Page 3 of Bad Cowboy, Tennessee

Maybe I’d imagined it?

A rattling sound came again a moment later, more loudly this time.

My chest went cold. I set my glass down on my kitchen counter, turning quickly in the dark.

“Misty?” I muttered to no one. But the tabby stray hadn’t been on my porch all week. My little barn was surrounded by grass, shrubs, maple and oak, and my parents’ house was on the opposite end of our two acres of land. There was no way anybody could mistake the front door of this old barn for anyone else’s.

The handle jiggled now.

Someone really was trying to get in.

I moved away from my kitchen counter, crossing toward the front of the living room. It was dark outside and dark in here. I hadn’t bothered turning on any lights when I stepped inside ten minutes ago, bone tired after my shift at the bar. The only light was the tiny glow above my stove.

I thought about the comments on my latest video.

Some of which seemed a bit…stalkery.

I’d filmed my last video shirtless and it had been getting a lot of attention from men. I was straight, but I didn’t mind the compliments. But if one of the creepier comments actuallyhadbeen someone threatening, and they’d found out where I lived?

I was fucked.

I didn’t think I had reason to feel unsafe… until about thirty seconds ago.

My pulse was rising. A thin strip of moonlight came in across the living room, and my gaze landed on the corner, where I had an old hockey stick from college resting on the wall. Not exactly the best self-defense weapon, but I could crack someone over the head with it if needed.If only I’d played baseball instead.

I padded over the hardwood floor as quietly as I could and closed my fingers over the cool lacquered wood of the hockey stick, gripping tight.

As I stepped toward the front door a floorboard creaked.

“Shit.”

I’d remodeled this barn with a lot of TLC, and even though it looked nice and cozy, the place wasn’t Fort Knox in the security department.

When I heard the handle being fucked with again, louder this time, my heart lodged itself somewhere up in my throat.

I sucked in a breath through my nostrils.

Fuck.

Think. Think.

I had no time to think. If someone was trying to break in, I wasn’t going to sit around and wait to be ambushed.

I needed to ambushthem.

I moved to the front, grabbing the handle and yanking the heavy door open.

Holy fuck.

It hadn’t been a false alarm. There was a man.

A stranger in a black cowboy hat on my porch, trying to get in.

To my fucking house.

My spine went cold and time froze. I saw his silhouette with the glow of the moon behind him.

The outline of a cowboy hat. His body, hard and muscled.

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