Page 24 of Wrangled Up

If she kept telling herself this, her love-fogged brain might someday accept it and move on.

To someone like Christian?

The thought blindsided her. She’d spent two days with him, caring for the animals and making sure the ranch was operating smoothly. In those two days, she and Christian hadn’t spoken much, but a quiet camaraderie held them together. Two people working toward a common purpose.

And they worked well together. Cleaning stalls, holding a horse still while Claire examined its hoof.

There was something more to Christian. He was steadfast, calm. He eased her with his presence alone.

And Lord knew the man was walking sex poured into worn jeans and a T-shirt. Watching his back ripple with muscles as he shoveled manure or forked hay tempted her body.

Satisfied that Allie was nowhere to be found in The Hellion, Claire went to the bar to get a drink. While she waited for her usual Long Island iced tea, the man on the stool beside her started chatting her up.

“Ever wonder why people come here, little gal?”

She shot him a sidelong glance. She felt a story coming on and wished she could run. “I suppose it’s for entertainment.”

“Entertainment or fellowship?” he asked, his voice raised a notch like a preacher’s. “Was in the early 80’s when I came down here, looking for a friend. I’d just lost my brother. Had a good relationship, we did, talked every day. Lost my best friend when I lost Brian.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she said, taking a fortifying sip of her drink. She eased one foot away from the bar, prepared to take flight the instant she got an opening.

“I didn’t find a friend that day here at the bar, but I did take a sweet little woman home with me. She needed money bad, had a little ‘un to feed, so I looked at it as helping out a fellow human, not as paying for sex.”

Great. Why do half of these stories end with sexual escapades?She had no desire to hear about how many times he plunged into the woman or her flexible feats.

“Turned out the woman and I had a lot in common. We’d shared sex, but I ended up falling for her. Hard.”

“Excuse me, I just have to head back to my table. I think I see my friend.” She smiled at the man and turned away.

Her breath caught as she came up against the burning hunger in Christian’s eyes.

He stood five feet away, his expression burning with want even though she’d just had her heart carved out. Anger bubbled up inside her.

She reached over the bar and snagged the hose used to dispense soda. With a yank, she drew it over the bar top and aimed it right at Christian’s groin.

“Looks like you need something to cool off.”

He opened his mouth to say something, but she sprayed him before he got a word past his kissable lips. The club soda shot out and soaked his fly. She aimed lower, thoroughly wetting him.

“Son of a—Claire, what the hell’s the matter with you?”

Satisfaction replaced her irritation, and she handed the soda hose back to the bartender with an exchanged grin. Then she strode away from the bar, drink in hand.

Christian was on her instantly, snapping at her heels, his voice angry in her ear. “What the hell was that for?”

For devouring me with your eyes. For making me feel things I’m not ready to feel.

She glanced over her shoulder at his furious expression. His musky scent filled her head. “For looking at me as if I’m a dessert and you haven’t eaten in a week.”

He stopped short, but she kept walking. Feeling him fall away, she continued on with a bounce in her step. She didn’t take five steps before he appeared at her side, as if on a spring.

“Look, I know you’re hurting—”

She whirled on him, and her drink sloshed over her fingers. “Don’t talk to me about that.”

He met her gaze, and the understanding she saw there sliced through her more easily than any blade. Her chest tightened.

Christian wrapped his fingers around her wrist and drew her in. “Who knows how you feel better than I do, huh, Claire?”

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