Page 106 of Coming Home Country
By eleven, I found myself staring at my computer screen, having burned through the minimal amount of work allotted to me since my return. What the fuck was I supposed to do with myself for the rest of the day?
Not wanting to be caught searching for a new job on the company server, I decided to browse apartment listings in the city. When the site asked me to enter an amount I was willing to pay for rent, it gave me pause. I made decent money, but staying downtown was expensive, even for a one-bedroom, and I needed to be mindful that I might be facing a gap in employment.
Resigning myself to a long commute on the “L” each day, I broadened my search to the outer community areas of Chicago.
Why are you searching for a new job and a new apartment up here when your dream home and soulmate are waiting for you in Rust Canyon?
The ache in my chest kicked up, and I let out a near-silent groan, dropping my forehead to the polished wood surface of my desk.
A knock sounded on my open door, and I made sure to plaster on my most professional smile before lifting my head to greet my visitor.
It turned out to be Molly, another junior associate. Her cheeks were flushed, and she pressed a hand to her rapidly rising chest.
“Rebecca,” she breathed out.
I fought the urge to flinch. For the rest of my life, hearing my legal name would conjure memories of Aaron. There was no point in correcting anyone at Brooks and Andrews when I had one foot out the door, but as soon as I landed a new job, I would make my preference to be called Bex known.
“What’s up?”
She fanned her overheated face. “Have youseenthe man hanging around at reception?”
Waving a hand toward my computer screen, I couldn’t keep the bitterness from my tone. “Been a little busy.”
Stepping further into my office, she lowered her voice. “Swear to God, he glanced my way, and my panties burst into flames. He’s got that kind of rugged look where you can just tell he’s good with his hands.”
“That’s nice.” I brushed her off. The only man I was interested in was nearly a thousand miles away.
“And that twang. He’s got country boy written all over him.”
She had my attention now. “What makes you say that?”
“Let’s see.” Molly ticked off attributes on her fingers. “Flannel rolled up to his elbows. Jeans molded to his thighs and ass to perfection. Cowboyboots peeking out from beneath the hem of said jeans. All he’s missing is the hat.”
Heart rate kicking into triple time, I shook my head slightly. There was no way. It had to be a coincidence.
Shoving my chair away from my desk, I stood.
Pulse pounding in my ears, I walked as fast as my heels would allow toward the firm’s partitioned reception area.
When I got closer, I noticed a crowd had gathered. They all had one thing in common: every single one of them was female.
Their hushed words layered over one another.
“Damn. What I wouldn’t give to take that cowboy for a ride.”
“The man is a walking billboard for forearm porn.”
“Forget about the forearms. Look at his thighs. Those jeans are worn inallthe right places.”
My manners took a backseat to the urgency coursing through my veins, and I shoved my way through.
The air froze in my lungs when I caught sight of him through a wall of glass.
He came for me.
“Tucker.” His name slipped past my lips, barely audible.
Several heads whipped around to gawk at me. One stunned voice asked, “Youknowhim?”
