Page 7 of A Cowboy's Twinkling Lights Lasso
Aunt Peggy-Ann jabs her elbow into my side. “Gratitude is right. Look at these incredible specimens.” She’s all but drooling at the dozen cowboys sprinkled between us.
“They’ve not only agreed to pose for the photo shoot, but they’ve offered their assistance building the stations for each month with the coordinating photographer.”
“Wasn’t that nice of them,” my aunt whispers. “I wonder what else they’re offering to do.”
Aunt Rita shoots us a look, and I wish we could shrink to the back, out of sight and hearing range. And I absolutely do not let my gaze wander around the room, avoiding eye contact with a certain cowboy.
After briefly discussing the event and the money raised for the local animal shelter, the mayor begins naming off the pairs. I requested the December photo, knowing my aunt Rita has access to the Christmas parade decorations and that a few historical pieces would create a rustic and memorable backdrop.
I listen to the names announced. Mainly, I listen for that certain sexy cowboy. The one who overheard a very private conversation between me and my sister not fifteen minutes ago. The one who thinks he has me pegged—the one who can bite my ass for being a lying condescending jerk.
The months pass, the photographers giggle, the cowboys grunt, and each skips Thorn. November came and passed, but there is still no Thorn. That’s when I realize Faye didn’t accidentally pick up that book.
“December is my talented niece, Flora Rowe, and she’s paired up with local ranch owner Thorn Slater.”
My eyes land on Thorn, and it’s at that moment that I wish I had never come back to Rocky Ridge Creek.
Chapter Two
THORN
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FLORA ROWE.
What is it about Flora Rowe that has permanently entrapped me in a way I don’t understand? What is it about her that still makes my blood boil after all these years? And what is it about me that she tries her damnedest to pretend not to feel the same way?
“They teamed you up with frame freak Flora?” My younger brother’s lack of subtly borderlines obnoxious.
“Don’t be an asshole.” Although I know the request is impossible. He may have been born an asshole, but I love him regardless.
“I didn’t make up the name.”
“If it comes out of your mouth, it makes you an asshole.”
He grunts. “I guess I’d be grumpy too if I were forced to endure the boringness of all that is frame freak Flora for an entire weekend.”
“I wasn’t forced, Theo.”
“You sure as hell didn’t pick her.”
“Didn’t I?” I nod at Faye and Wilma, walking briskly in our direction with a play of success on their faces.
My brother must see it, too, because the smart-ass look on his face is quickly replaced by shock. “You didn’t.”
“I did.”
He hunches closer to me, and the smell of his thick cologne chokes me. I prefer the natural scent of the great outdoors, not some designer scent to fake it.
“You enlisted the Quylt sisters to snag frame freak Flora?” His disgusted reaction is what I expected from him. Hence the reason I didn’t involve him in the process.
I tilt my head at him. “Call her that one more time.”
“Fucking hell.” Theo yanks off his hat and runs his fingers through his medium-length dark waves. “She must have a pussy of gold.”
I’d clock him in the jaw if we weren’t in a fancy resort. My fist will probably meet his jaw the second we’re alone—just a reminder to treat women with more respect than he used to.
Still, the teenager in me agrees with him—pussy of gold. There were a lot of things I discovered and loved about Flora when we were young, but touching her, kissing her, stripping her clothes off, and making love was at the forefront of my head ten minutes ago when her breasts rubbed against me in her hurried rush to leave.
