Page 16 of The Cowboy Complication

Grady studied him a second before caving. “Fine. I’d rather you do it than Gram-Gram. That woman shouldn’t teach anyone how to drive.”

“I don’t disagree.”

He glanced toward the house as movement on the other side of the kitchen window caught his attention. His eyes locked with Isla’s. She froze in place, cheeks still pink from their time outside. Her lips slowly curved as she raised one hand in a wave.

Grady gave the side of his truck a little slap, drawing his attention back. “I’ll let you get to it.”

“Yup.” Cooper gave his friend a tip of his head then closed the window against the cold. Before backing out, he took one more look at the house. Isla was gone from the window, making it seem oddly empty.

Shaking off the strange hit of disappointment, he took himself home to get ready for his mid-shift.

It wasn’t until he was driving past Isla’s apartment that he realized she had no way to get in touch with him to set up another round of driving. Not unless she wanted to ask Grady for his number. And after his friend’s little tantrum that morning, she’d probably be hesitant.

Stopping in the lot behind The Wooden Spoon, he slid one of his business cards into the mailbox for her unit, a note on the back explaining that he’d take her out driving whenever she wanted.

Hopefully she took him up on that. The last thing he wanted was Grady thinking he was lonely and dropping a whole herd of goats in one of his pastures.

* * *

The buzz of his personal cell caught him by surprise. His shift winding down, he was sitting at the edge of town, doing some paperwork on the MDT and counting down the minutes until he could head back to the station to clock out. The incoming message came at the perfect time.

He woke up his phone, thumbing across the screen to open the text from an unknown number.

Hey. This is Isla.

The bubble indicating she was typing popped up, bouncing around a few seconds before disappearing again.

Then it was back, lingering a few seconds before once again disappearing.

He chuckled at her indecision and tapped out his own response.

Isla? Never heard of her.

This time her bubble ended in a text.

You sure? She almost killed you by running your truck off the road this morning.

He laughed louder at that.

Ohhhh. THAT Isla. I might remember her.

A car sped by him, moving way too fast and driving way too erratically for him to let it go.

Gimme a minute. Gotta pull someone over.

Unfortunately, the traffic stop ended up being an arrest. By the time he had the intoxicated driver booked and the required forms filled out, it was late enough he hesitated to message Isla back.

But he couldn’t leave her hanging, right?

Sorry. DUI stop. Took longer than I expected.

He sent the message then started his truck, figuring he wouldn’t hear back until the next day. He was used to keeping strange hours, but most people weren’t.

But he was barely out of town when his phone buzzed again, the Bluetooth connection allowing it to read the incoming text out loud.

That stinks. Did you have to stay late because of it?

He wasn’t used to having someone to talk to about his day and it made him glad he’d gone to the trouble of setting things up so he could easily respond using talk-to-text. “A little, but I don’t mind. I’m glad I caught him before he could hurt anyone.”

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