Page 31 of Catch Me, Cowboy
Once she had some space between them so her brain could continue its journey back to normality, she pulled in a breath—very, very slowly, so it didn’t shake in the same way her knees were shaking.
“Good point,” she murmured, amazed she could get the words out in such a natural tone. And since nothing wildly brilliant occurred to her, she simply said, “I’ve got to go.”
“You mean run away from reality?”
She flashed a hot look at him. “How are we to deal with this reality, Ty? By falling into bed?”
“We’d like to.” He pointed out.
“Noduh.” And somehow the less than articulate acknowledgement helped her find the strength to draw herself up and attempt to set some boundaries. “But that won’t be good for me. Therefore, we will not fall into bed.” She took a step closer in an attempt to show both of them she had this, pointing her finger at his chest. “Things between us will be just as they were before we kissed. No—they’ll be better, because the tension’s been broken. That means we can be… normal.”
“Whatever that is.”
“We work together and that’s it.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Her lip curled. “Do not mock me.”
“Shelby… the last thing I want to do to you is mock.”
Again that breathing problem. She took another step back. Then another. Then she turned and stalked up to the house and let herself in the side door so she had time to recover before strolling into the living room and pretending nothing was amiss.
So now what?
Shelby paced through the kitchen—quietly so she didn’t disturb her grandfather—angry at herself for allowing her body to call the shots instead of listening to her head.
Who was she kidding? Her head had been fully in favor of ripping Ty’s clothes off and getting what she’d been missing for so long. If he hadn’t pulled back when he did…
Shelby pressed the backs of her fingers to her mouth. Just a kiss. No clothing ripping. Just… a kiss.
But clothes-ripping had not been too far off.
She stopped at the window, pulled back the curtain far enough to see the lights of Ty’s trailer were now on. Damn it, she still wanted to rip his clothes off.
Shelby dropped the curtain and opened the fridge to pull out a beer. Why couldn’t anything go according to plan with this man?
Chapter Eight
Gramps was upbefore Shelby the next morning and when she walked into the kitchen, he gave her a look that made her wonder if he’d seen her and Ty kissing. It wouldn’t have been difficult—they’d been under the yard light near the corrals, in full view of the house. She’d simply assumed Gramps had been watching television as usual, and not looking out the window.
“Coffee?” he asked as she went to the fridge to get out the eggs.
“Thanks.”
Gramps got up from the table, then made a grab for the back of his chair to steady himself. Shelby opened her mouth to ask if he was all right, but he gave her a warning look. “Don’t.”
As if she would let this slide. “Did you almost fall over just now?”
“I got up too fast.”
“That’s what you told Ty the other day.”
“You guys are comparing notes… among other things?”
So he had seen. “The other things are my business.”
“And my health is mine.”
