Page 39 of A Rancher's Vow
Tucker would deal with the interview nonsense swiftly as well.
She marched across the yard toward the bunkhouse showers, whistling happily.
“Stay away from the working crew.”
The rough order pulled her to a stop. Frank Stone stood a few feet away, his favourite expression on his face. Had to be his favourite since the scowl was the only one she’d seen him wearing so far. “Excuse me?”
“I don’t need you getting hurt and my nephew blaming me, so stay away from the arena and the horses and anywhere else you might so much as stub your toes.” Frank dipped his chin and stomped away without giving her a chance to make a response, smart-ass or otherwise.
Maybe that was a good thing.
Charity stood right where she was for another moment, though. Took a deep breath and let it out slowly as she thought of the things she’d accomplished that day. Of the amazing show Dustin had put on for her—okay, he’d just been doing his job, but it was as if he’d done it specifically for her.
Good mood restored, she continued her way up and through the door he’d pointed to.
“Hey, Charity. Good to see you again.” Keith rubbed a towel over his hair while Lionel slipped his feet into boots.
“Looking for Dustin?” Lionel asked before gesturing to the pile in her arms. “Of course. He is a lucky man to have a woman who cares for him as if he’s a prince.”
“Or a woman who helps when he’s forgetful,” Charity offered dryly.
“That too.” Keith grinned. “He’s in there. Go right ahead.”
If she hadn’t been still slightly distracted by the small scene in the yard, maybe Charity would have clued in before she pushed through the door, and it closed with a solid click behind her.
She wasn’t in a locker room, but the actual shower room. Four basic walls with shower heads extended into the room. Steam rose from the one shower that was still running.
Under it stood Dustin in all his naked glory.
Her pulse shot to high.
Head tipped back, his hands scrubbed his hair. Water streamed over his head and chest, joining into thicker rivulets that fell past his hips and legs.
The faintest of tan on his forearms cut off abruptly mid-biceps. Arms flexing, his muscles bulged and lengthened in a hypnotic pattern. She couldn’t take her eyes off him. She should—
She absolutely shouldnotbe staring. Not at his muscular chest or the way his torso curved in toward lean hips. She shouldn’t be craving to touch the thick line of the V muscle framing either side of his groin.
He turned to fully face her. Charity clutched the clothes tighter to her chest and gave in fully to this temptation. She drank in the sight of his cock as it thrust forward from dark curls. Not hard, not flaccid, he was long and…
Damn it. Charity should have turned and left the instant she’d realized where she was, but this show only made it that much clearer that she wanted the man desperately.
Fake dating for a good reason should still come with some perks, yes? For both of them? And getting her hands on that ass—the perfect ass that he had turned and presented her direction—was on her absolutely must do list.
Enough. Charity didn’t wait for him to accidentally discover her ogling-self in the room. “Dustin.”
He straightened and peeked over his shoulder. “Oh. That’s some delivery service.”
He turned off the water. Paused.
Again, she should have turned her back, but she couldn’t. Didn’t want to. Didn’t want to hide how much she appreciated looking at him. But first things first. “I’m sorry. I should have let you know I was here sooner.”
Dustin nodded as he turned, gaze fixed on her face. “Thanks. But it’s okay. If you don’t mind, I don’t mind.”
That was clear, because even as he walked toward her, his cock rose like the sun on a spring day. Eager and bold and very invigorating.
Charity hummed happily. “You’re gorgeous.”
“From the eye contact, I assume you’re talking to my cock.”
