Page 26 of The Cowboy Complication

Because the more time she spent with him, the harder it was to keep her own feelings in the friendly zone. Especially with him sitting so close, smelling so good, and making her feel so settled. Now that he was there, the bar seemed less loud. The prospect of staying awake seemed less daunting. The congestion seemed less smothering.

She was so focused on Cooper, she didn’t immediately notice one of the many ranch hands in the bar had veered toward their table, looking a little unsteady in his boots as his path aimed right for where she sat. She tensed in preparation for collision, but before he could get close, her chair moved across the floor, dragging away in a jerking sort of movement that had her jumping in surprise.

Cooper shot the obviously drunk cowboy a dirty look and the other man redirected his path, heading in the opposite direction. Once the coast was clear, she expected Cooper to push her chair back into position, but he left her where she was—tucked right up against him, the seats of their chairs tight together. Now, instead of simply touching knees, their thighs were practically fused, the warmth of Cooper’s leg heating hers.

She gave him a grateful smile. “Thanks. I thought that guy was going to plow right into me.”

“He wanted to plow right intopartof you,” one of the girls mumbled from behind a drink, the words so hushed she must have misheard.

“The ranch hands get a little rowdy.” Cooper’s gaze skimmed the space around them, his expression hard as he made eye contact with a few of the men in question.

“They’re definitely loud.” She leaned closer as another man moved past, coming uncomfortably close to dragging against her as he went. “And they don’t seem to have any sense of personal space.”

Cooper’s jaw set and he stood, moving to stand behind her. He tipped his head at his abandoned stool. “Switch seats with me.”

He didn’t have to ask her twice. Whatever would get her out of their way was fine by her.

Isla shifted her butt from one stool to the other, relaxing a little more now that she was no longer right at the edge of the crowd and Cooper’s big body stood between her and everyone else.

“Thank you.” Isla gave Cooper a smile as he sat down in her former spot, his body just as close as it was before.

“Pretty sure you don’t have to thank him.” Betty’s tone was dry as she crossed both arms over her chest, eyes leveled on Cooper.

“She’s right.” Cooper met Betty’s almost glare as he reminded her why he was there. “I’m just doing my job.”

10

Cooper

HE WAS AN ass. A dumb one with no sense of self preservation.

Or self-restraint.

If he wasn’t careful, Muriel would make good on her threat and he’d be the one on the business end of a cane before the night was over. But damned if he could help himself. The woman next to him was too sweet to be left alone in this den of vipers. And the threat dished out by the Bridge Bitches would only go so far and last so long.

Then every pair of Wranglers in the place would be circled around Isla, begging for the chance to end up on her bedroom floor.

Fucking ranch hands.

Even now they were sneakily eye fucking Isla from nearly every corner, watching her intently from where they hid behind bottles of beer and glasses of whiskey.

Luckily Muriel got a whack in on one earlier when the asshole tried to follow Isla to the bathroom. The howling that ensued is what pulled his attention to their little corner of The Creekery, helping him find them within seconds of stepping inside. It also helped set a precedent. Made it clear to everyone within earshot that the girls weren’t in the mood to be fucked with. So, for tonight at least, Moss Creek’s newest arrival wouldn’t be fed to the wolves.

She still looked uncomfortable as hell though, and it drew him in. Made him want to reassure her. Shield her from all the eyes and intention directed her way.

Leaning close, he lowered his voice. “You doing okay?”

Isla offered a little nod, her eyes downcast as they flicked his way. “I guess I’m just not used to all the noise in places like this.”

“It can get a little loud.” He braced one arm across the back of her chair—only to make the task of leaning easier—scanning the crowd as he added, “Especially in the spring and fall when the ranches bring in extra help to move the cattle around.”

Isla’s dark eyes finally met his. “So there aren’t always this many people in town?”

“Not this many ranch hands, no. They swarm the place twice a year.” He should have stopped there, but his mouth kept working all on its own. “And they’re notoriously pains in the ass.”

It wasn’t a lie. The department had trouble keeping up with all the extra problems that came with them. Most of the guys who did that kind of work were young and still acting like idiots. They came to Moss Creek for the extra money, but took advantage of everything else they could find.

And that included women like Isla.

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