For Sam: A new-girl small town cowboy romance

Chapter 17 Sam

Ican’t believe I almost put the wrong binder in my tote for the meeting. Now I’m double-checking that my pens are in there, too, before going to the kitchen.

Sarah gave me two iced coffees to-go, just without the ice before I left, so I take them out of the fridge along with my ice tray. I smile as I loosen the cubes and put five in Tommy’s and four in mine. Filling the tray back up, I pop it back into the freezer and my bracelets jingle.

Making my mind up to wait outside, I take the drinks, my tote, and my sunglasses to the door and slip on my strappy sandals. I leave the light on just inside the door, pull out my keys, and throw the deadbolt, somehow balancing the coffees with one hand. Tommy wouldn”t have an issue holding both in one hand. They’re huge.

A flush creeps up my neck and my cheeks.

Now is not the time to think about the size of anything on Tommy Landen.

I open the front door to the building and Tommy’s truck is about to turn into the parking lot. He waves at me and, instead of pulling up right in front of me, he parks in a spot, gets out, and opens the passenger door for me.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I tell him.

“And miss a chance to say hello?”

“I’m about to get into your car, we could have chatted in there.”

There’s a sparkle in his eye. “I know, but then I wouldn’t have been able to open the door for you.”

I hold my tongue because I’m quite sure he could have leaned over to pop the passenger door ajar for me. I’ve had plenty of experience with that.

“Thank you,” I say, realizing that we’re only standing a foot apart and he’s slightly in the way of me getting in, but I don’t mind in the least.

“What’d you grab?” he asks.

“Half-caf.”

“Can’t go wrong there.” He holds out a hand to take them. “Here, you hop in and I’ll pass them to you to put in the cup holders.”

“Thanks,” I say, watching him put both in one hand.

“What?”

Oh my, I’m blushing.

“Nothing,” I squeak. In an attempt to avoid a no doubt awkward conversation, I quickly step into the cab of his truck. Even in my embarrassment, something about this seat is feeling more and more comfortable. It’s a silly thing to be thinking, especially right now.

“Okay,” he says, drawing out the syllables. Our fingers touch as I transfer them to the holders and the best kind of shiver rolls through me. My door shuts and Tommy makes his way around and gets into the driver’s seat. As usual, he smells amazing.

“You have everything you need?”

“Yep,” I reply, knowing my cheeks are less red at this point. I hope so.

He turns on the radio, playing country music at a low volume so we can talk about our days as if we didn’t text every few hours. Everything is easy. Comfortable.

Well, it’s comfortable when I avoid looking at his hands.

What the heck has gotten into me?I’m not someone who has ever obsessed over the size of a guy’s thing, so why do I keep thinking about Tommy’s?

He clears his throat.

“I’m sorry, did you say something?” I ask, seeing that we’re already parked.

“No, you seem to be deep in thought.”

How embarrassing.

“How long have we been here?”

“Not long,” he says with a smile. “But you’re okay?”

I breathe in, letting that cedar and garlic smell center me. “I’m okay, truly.”

I leave off the fact that I’m now curious what his, well, his penis looks like. If I want to see it, I better get used to at least thinking the word. It’s not like I have to say it.

I snort out a laugh, imagining myself asking Tommy Landen if I can see his penis.

“Did I miss something?” he asks, a curious look on his face.

Busted.

“Um, nothing, just remembering something funny from work.”

“Uh-huh,” he says skeptically, watching me a little longer.

I squirm under his gaze until he puts a knuckle under my chin so I’m looking him in the eye.

“No hiding, remember?”

I swallow. Maybe it’s not such a crazy question. For later.

“It’s something to be shared after tomorrow, if ever.”

“Samantha Davies,” he says. “Are you blushing about our date?”

Hearing him say it out loud tonight has me feeling all sorts of things. Things that are most certainly not helpful to feel before walking into a room with your boss and a few other people.

I clear my throat the way I assume a trained debutante would and say in a terrible southern drawl, “Now why ever would I do that, Thomas Landen?”

He breaks out laughing until he snorts. My nerves and excitement have me giggling like a proverbial schoolgirl.

Hank walks in front of the truck to go into the building and we both quiet down to the occasional chuckle.

“We’ll make a true cowgirl out of you, just you wait and see.” He reaches across the center console and tucks a piece of hair behind my ear. “I have an extra-early morning tomorrow, so I’m afraid I’m going to have to drop you off and head right home when this meeting is done.”

He must see a little disappointment in my face. I realize that I was planning on him coming over again after the meeting. Or at least hoping that he could.

“It’s probably for the best though,” he continues with a little smile, “because tonight is not a date. Tonight is a work event. And we can’t have our first kiss tied to a work event.”

His eyes search mine for several heartbeats. His hand is still on my cheek, and I manage to find my voice, somehow.

“Who made that rule?” I ask.

“The guy who wants to do everything absolutely right with you.”