Page 5 of A Cowboy's Twinkling Lights Lasso
Of course, I don’t say any of this, and I feel my sister’s eyes burning on me.
“I don’t recall—”
“You recall.” His assertiveness has me instantly damp between the legs.
I recall every last detail. It didn’t matter that I’d had a couple of drinks that night. It didn’t matter that I was tipsy. Every previous touch, lick, and thrust is embedded in my head. They say your first time is never good, never right, and never leaves a lasting impression. Well, it hadn’t been this cowboy’s first time, and he left a helluva impression on me.
I shake my head. “No. Doesn’t ring a bell.”
“Climbing over the principal’s fence to drink and skinny dip in his pool doesn’t ring a bell?”
“Wait, Flora, you were part of that?” Dani doesn’t sound convinced.
I shake my head.
“Bolting when principal McCoy shouted out the window?” Thorn’s deep brown eyes darken, and I’ll bet he’s remembering his hands on my wet ass cheeks as he hoisted me over the fence.
“I’m having a hard time envisioning my sister partaking in this.” Dani crosses her arms.
“Because I didn’t partake in it.” Not intentionally, anyway.
“I very clearly recall splitting from the group and hiding from the sheriff at the old Underwood schoolhouse.” His voice is more profound than I remember. Like smooth whiskey.
“And the sheriff didn’t do a quick scan through the house?” My sister puckers her lips. “Sounds unlikely.”
“He did. He checked every floor, except the secret attic, through the bedroom closet. The secret cozy attic where—”
“Okay, stop!” I raise my hands before he straight up tells my sister we knocked boots. “I do recall a drunken evening where I broke a few laws and did hide from the sheriff.”
My sister gasps again. “You broke the law?”
“Yes. One time.”
Thorn smirks. “I seem to recall you doing a lot of firsts that night.”
I inhale deeply and am grateful when the door opens on our floor.
The hum of excitement surges into our confined space. I can’t get out of the elevator fast enough. I practically trip over my own feet, squeezing by Thorn—and yes, my front brushes against his solid, rock-hard body. Some things definitely get better with age. My tingling nipples agree.
“I was going to marry this girl,” he says to my sister.
I spin around and catch her mouth gaping open. “Pardon me?” she shrieks.
“He wasn’t going to marry me.”
“She stole my heart and then ditched town.”
My sister’s eyes widen in question, silently demanding so much more.
“I did not steal his heart.”
“Well, I think this is the perfect weekend to steal yours.” Thorn strides past me with a wink that gives me all the feels: pulse-quickening, smoldering heat building inside me.
“I like him.” My sister nudges my side before following behind him like a little puppy.
That’s because she doesn’t know him like I do. I liked him too—a lot. But it was all a lie. He’s a liar.
Ughhh.
