Page 42 of Rocky Mountain Home

The now stone-faced receptionist nodded then pointed toward the chairs. “I’ll get the rest of your contact information in a moment, Mr. Coleman. If you’ll take a seat.”

Jesse strategically dropped into the second chair from the end. He stared straight at the door and ignored the speculative glances visible in his peripheral vision, rising to his feet when Dare finally joined him.

She glanced at the counter, but the receptionist was disappearing around the corner into the back rooms, called by a low-toned buzzer.

Jesse sat her in the corner seat then twisted his body to guard her from the peering eyes best he could. “You good?”

“Peachy.” Her gaze darted past his shoulder, and her lips twisted before she eased back to meet his eyes. “Do you plan on looming over me the entire time we’re here?”

“Pretty much. You know anyone?” He indicated behind him with a head flick.

“Yup.” Dare rubbed her temples for a second. “Maybe they’ll think I’ve got the flu.”

He wouldn’t mention his earlier announcement yet. “You want me to wait out here when they call you in?”

Dare frowned. “Why the hell did you drive out if—”

He laid a finger over her lips. “Shhh, darling. Inside voice.”

A glare scalded him before she batted her lashes and linked her fingers together. “But my sweetheart of sweethearts, you must hold my hand.”

“Now I’m the one who feels nauseated.”

Dare wasn’t even listening. She fidgeted on the spot, a mass of nerves. She finally stopped bouncing in her chair enough to reach past him to the pile of magazines.

Jesse caught her wrist. “Nope. You’re not touching those things.”

“You’re kidding me.” Her face folded into a frown, but fortunately whatever rampage she was about to go on was cut short by the nursing attendant calling her name.

Jesse rose with her, and the nurse looked puzzled for a moment before her face lit with understanding. “Oh, you can stay there. I’m just weighing her.”

Dare pointed a finger at Jesse and back at the seat. “Sit.”

He grinned. “I already know how much you weigh.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Stay.”

An idea popped into his head that was too good to resist. Besides, from the looks of things, she needed the distraction. Jesse pulled out his wallet and found a piece of scrap paper before settling in place, jotting down a number and leaving the folded note on her seat. He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, eyes closed.

She was back in under thirty seconds.

He waited.

Something bumped softly into his biceps, and he peeked one eye open to discover Dare’s face inches away.

She fluttered the paper scrap. “Ha, ha. Funny man. How’d you do that?”

“Was I right?”

Dare narrowed her gaze. “Plus or minus five pounds. Do you have a side gig at the Stampede fairgrounds guessing people’s weights?”

“Nope, but I’ve picked you up more than once.” He let his grin widen as he thought back to one of those times, holding her against the wall as they screwed themselves silly.

His dirty thoughts must have shown because her cheeks darkened. “Stop it. Answer the question.”

“I did. I picked you up. I pick up animals all the time, and it’s easy to estimate weight after you’ve—”

He stopped. Maybe continuing with —after you’ve hauled a few heifers around wasn’t the right thing to say to a woman he hoped to get into bed with again in the near future.