Page 12 of The Cowboy's Surprise Return

It still zinged him, thinking how she’d brushed him off as a mistake. And somehow intrigued him, because how could she not have felt what he did every time they touched?

He hustled forward, weaving between rows of dusty pickup trucks, until he caught up with her.

Her eyebrows rose in question.

Shoot. He’d jumped into action without a plan. He’d stepped out for a breath of air, spied her familiar form moving across the parking lot, and had reacted.

He pushed back his hat, exposing his forehead to the chilly night, then readjusted it as though that could buy him time to think. “You leaving?”

She nodded, shifting her car keys to her other hand. “Why? Wanna come with me?” Her tone was flirty, not serious.

He wanted to accept, but was fairly certain she was only toying with him.

He leaned against the blue Ford beside him, scratching the back of his left calf with the toe of his right boot.

“You know I do,” he replied easily, pleased that his voice sounded casual.

“DoI know that?” she retorted smoothly.

He wasn’t used to her quick responses or the fact that she seemed to be made of Teflon. Everything ended up back in his court when they bantered. She wasn’t playing hard to get; she might actuallybehard to get—despite the rumors saying she wanted him.

He’d seen Jackie Moorhouse in action, and she could take or leave Cole Wylder, her catch-and-release cowboy.

Silence stretched between them, and she didn’t move toward her car with the taped-up bumper, expecting him to follow, accepting her invitation. Which meant it hadn’t truly been one.

“So, uh, you regret kissing me, huh?” Cole said finally, wincing.

Not cool, man. Not cool.

To his surprise, Jackie stepped up to him, wrapped her arms around his waist and placed an ear against his chest. She snuggled in, her warmth a reprieve from the late January chill. He hadn’t grabbed a jacket when he’d left the barn, and after a second’s hesitation, he slid his palms across her back. Down over her ribs, the narrowing of her waist, before the flare of her hips. He stilled his hands, knowing he would have no resistance if he continued exploring. He’d kiss her again.

She’d tell him it was a mistake.

He’d feel that same hollow sense of loss once more.

“The stars are out tonight,” she said.

Cole tipped his head back until the brim of his hat no longer shielded his view. Lots of stars were twinkling up there, so bright and close in the crisp night air he felt as though he could reach out and touch them.

“What are we doing?” he asked, when the silence grew once again. He was used to female contact going somewhere. Not that he was complaining. This was nice, too.

“It’s called snuggling.”

“Oh…” he said, drawing out the word as though comprehension was dawning. “This is what women are always wanting after sex. A body hug.”

She giggled, the sound easing any lingering tension as it vibrated against him.

“Areyou going to kiss me?” he asked, unable to help himself.

She studied him, her lips twisted in contemplation. “I haven’t decided yet,” she said at long last.

Amusement tugged at him. “Why not?”

“It’s not you, it’s me.”

“Ouch.” He released her, clutching at his chest as if she’d stabbed him.

She didn’t laugh, and he wanted to touch her, console her, reassure and comfort her.

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