Page 3 of My Cowboy Boss (Lucky River Cowboys #2)

Arizona

He’s everywhere. The big, grumpy cowboy aptly named Flint won’t stop watching me. I turn the corner and he’s there. I walk into the kitchen to get a cup of coffee, and he just happens to pop in too.

He stares at me wordlessly from the front porch when I arrive at the ranch every morning.

He did that today, his eyes half-lidded, leaning against the railing, looking like he could be the front cover model of one of the old westerns my dad liked to read.

If I can hang in there, soon everything will change. In five weeks, Aspen should be healed enough for us to switch places.

I want her to heal at her pace and don’t want her to rush to take over, but I have to admit that walking in my sister’s shoes isn’t as easy as I thought it would be. I also can’t believe I accidentally introduced myself by my real name instead of hers.

In the time I’ve been working at the ranch, between calls to my sister and hurriedly searching online, I’ve managed to wing the duties of this job. But not without a lot of knots in my stomach and cringing every time the office door whips open.

The blister on the back of my heel begins to throb again and with a groan of relief, I remove the shoes. As soon as I get back to the apartment, I plan to soak in a long bath and binge watch TV with Aspen.

I know that instead of collapsing onto the sofa and watching TV, I should spend my time at home writing to finish another chapter of my romance novel and get it up on the online platform where it earns a few bucks.

It’s my dream to earn a living with my writing and be able to take care of my sister financially the way she did for me.

But for now, I’m stuck trying to work out a love scene with the hero. I’m stuck because the image of him in my head is my boss’s face.

He’s not the friendliest guy but he’s got sexy nailed down like he took first place in that contest. Speaking of getting nailed, I’m reminded of the naughty dream I had about the two of us on this desk last night. Him buried deep in me while I clutch his back.

In my dream, his jaw was tense and he didn’t speak a word as he swept everything from the desk to the floor. Then he just took me, pushing into me hard and fast. I woke up wet and horny as hell.

I fan my heated face with a sheet of paper and glance at the wall clock, willing it to tick faster toward the end of my workday.

The door opens and Flint strides in. My heart thumps and my pulse kicks into high gear before I remind myself I’m in reality now and not my dream. That sucks.

His jaw is tight as he goes to pull back the curtains and open the windows. He always does that even if the air conditioning is running and it’s annoying.

He brushes his hands together his eyes piercing as he zeroes in on me.

“I need the cattle health records,” he says, taking off his hat and dropping the Stetson onto the edge of the desk.

I act like I know exactly where those are. Spoiler alert: I don’t . I click around in the ranch files, trying to quickly locate anything to do with the livestock.

I make a lot of hmm sounds and then murmur how I thought I saw it just the other day.

Flint huffs out a sigh and comes to stand behind me. He crowds me, leaning one arm on the back of the desk chair. The other, he reaches for the touchpad. His brows furrow and his lips draw tight.

I stare at them. He has nice lips. I noticed that when we first met. His arm brushes me when he taps the keyboard. “Maybe he didn’t input the latest information. Everything’s such a mess,” he says in his deep, sexy voice that whispered dirty things in my dream.

At the reminder, my nipples poke out like flowers yearning for sunlight, and I quickly cross my arms over the pale green dress shirt I pulled from my sister’s closet this morning.

He smells so good. Kind of like wood and earth. I discreetly look him over. Tight jeans. Mmm hmmm. Well-worn and taut in the places where it counts. I lean back in the chair to get a glimpse of that firm ass.

I’m not really an ass girl but he’s got one that’s sooo nice and firm…I lean back a little more and the chair starts to tip from the weight.

Letting out a squawk, arms flapping, I throw my body forward, pushing the chair away with the back of my legs at the same time.

And we collide.

I stagger because it feels like I rammed into a mountain.

This is not exactly how I imagined being in his arms, but I’m appreciating the heat from his body warming all my needy places.

His fingers grip my waist as he steadies me. Well, everything steadies except my heart which is galloping like a runaway horse.

“Great catch,” I say, grinning from embarrassment. I’m sure the color of my face probably matches the red of my sister’s borrowed lipstick.

His eyes flash.

Oh no.

Clearly, he’s annoyed. But he’s not taking his hands off me. If anything, his grip tightens, and I could swear he’s pulling me closer. Or maybe I’m swaying toward him.

I swallow hard, unable to look away from the turmoil in his eyes. The way he’s holding me and not letting go feels like it could complicate things.

He’s grumpy and aloof so I know he doesn’t like me but his cock sure as hell does with the way it’s pressing into me.

Flint

I’m attracted to her, and I don’t want to be. I shouldn’t be thinking the way I am. That it would slake a certain thirst in me that’s been growing since the first time I saw her.

