Page 42 of Welcome Home, Cowboy
“That’s a line from the movie, isn’t it?” he asked, leaning on the counter in front of her. It was as if her body was pulling him toward her, like a magnet, and he was definitely attracted.
“And it’s true. Friends make lousy lovers,” she said.
“Plus there’s the whole hate thing,” he said. “I don’t ever want you to hate me. Mel Harris is doing a fine job of that right about now.” His gaze rested on her smooth, pink kissable lips. “Us hating each other wouldn’t be good for Sabrina, either,” he said.
“And clearly you’re a heartbreaker.” She gestured to the bottle of wine from Stalker Mel, teasing him.
“You’re more likely to break my heart, darling.”
They were both leaning toward each other from opposite sides of the counter. The last thing on his mind right now was watching a war movie or a sappy chick flick. “So let’s pop the corn and dim the lights for the movies. What do you say?”
“Or we could, um…” Her eyes flicked to his mouth.
“What?” he asked, wanting her to suggest something entirely different. That was a fantasy, though, because no way was Julie going to say the things he wanted to hear.
“We could pop the cork on that wine,” she said. “Since your friend doesn’t seem to be coming back.”
“God, help me. I hope she doesn’t come back.” He laughed softly. “Would you like a glass of wine?”
She nodded. “That’d be great. And I’m not really in the mood for watching a movie quite yet.” Fire ignited behind her eyes. He knew enough about a woman to recognize that look. Or maybe he was projecting his own desire.
“I’m not in the mood for watching movies, either,” he said.
Chapter 12
What the hell was she thinking? She hadn’t even had any wine yet and here she was letting her hormones do the talking. Which was what she’d promised herself she wouldn’t do on the way here.
Lawson was looking at her and waiting for an answer to his question. He repeated it. “What are you in the mood for, Julie?”
Her skin burned. “I’m, um…” She subconsciously licked her lips. “I’m in the mood for yoga,” she said.
Yoga? I’m in the mood for yoga?
The skin between Lawson’s eyes pinched softly. “Yoga? You want wine and yoga?”
“Yes. I often have wine before yoga,” she lied.
“But you’re wearing jeans. You don’t do yoga in jeans.”
He had a point, but no way was she going to admit that she’d been suggesting they wear nothing instead and do a different kind of exercise. “That’s the great thing about yoga. You can do it anywhere, wearing pretty much anything.”
“Which is why you helped me buy a yoga wardrobe today.” Lawson smiled, a knowing look in his eyes.Crap.Did he know that she’d been thinking, in a brief moment of insanity, that they should pull aWhen Harry Met Sallyand turn friends to lovers? Why, oh, why had she picked that movie to bring?
“Okay,” he said. “Wine first and then yoga.”
She nodded. She was going to need some wine to get through this night.
Two glasses later, and feeling much more relaxed, she led Lawson through the core poses she’d been teaching at the Veterans’ Center over the last couple of weeks.
“You’re right. It’s not easy to do yoga in jeans,” she said, wobbling as she did the Downward-Facing Dog pose—the one she’d been doing when he’d walked in on her interview with Allison a few weeks earlier. A lot had changed between them since then. She wobbled again, then her whole body electrified as two hands steadied her waist. Just like that rainy day.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Keeping you from falling on your butt.”
“I’m a yoga professional. I don’t fall.” Except she was falling, hard and fast, for this cowboy behind her.
“Even when you’re drunk?” he asked.
