Page 40 of The Cowboy Complication

Yeah? What about these?

A series of photos of her in various positions, her perfect body accentuated by the dim light filtering across her skin, assaulted him in the best possible way.

The ache in his groin that had subsided while he was dealing with the call came back full-force as he scrolled through the images, each one making the throb in his dick more pronounced.

He was going to die. They were going to find him in his cruiser, stroked out, his dick still hard as stone. They’d see Isla’s pictures and it would all make sense, but it wouldn’t be long before everyone in Moss Creek knew what a piece of shit he was for lusting after the woman who was supposed to be his friend.

Luckily Isla didn’t seem to know it. Otherwise she wouldn’t have continued sending photos. He must not have totally fucked up with that message. Thank God. Because he couldn’t imagine his life without her in it. She made the days feel less empty. The nights not as long. Her friendship meant everything, and if he lost it…

No. He couldn’t even stomach the thought.

Checking the clock on his dash, he set his phone aside, deciding to wait until he was home to figure out how to respond.

After driving back to the station, finishing up his paperwork, and clocking out, he got in his truck and headed home, anticipation simmering under his skin.

Because he had an idea to smooth his earlier mishap over completely and get them back on the right track.

Once he was parked and inside, he took a quick shower and pulled on a pair of pajama pants, then he flopped onto his bed and snapped a photo, making a weird face at the camera. Sending it off, he immediately followed it up with a text.

Mine doesn’t look as good as yours.

Isla sent a laughing emoji then a link to an Instagram profile, followed by a message of her own.

You might want to check this woman out. She has some great ideas.

He opened the link and it took him a second to figure out what was going on, but then it clicked.

This chick was teaching men to take hot pictures women would actually like instead of just sending weirdly positioned, up-close photos of their dicks.

He watched a few of her videos then decided to give it a try.

It wasn’t as easy as she made it look, but after a lot of trial and error he had a few that weren’t terrible. One was a photo that was mostly of his arm and hand—apparently women liked forearms?—with the rest of him serving as the background. In another he was leaned back against the headboard with one arm curved over his head. The last was him leaning one arm against the edge of a window, the other hand in the pocket of his pants, as he looked out. That one required the most work. He had to figure out a way to prop his phone up and set a timer.

But they didn’t look half bad.

He sent them Isla’s way, chuckling at the turn his night had taken. Never would he have expected to spend it trying to figure out how to take an appealing—slightly sexy—photo of himself. It was a testament to the closeness of the friendship he and Isla managed to build over the past few weeks. The way they could talk about anything.

It was fucking amazing.

Almost as amazing as those pictures she’d sent him.

A little part of him still felt shitty about his initial reaction to them, but it was just because they’d been unexpected.

Nothing had changed.

They were still friends.

A fact that was reiterated when Isla’s voice message popped up on his phone.

He opened it right away, grinning at what he heard. Her sweet voice tried to match his earlier tone as she said a single word.

“Fuck.”

* * *

“Good morning.” Isla came out the door of her building looking just as sweet and sexy as?—

Fuck. No. Not sexy.

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