Page 17 of The Cowboy Complication

He waited as his phone transcribed and sent the message, pushing the gas a little harder to get him home faster so he could give their conversation his full attention.

Isla’s response came through right away.

I don’t see why anyone would feel like they could drive while they’re drunk. It’s hard enough to do it sober.

The mechanical voice reading her words was flat and emotionless. So different from the soft, sweet way she would really say them. It was aggravating and made him change things up a little.

This time, he sent his response as a voice recording.

“People think they can do all kinds of things when they’re drunk. You’d be shocked at the shit I’ve seen them attempt.”

He was almost home when Isla’s response popped up, also as a voice recording.

“Like what?”

It was only two words, but the familiar tone had him relaxing. So much better than that stupid robot voice.

“Once, I had to catch a naked ranch hand who thought he was invisible and decided to run down Main Street in the dead of winter.”

He took a second to recall the moment, before continuing.

“I’m gonna guess he was on more than tequila that night, but still.”

He pulled into his driveway just as Isla’s response came through, so he shut off his truck and pressed the phone to his ear to listen.

“You’re kidding.”She laughed, the sound a little husky.“Did he make any excuses about shrinkage?”

That last bit made him pause. There’d been a few times while they were out driving that morning that he could have made a joke that toed the line, but he’d held back, unsure how it would land. Unsure if sweet, soft Isla would be flustered by something like that. Or offended.

Obviously not. And that had him grinning. Maybe this woman—his friend—had a couple surprises up her sleeve.

“He was pretty focused on figuring out how we were able to see him since he was invisible, but the cold was definitely doing some things that worked against him.” He paused, before adding, “Hopefully. Otherwise he was dealt a pretty bad hand.”

After unlocking the entry door to the garage, he let himself into the house, dropping his keys onto the counter and heading upstairs as he waited to see if Isla would respond.

She did. Right away.

The message started with a sigh and what almost sounded like the splashing of water. “Well, in my experience, those are the kind of guys who are oblivious enough to think they’ve been graced by the girth gods.”

That had his feet stalling out, socks sliding a little against the smooth hardwood of the upstairs hall.

“Did you just say girth gods?”

Maybe sweet and soft Isla had more than a couple surprises up her sleeve.

He was peeling away his uniform and tossing it into the laundry when she responded.

“I couldn’t think of anything to use with length. Maybe length lords? No. That doesn’t sound right. I like girth gods better. We’re sticking with that.”

His grin was wide as he chucked the rest of his clothes into the basket and headed for the shower.

“Either way. Neither of them blessed this guy, so hopefully he had a great personality.”

Switching on the water, he adjusted the knob before leaving it to warm up as he collected some pajama pants and listened to Isla’s next message.

“I doubt it. He was probably a tool who thought he deserved to be with a supermodel.”

Cooper paused, pressing the little triangle to listen to the message again. There was something in the way she said it that added an extra piece to the Isla puzzle he was putting together. It wasn’t difficult to assume whatever tool she’d dealt with was the same one she’d imagined under the tires of his truck.

---