Page 9 of Dirty Cowboy

"She won’t find out," Julian says, without hesitation.

Tristan checks his watch like he’s got this all mapped out. "When the time comes, we’ll bring her back."

My stomach sinks. John Silver—Fred to his closest—has been the backbone of Silver Securities for decades. Losing him is going to devastate the family. But Emma? She won’t just be devastated. She’ll be wrecked. And their plan? It’s the dumbest one I’ve ever heard. Emma’s sharp. Keeping her in Lords Valley won’t be easy. While I’m not a fan of lying to her, I need her help.

And if I’m being honest? Spending time with little Emma sounds…enticing.

I rub my hands together. "So, when’s this happening?"

"Can you stay the night and come by in the morning? I have an appointment I can’t reschedule."

"No problem. I’ll be here first thing."

As we say our goodbyes, the brotherly hugs feel heavier than usual. On my way out, I take the same route back—past Emma’s office.

But she’s gone. Her chair sits empty, and disappointment knots in my chest.

I round the corner toward the staff room, and there she is, standing by the counter, utterly oblivious to my presence.

I stop, taking in the view. The curve of her ass in those tight pants, the way her braid falls over her shoulder, exposing the graceful slope of her neck. My fingers itch to touch. My mind whirls with a thousand inappropriate thoughts, but before I can say a word, she turns—and collides straight into me.

Scalding tea spills down her shirt and she yelps, "Hot, hot, hot!"

Instinct takes over and, without thinking, I grab the fabric, pulling it away from her skin, then lift the soaked blouse over her head.

She gasps. "Eric!"

"Does it hurt?" I murmur, blowing a cooling breath against her chest.

Her lips part, but no words come out.

"Emma," I press, my voice dipping into something darker. Something more dangerous.

She blinks up at me, those blue eyes wide, pupils dilated. There’s something between us, something unspoken and electric, and I can feel it crackling in the space between our bodies.

"No, barely felt it," she whispers, her voice breathless.

Liar. The Silvers are so good at their little innocent lies.

But when her cheeks flush pink, and her breathing turns shallow, I know she’s feeling it too.

"Hello, Emma." My voice is rougher than I intend, but my body is barely holding it together.

"Hi," she breathes. "What...what are you doing here?"

Good question. One I should probably think about before one of her brothers finds us like this.

Instead, I yank my shirt over my head and slide it over hers, guiding her arms through the sleeves. The fabric swallows her whole, but damn if she doesn’t look good wearing my clothes. Then again, she’d probably look good in a garbage bag.

Or a Lady Gaga meat dress.

That’s it. I need to think about meat dresses. Anything to keep my brain from imploding under the weight of how badly I want to touch her.

"Thanks," she murmurs.

"You’re welcome. I was hoping you’d be in the meeting."

She crosses her arms. "Meeting?”

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