
, of course,
I did just win
a couple grand
.

Langley
had just upped its prize money to try to attract more cowboys
.
With the changes in the PRCA tour,
the town fathers were afraid the best riders
might neglect
Langley
if it didn

t provide more incentive. It had caused quite a ruckus until
Dan
and
Jenna Connors
, local ranchers,
had
agreed to guarantee the additional money
.


True
,
but he

s the exception.


That proves the rule?

This time she couldn

t help the smile.


There it is.

The cowboy chuckled
, those blue eyes of his lighting right up
.

I thought maybe you didn

t know how
.


I know how about a lot of things.

T
hose words
snapped
out before she
could stop them.
Last thing she wanted
was
this cowboy to think she was flirting
.
She wasn

t
into
puffing up
cowboy
egos
.
Especially at her
own
expense.

He brought the beer to his lips while his gaze held hers. Darn if she could look away.

I bet you do
darlin

.

He took a sip and set the beer down
.

This place on your T-shirt


he
stare
d at
the small rise of her
chest where
bold blue letters spelled out
B
eehive
Saloon
.

Y
ou

ll be working there tonight?

Heat stole up her face
as his gaze locked on her body
.
She

d never been well-endowed like
her best friend
Tara
Lynn
.
Dusty
was tiny—small-boned
,
her mother called it
.
Another name for barely there.
She wasn

t the
kind of
girl Texas cowboys hungered
for
.
Not that she wanted this one to
hunger
for
her
.
But she didn

t
appreciate the
reminder
his stare
sent
.

She wait
ed
for him to look up
.
No way was she going to have a conversation
with
his hat.

When he finally
raised his gaze
,
she answered.

No.


J
ust run the concession?

This was
getting beyond
mindless
conversation.
Didn

t anyone else want a beer
?
S
he stared out at the almost empty walkway
.
The announcer

s voice was still booming from the box and cheers were heralding good
bull
rides.


On
ly
Saturday
s,

she said
.

That

s
four dollars
.

He fished in his pocket causing the denim to stretch over private places
.
Damn
.
Don

t go there, she silently cautioned her eyes
.
Too bad they weren

t listening.


If I go
to the B
eehive
tonight
, wi
ll I
at least
see you there?

he asked, giving her
the kind of smile that
promise
d
a good time. He held out
a
five
dollar
bill
.

Keep the change.


Thank you,

she said, ringing him up
.

And unlikely.

He frowned for the first time
.
He obviously hadn

t expected that answer
.
Good looking as he was, s
he imagined few women
said no
to him.


I

d appreciate the company unless you

re in a relationship or something.
Maybe even then.

He flashed another grin but this time it didn

t reach his eyes
.
He was undoubtedly looking for a reason for her refusal.

She wouldn

t
lie to
spare his pride
and s
he was
n

t
fooled
into thinking
he really wanted to be with her
.
He was just placing a safe bet in case he couldn

t score with anyone else.
She was
all too familiar with the routine
.
She

d show up and he

d already have his arm around a woman with
ample
curves
in all the right places
and he

d forget he

d
ever met
Dusty
. Not that she would have agreed under any circumstances
.
He was a rodeo cowboy after all.

No
relationship
.
Just not interested.


Ouch.

He straightened to his full height
, a frown creasing his
rugged
forehead
.

Movement behind him caught her eye
.
Finally someone
else
was coming
for a beer
.

A wiry
young cowboy
sauntered up
and slapped
her customer
on the
back
.

Hey, Clay
.
Thought I

d find you out here.

He was shorter than
his friend
.
H
is denim jeans and chambray shirt
were
dusty, his
broad
brow sweaty under the beige cowboy hat.

Where there

s a
pretty
woman, that

s where you

ll find Clay.
Howdy ma

am.

He tipped his hat and settled it back on his blond head of hair.

Don

t believe anything he

s told
you.

She graced
the newcomer
with a smile.
He

d just confirmed
her instincts
.

Beer?


Please,

h
e answered
, giving her a hu
g
e grin in return
.
He wasn

t handsome like his friend but he had an open, honest face.


I

ll buy
,

Clay
called
from behind as she drew
the
beer. When she turned around
a five dollar bill was
on the counter.

She set the beer down and retrieved the money.
The cowboy said his thanks, keeping his mouth in a grin.


Keep the change
but a
t least tell me your name
.

Clay

s hands were keeping his hips
company.

She rang up the sale
,
star
ing
at the register rather than
at
him
or his friend
.

Dusty
.
Dusty Morgan.


For your hair, I

m guessing.

She glanced up.
He was smiling at her again
.
She had to give it to him for persistence—and for guessing right
.
She nodded.


I

m Clay Tanner and this here grinning fool is Jesse
Blair
.

He reached out a hand
.
S
he could do nothing but grasp it
.
His grip was strong, his touch warm. When he released, she felt tingles
clear through her arm
.
Lordy
.
Jesse shot his hand forward and she gave
it
a quick shake—and felt nothing.

Other books

Always a Scoundrel by Suzanne Enoch
Second Chances by Clare Atling
The Vorkosigan Companion by Lillian Stewart Carl, John Helfers
Dead Man's Hand by Pati Nagle
Supernatural Fresh Meat by Alice Henderson
Child of All Nations by Pramoedya Ananta Toer