Page 3 of My Cowboy Date
Though his ears redden, River quickly denies that. “She’s my best friend, that’s all.” A skittish little dog he rescued last weekend runs forward and whines, then barks like he’s standing up for my brother.
I lean over and rub its head, and the dog closes his eyes. “You whine about as much as River does,” I tell the pup.
“We need access to that vaccine record,” Marshall nags, bending to scratch behind the mutt’s ears. “Right? There’s a good boy.”
“Aspen does treat him differently,” River says.
“I know,” Marshall agrees.
Giving up, I say, “Alright. I’ll head to the office and see what I can do about this.”
I swing into the saddle to ride back to the house, and I’ve almost convinced myself I’m not hella excited to see Aspen, but I still urge my horse to get a move on.
As I dismount, I let out a groan. Some days my body hurts like hell. I have chronic aches from what I went through at The Gentle Children’s Home, and I’m reminded again of how grateful I am for my adoptive parents, Gavin and Frances Richford.
They taught me that I was worth loving. Back when I was in the Home, one of the staff would often tell me how I wasn’t worth loving. I was eight and standing in line in the cafeteria for the slop they called food when he called out across the room, “You’re here boy because your mama’s a junkie who wanted the fix more than she wanted you and your daddy said you weren’t his problem. Now you’re a burden on the state and I’m gonna lock you up and everybody’s gonna forget about you.”
The other staff members laughed and one of them had clapped her hands and said, “That’s right, you’ll be forgotten forever.”
As a result of that, I would often chase after my brothers while yelling out, “Wait! Don’t forget about me.”
I shove aside the rest of the memories. No good comes from bogging my thoughts down in the mire of the past.
When I walk into the office, I breathe in the fresh, flowery scent of Aspen and my gut tightens. Her hair is slightly damp and flowing in waves around her shoulders. She’s so damn beautiful I could look at her for hours and never get tired of what I see.
I lean against the door for a second and enjoy the picture she makes as she stares at a laptop with her lower lip in her teeth. I lower my gaze to her neck where a thin gold chain swings just above the unbuttoned top of her blue dress shirt.
I noticed when she showed up this morning that the shirt makes her eyes look bluer. When she glances at me, my stomach clenches harder. One look from her and every ounce of my brain power channels to my cock.
I clear my throat. “I need you.”
“Take a cold shower,” she says as we fall into that flirty banter that I don’t know when it first started.
“Effective, but not nearly as enjoyable,” I say.
She lets her gaze travel down my body, and I hurry toward the desk, seeking something to block the front of my jeans.
“Probably not,” she admits, “but it won’t leave you with regrets.”
“Iwouldn’t have regrets.” I grin. “And I swear I wouldn’t leave you with any either.”
She’s silent, her gaze locked on mine.
The wall clock ticks loudly.
Aspen shakes her head. “Oh, cowboy, you’re a handful.”
“I’m not sure that’s a compliment.”
Her smile widens. “What can I help you with? Besidesthat, I mean.”
“If you change your mind, I’m happy to make good on my offer not to leave you with any regrets.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” She holds her hands out when I extend the tablet. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s been buggy all day. I think it might be the management software.”
“The battery is low. I’ll charge it while I check.” She moves to a cabinet against the wall, and I come around the desk to take her chair while I wait.