I shouldn’t touch her. But damn, she feels so right beneath my fingertips. Her tits are almost against me, and I want that. Want it badly enough to consider taking a step forward and cramming her body against mine.

My brain goes to war with my body and like its got them written on a scroll, it unrolls all the reasons why this is a bad idea.

I get it. I shouldn’t feel anything at all. Emotions get in the way of survival.

Be cold as ice, Flint. Feel nothing. That mantra kept me alive.

I make the mistake of glancing down at her shirt.

She’s wearing a light green one that’s flimsy and girly with some sweet cleavage going on.

Her nipples harden under my gaze, standing at attention. I shouldn’t keep looking. But I do. And I fucking want to see more. I want to see her tits in the palms of my hands. I want to tug at the little buds in the center of them and have a taste. A lot of tastes.

The pull is too strong to fight. I thread my fingers through her hair. It flows down her shoulders, draping over my wrist. Soft and silky. I tug her head back and her eyes widen. Her lips part and she pulls the lower lip between her teeth.

Then she starts breathing fast and shallow like she’s sensing this might not be such a good idea.

Yeah, that’s right, Sugar. I shouldn’t do this. I’m your boss.

But fuck all the shoulds to hell and back. Those pouty lips look like they’re ripe for me.

“What…what are we…”

“Doing?” I fill in the word she’s searching for.

She tries to nod but can’t because I’m still holding her hair, keeping her head in place, on the brink, ready to take a taste of her.

I’m hesitating because I’ve been trying to convince myself this is lust and there’s nothing more to it. But a seed of shock takes root and starts growing because having her before me and holding her like this feels right.

Like she belongs with me. And worse. Like I belong with her. And I know firsthand how hearts are fragile organs. I know how they shatter and how wounds fill up all the empty spaces where they break.

I’m her boss, I tell myself again like if I repeat it enough then maybe I won’t make a move I can’t undo. I want her but I don’t trust her. Two reasons not to do this.

I summon the strength to step away and am surprised when she leans her hand on the desk, her body sagging against it.

“Did I frighten you?” I don’t want her to be scared. That would kill me. I don’t know where those thoughts came from. Or why she matters so damn much. I don’t know where that thought comes from either.

“No.” She straightens like she’s had a lifetime of making herself be strong and she flashes a smile though it’s forced.

“You don’t look okay.”

“I’m thinking about the cows.”

Oh. Well, not me sweetheart. When I almost kissed you, I didn’t even remember I was on this fucking planet much less a ranch. “Right. The health records.” I rake a hand through my hair, wishing I couldn’t smell her perfume or shampoo or whatever the hell it is on my skin.

“I found a pile of paperwork stuffed in the desk drawer and there’s also a box over there in front of the bookshelf.” She points in the general direction. “Maybe it’s in there.”

If that lowlife who screwed my family over even logged the information. I wouldn’t be surprised to discover he didn’t.

Arizona walks across the room on her bare feet. Her toenails are painted sparkly pink. She seems a lot younger than I imagined she would be. I make a mental note to ask Wilder about her resume since he’s the one chose it from the dozens that hit the ranch’s inbox after the job ad posted.

I guess in all the stress of trying to protect the ranch it slipped my mind to ask my brother about it.

She bends over in front of me with that shapely ass in prime position lining right up in front of my cock.

“Fuck me,” I mutter.

She looks over her should. “Did you just say you want to fuck me?”

The office door flings open, and I turn, quickly stepping sideways to cover the view of that ass. I don’t want one of the ranch hands seeing her.

“Mom? Dad? You’re back early.” I didn’t expect them until next week.

“We wrapped everything up and wanted to hit the road.” My mother peeks around me, her eyes lighting up with delight when she sees Arizona. “Wilder said you found someone.”

“She’s not my someone. She’s the new ranch manager.”

My mother’s smile borders on a smirk. “I never said she was yours.”

I don’t know why I misheard her. I clear my throat, thinking carefully about what I should say. My mother’s dream, one that she’s expressed often, and keeps trying to plan for us is that her boys settle down and give her grandkids to spoil.

Before I come up with something, Arizona approaches, coming to a stop at my side. She holds her hand out. “Hi, I’m Arizona.”

My mother grips her it like she’s found her future daughter-in-law and is already over the moon at the thought. “I want you to stay for dinner. I’ve got some casseroles in the freezer. It won’t take long to get one ready.”

Arizona begins to protest.

“We need to discuss the ranch,” my father adds with a decisive nod.

I could have said it was futile to protest. feel like I should have warned her. My folks make a great team. When one of them wants something, the other one will always jump in to support that want.

“Oh…um,” Arizona says, glancing up at me. Or was that at my lips?

I raise an eyebrow, and she flushes. Then I look at her lips.

My mother catches the interaction between the two of us and her smile widens.

Shit. I need to nip this in the bud before I’m working on that grandbaby plan.