Page 4 of Almost Perfect
He was tall. Not towering, but I was five-ten, so it was a rare man who full-on towered. But he had at least four inches on me, which I appreciated. Granted, he did have boots on to give him a little lift—brown leather cowboy boots from the looks of it.
Wait, do I need cowboy boots?Probably. Butnow’s not the time, brain!
His shoulders were broad inside a canvas-looking jacket, and he seemed built, but he also wore the outer layer plus some kind of plaid something that stuck out from under it, so he might’ve been hiding a giant beer belly and it’d be hard to tell.
Unlikely, based on this view, my rude, lascivious little brain whispered as I took note of his jeans and, honest to goodness—wait, really? Brown leather chaps. I wanted to laugh, but they looked… good. I’d never gone for the cowboy rough rider look buthi.Maybe I’d been missing out.
They framed his—
He looked like—
He broke my brain.
The probably-not-a-serial-killer brother-of-the-host chap-wearing cowboy-man straight up wiped my mind.
I cleared my throat, despite years of being reprimanded for the habit, grasping for the thread of the conversation. “He did, yes.”
“Good. Good.” Then finally, he looked up.
That didn’t help one bit, because my chappified brain only saw crystal-blue eyes on a face so rough and handsome, so unpolished and yet overtly beautiful, I let out a weird little gust of air and forgot completely about hiding my face from him.
TWO
Wyatt
Iwas not expecting a woman.
When Warrick told me to meet a guy named Callaway Rice at his new StayBnB rental sitting just a few hundred yards from our house, I said sure.
Should’ve been simple. Show up. Meet the guy and let him in. Show him around. Get home and start dinner before passing out after a long and mostly empty day.
I was not expecting a woman, and yet, there she was. And of course, I’d realized it was a woman when she came in, but I’d been so distracted, worried I’d forget to tell her something, that I didn’t take her in until this moment.
And… how? How had I not sensed it? How had I not known in some core part of me when she entered the house? I spent ninety percent of my time around men except for the paltry handful of dates I made myself go on each month. She should’ve felt different.
Shedid, now that I let myself notice.
This was one sincerely beautiful woman. And I couldn’t actually see all that much of her. Dark eyes stared back at me from under the brim of a cap pulled almost comically low. Dark hair, pitch-black, spilled over her shoulder in a long, fancy-looking braid. Each feature on her face that I could see looked perfectly shaped—cheekbones high and smooth, nose just right, full dusky pink lips, and… whatever else. Damn, if she’d just remove that hat. I studied her, wanting to piece together what she really looked like under there.
Which was clearly written on my face, because she winced. I shifted my eyes away for fear of making her uncomfortable. I was a fairly imposing man, and despite her being quite tall, she was still smaller than me, and a woman, and from way out of town.
Not ideal to freak out the new tenant.
“So, Wi-Fi password is there. Instructions for the heating are also there. The fire’s going strong, and the rest of the house should heat up quick. Warrick will swing by around nine tomorrow, or whatever time you arranged, to give you the full spiel. Questions?”
I felt her eyes on me but didn’t look again. Partly because I’d evidently creeped her out, and partly because I suspected I’d end up staring at her again. Something about her just grabbed at me—a feeling I didn’t remember ever having. Granted, I dragged through the days with as much feeling as a zombie, so maybe it wasn’t all that remarkable.
“Are you wearing chaps?”
I coughed, choking on air.
“Yes?” I dared a glance back at her.
She looked as surprised as I was that she’d asked the question.
“Huh. Okay.”
Odd woman.“Well, uh, anything else I can do for you?”
