Chapter 2
Kannen
When I reach the place Stormy’s renting, my heart starts galloping. It always does when I think about her.
There she is standing in her doorway. She’s stop-dead-in-my-tracks beautiful with curves like a hallelujah-hot-damn.
I’m not ashamed admitting I’m a goner for a woman I’ve only had a handful of conversations with. Though I’ve been friends with Jude, Stormy’s brother-in-law, since high school, I never got to know her.
And if I’m being honest with myself back then I was afraid to try. I wanted to cling to the hope that there could be a someday rather than get rejected. By the time I convinced myself to just go for it, she was dating.
But the day I heard she was free from her ex, I celebrated. Since then I’ve been waiting, biding my time for her hurt to heal.
Every now and then I see her ex in town. He swaggers around thinking he’s really something, but I see a man who’s in for a world of regret once he pulls his head out of his ass and realizes what he lost.
I walk onto the porch and Stormy steps aside to let me in.
I sweep off my Stetson and glance around the living room.
The furniture is covered with drop cloths, and the smell of fresh paint permeates the air. The late 1940s built house still has the original hardwood floors. The wood trim around the windows and doors hasn’t been replaced either. Houses like these were built to last.
Stormy moves across the floor to open one of the windows higher. “Sorry, we only used samples, but the smell is strong even with all the windows open. I probably stink of paint, too.”
No. You smell like this man’s dream. “It’s fine,” I tell her looking down into her pretty brown eyes.
She holds my gaze while a clock on the wall ticks through the silence then her eyes drift to my lips for a few seconds before she spins around.
I hear her take a deep breath before she pulls out the hair claw holding her hair back. She finger-combs it, then scoops it back up.
She’s wearing a short black T-shirt with a cowboy on a horse and the phrase Not My First Rodeo across her chest. Her frayed denim shorts are low rise showing off the tan skin above the button. I think about how her waist would feel in my hands.
Dried paint decorates her forearms, and a few spots are on her face.
“I know I’m a mess,” she says. “My sisters and I were joking around with the paintbrushes, and it got a little competitive.”
She looks around the room and then grabs a container of wet wipes. When she cleans the paint off her face, she misses a spot.
“I’ll get it,” I say, taking the wipe from her. I hold her chin still with one hand. And that’s a mistake. Because she’s soft and warm and I start getting hard and hot.
I concentrate on the paint, wiping carefully while slowly getting harder and hotter.
“Do you want to do it?”
I blink and freeze with my hand on her face.
“Well, do you?” she asks when I don’t answer her the first time.
“It?”
“The rodeo.”
“Oh.”
She grins. “Did you think I was asking if you wanted to do me?”
“Of course not,” I lie, balling up the wipe and stepping away. I don’t look at her because I know she’d be able to read the truth on my face. And also, because I’ve got the world’s most stubborn boner.
“I was asking if you wanted to do it because I wondered if you got roped into helping but didn’t really want to.”
“No, it’s fine.” As soon as I overheard Miss Ethel telling someone she was going to ask Stormy to work on the rodeo, I threw my hat in.
“Well, we’ve run into our first problem. I accidentally left the notes Miss Ethel gave me at the rodeo office. I’ll need to get those before we can start our planning session.”
She sits on the floor to put on a pair of sneakers. Her legs are long and shapely. They look good. They’d look even better wrapped around my waist.
My gut tightens.
She stands and dusts off the back of her shorts. “I’ll return soon. There are drinks in the refrigerator.”
I catch her arm as she starts past me and bring her to a stop. “The outdoor lights are off at the lot.”
“So? There are lights on in the mobile trailer office and I have a light on my phone if needed.”
“That office is at the far end of the lot. It’s not safe.”
She laughs. “Kannen, this is Lucky River, not Clover County.”
“No, but the rodeo grounds are closer to that county line than not.”
“In the far-fetched probability that something happens, I’m perfectly capable of handling it.”
“So am I.” I’m not about to back down. Sure, the odds of her running into a problem are slim because this is Lucky River. But because that side of town is right by Clover County, it’s never zero. I pull my truck keys from my pocket. “Let’s go together.”
Stormy puts her hands on her hips, then sighs and shrugs. “Fine.” She climbs into the passenger side of my truck.
I lower the windows to let the breeze in.
“Do you always get what you want?” she asks as she fastens the seatbelt.
I glance at her as I put the truck in gear. “Not yet.”