Page 7 of My Cowboy Trouble (The Cowboy Romantic Comedies #1)

"Brought y'all some lemonade!" she hollers out her window before she's even fully stopped. She's driving one-handed, the other holding a pitcher that's sloshing dangerously. "Nothing like cold lemonade on a hot day! Made it myself this morning!"

She parks at an angle that blocks our truck in, then climbs out with surprising agility for someone her age. She's wearing a purple tracksuit that should be illegal in Montana and earrings that could probably be seen from space.

She pours three glasses, then plants herself on the tailgate like she's settling in for a show. The truck dips under her weight.

"So, Kenzie honey, how you holding up? Heard you had a little incident with Whiskey's stall this morning."

"News travels fast."

"Honey, I knew about it before you'd even changed your socks. Billy posted about it on that Instagram thing. Even got video of you stepping in it." Clara Mae cackles, pulling out her phone. "You're what the kids call 'viral.'"

Kenzie groans. "Billy's on Instagram?"

"Oh yeah. He's got a whole fan page dedicated to the ranch.

'Life at the Dusty Spur' or some such. You're the star of today's stories.

" Clara Mae squints at her phone screen, holding it at arm's length.

"Look, forty-seven likes already! And someone commented with those crying-laughing faces. That means it's funny."

"Shoot me now."

"Now, now. Any publicity is good publicity." Clara Mae winks at me. "Isn't that right, Asher? You're the business mind around here."

"I typically prefer publicity that doesn't involve standing in horse shit."

"Boring." Clara Mae turns her attention back to Kenzie, and I can see the gleam in her eye that means trouble. "You know, Asher here's quite the catch. Got a head for numbers and hands for... well, other things."

"Clara Mae," I warn.

"What? I'm just saying. Girl needs to know her options." She pats Kenzie's knee with one gnarled hand. "All three of them boys are options, if you know what I mean."

Kenzie goes red from her chest to her hairline. "I don't think?—"

"’Course, they come as a package deal mostly. Where one goes, the others follow. Been that way since they were teens." Clara Mae's grin is wicked. "Just something to think about during those long, lonely ranch nights. Gets cold here. Real cold. Nice to have options for keeping warm."

"Clara Mae, don't you have somewhere to be?" I ask.

"Nope. Cleared my whole afternoon 'cause my niece is watching the store. Figured I'd check on you two, see how the fence repair's going." She looks at the fence we've been working on. "Coming along nice. 'Course, that's not the fence that needs fixing most urgently."

"You know about that?"

"Honey, I know everything. Including the fact that section fifteen is about ready to fall over completely. But this one looks good too." She heaves herself off the tailgate. "Well, I'll leave you two to it. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"That doesn't rule out much," I mutter.

"Exactly!" She cackles all the way back to her truck, leaving the pitcher and glasses. She should have plenty to share back in town.

The fence looks good. Actually, it looks great.

Kenzie's managed to hammer in the last twenty nails without injury or property damage, and she's glowing with pride.

There's dirt on her cheek, her tank top is soaked with sweat, and her ponytail has gone from neat to something that looks like she's been through a wind tunnel.

She's never looked more gorgeous. Even though I've only known her a few days.

"I did it!" She steps back, admiring our handiwork with her hands on her hips. "I actually fixed a fence! Like, a real fence! That will hold actual cows! On a cow farm. "

"Cattle," I correct automatically. "And this is a ranch. Not a cow farm."

"Whatever. Large animals that moo. The point is, I fixed something!" She spins in a circle, arms out, laughing. "I am a fence-fixing goddess! Bow before my hammer skills!"

"You're something, all right." I lean against the truck, enjoying her excitement. The sun's starting to dip lower, casting everything in golden light that makes her skin glow. "You're a regular ranch hand now."

"Does this mean I get a raise?"

"You're not getting paid."

"Then I definitely deserve a raise." She takes a long drink from her water bottle, and I watch a drop of water escape, trailing down her throat and disappearing into her tank top.

"So what's next? Another section? I'm on a roll here.

I could fix fences all day. Point me at a fence, I'll fix the shit out of it. "

"Nope."

"No? But Trent said—" She stops, understanding dawning on her face like a sunrise. "This isn't the right fence."

"Oh, it needed fixing. Eventually. Just not as urgently as the one about half a mile that way." I point toward the other pasture, where section fifteen is indeed about to fall over.

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?"

"Think of it as practice. You're really good at it now. "

"Practice?" She unscrews her water bottle, eyes narrowing. "I'll show you practice."

The water hits me square in the chest, cold and shocking in the afternoon heat. She's grinning like a maniac, water bottle raised for another attack.

"Oh, you're gonna regret that, city girl."

"Yeah? What are you gonna do about it?" She dances backward, still armed and dangerous with her water bottle. "You gonna sweet-talk me into submission? Talk me to death with your smooth words?"

I push off from the truck, moving toward her slow and deliberate, like I'm approaching a spooked horse. "You really want to know?"

She backs up, but she's laughing, her eyes bright with challenge. "You wouldn't dare."

"Wouldn't I?"

"You're all talk, Asher Holt. All smooth words and no action."

"No action?" I'm close enough now that she has to tilt her head back to look at me. Close enough to see her pulse jumping in her throat like a trapped bird. "Darlin', you have no idea the kind of action I'm capable of."

"Prove it."

Two words. That's all it takes.

I move fast, grabbing the water bottle from her hand and dumping the rest over her head. She shrieks, water cascading down her face and soaking her tank top. The white fabric goes transparent, and I suddenly forget how to form words.

"You asshole!" She's laughing and cursing at the same time, shoving me with both hands. "That was ice cold!"

"You started it."

"I splashed you. You waterboarded me!"

"Dramatic much?"

She lunges for Clara Mae's pitcher of lemonade, but I catch her wrist, spinning her around until her back is against the fence we just fixed. We're both breathing hard, water dripping from her hair onto my arms where I'm bracing against the fence on either side of her.

"You'll pay for that," she says, but her voice has gone breathy.

"Later," I tell her, my voice dropping low. "When you least expect it."

"Promises, promises."

"I always keep my promises, darlin'."

We stand there, her back against the fence, me crowding into her space, the air between us charged with something that has nothing to do with the Montana heat and everything to do with the way she's looking at my mouth.

"We should get back," she says, but she doesn't move. Her eyes are still on my lips.

"We should."

Neither of us moves .

A horn honks, long and obnoxious, breaking the moment. Gavin's truck pulls up in a cloud of dust, and he leans out the window with that shit-eating grin that means he's about to be annoying.

"Well, well, well. Don't you two look cozy." He takes in Kenzie's soaked shirt and my wet chest. "Having a water fight without me? I'm hurt."

"It wasn't a fight," Kenzie says, ducking under my arm and heading for the truck. "It was a... disagreement."

"Looks like foreplay from where I'm sitting."

"Everything looks like foreplay to you," I tell him.

"That's because everything is foreplay if you do it right." He waggles his eyebrows. "Trent's looking for you two, by the way. Something about fixing the wrong fence? He's got that vein popping out on his forehead."

"The angry vein or the really angry vein?"

"The one that means someone's about to get their ass handed to them." Gavin's looking between us with way too much interest. "Also, dinner's ready. Unless you two would rather stay out here and... fix more fence. Or have more disagreements. Or whatever you're calling it."

Kenzie climbs into my truck, her wet clothes squelching against the seat. "We were just finishing up."

"I bet you were." Gavin gives me a look that says we'll be talking about this later. "Better hurry back. Trent's in a mood."

"When isn't he? "

"Fair point. But this is an extra-special mood. He found out someone taught the city girl to fix the wrong fence." He grins at me. "Wonder who would do something like that?"

As I drive us back to the ranch, Kenzie's quiet beside me, but I can see her fighting a smile. Her shirt is still damp, clinging in ways that are making it hard to focus on the road.

"What?" I ask when I catch her looking at me.

"Nothing. Just... Clara Mae was right about one thing."

"What's that?"

She looks over at me, eyes sparkling with mischief and something else. Something that makes my chest tight. "You do have good hands. For fence repair, I mean."

"Just fence repair?"

"I'll let you know."

I glance over at her, this city girl with hay in her hair and dirt under her nails, who paid twelve dollars for fancy lettuce and fixed the wrong fence with enthusiasm, and I realize I'm in trouble. Big trouble. The kind that doesn't go away when she leaves in twenty-six days.

"For what it's worth," I tell her as we pull up to the ranch, "you're a natural at fence repair."

"Even if it was the wrong fence?"

"Especially because it was the wrong fence. Anyone can fix the right fence. It takes talent to fix the wrong one."

She laughs, climbing out of the truck. "You're so full of shit."

"Part of my charm."

"Is that what we're calling it?"

Trent's standing on the porch, arms crossed, that vein definitely popping. "Asher. Kenzie. Nice of you to join us."

"Trent," I say cheerfully. "Beautiful evening, isn't it?"

"Section fifteen is about to fall over."

"Is it? We should probably fix that."

"You fixed section twelve."

"Did we? Huh. Must have gotten confused."

Kenzie pipes up, "To be fair, section twelve looks amazing now."

Trent's jaw tightens. "That's not the point."

"No? Because I thought the point was to fix fences. And we fixed a fence. Actually, we fixed the shit out of that fence. You should see it. It's a thing of beauty."

I watch Trent fight a smile and lose. Just barely, just a twitch at the corner of his mouth, but it's there.

"Tomorrow," he says. "Section fifteen. And Asher? Try to remember which one that is."

"I'll do my best."

He disappears inside, and Kenzie turns to me. "Is he mad?"

"Nah. If he was really mad, he'd make you do it alone. With Billy supervising. "

"That's cruel and unusual punishment."

"That's ranch life, darlin'."

She heads for the house, pausing at the door. "Hey, Asher?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks. For today. For the fence and the... talking."

"Anytime."

She disappears inside, and I stand there in the dying light, wondering how someone I've known for three days can make me feel like I've been waiting for her my whole life.

Twenty-six more days. I'm either the luckiest son of a bitch in Montana, or I'm completely fucked.

Maybe both.