Page 32 of Stand Your Ground

Checkity-check-check.

With one last deep breath, I plastered on my best relaxed smile and opened the door.

Livia stood on the other side like an award-winning photograph, everything about her so sexy and put-together, it almost seemed impossible to be real. Her hair was down tonight, straight and silky, falling like a glossy curtain over her shoulders and brushing the tops of her arms. A brown cowboy hat sat snug on her head, the brim casting the perfect shadow across her face and only adding to the drama of her entrance.

Her makeup was soft but striking — long lashes framed those sharp eyes, her skin was glowing with a golden warmth, and her lips shimmered with a nude gloss that made my gaze drop to her mouth instantly.

I knew she clocked that little slip when the edges of her lips quirked up.

She wore a sheer black dress that tied just beneath her chest, the fabric fluttering open to reveal the high-cut leopard shortsunderneath, and a statement belt that gleamed at her waist like a warning sign.

Or an invitation.

Chunky silver jewelry glinted at her wrist and collarbone, and the whole look was tied together with a pair of worn-in brown cowboy boots. She looked like the kind of trouble that shows up on your doorstep after you told her to stay away, unbothered and breathtaking, just to see if you’ll break and let her in.

And I just couldn’t help myself.

I whistled low as I leaned against the doorframe, letting my gaze rake down and back up again.

“Well butter my biscuits,” I said, shaking my head with a grin. “I didn’t realize it was country night, but you can ride me any time, cowgirl.”

Livia hit me with the slowest blink of all time.

Undeterred, I doubled down. “If I had a nickel for every time you’ve taken my breath away, I’d be able to buy the whole damn rodeo for you, sweetheart.”

I was pretty proud of the country accent I managed with that one, but Livia just pressed her lips together in a tight line, hand finding her hip as she cocked one eyebrow up.

Fine. Time to bring out the big guns.

“I’m pretty sure it’s outlaw behavior, looking that good in cowboy boots,” I said, lifting my hands like I was just the messenger. “And I’m afraid I’ll have to make a citizen’s arrest.”

That did it.

She fought it, her lips tightening as she tried to keep her poker face, but a laugh snuck through before she could stop it, her head dipping for a beat. When she looked back up at me, there was a smile pulling at her lips.

“You done?”

I pushed off the doorframe and gave a little shrug. “Honestly, I could go all night. But I think the plans you have in mind for us would be a lot more fun for all involved.”

Then I stepped aside, gesturing her in with all the cowboy charm I could muster.

“Come on in, cowgirl.”

It was impossible not to ogle that woman’s ass as she passed me, but I kept theyee-hawI wanted to holler out loud at the sight of it tucked securely between my teeth.

She set her oversized leather purse on the table just inside, taking a quick glance around my place with a look I couldn’t decipher before she turned to face me just as I closed the door behind us.

“In the spirit of our agreement, since you are a paying customer, I feel like I should take this opportunity to teach you that every single one of those lines made you seem eager and inexperienced.”

“Should I bend over for this lashing or?”

“Is thatreallyhow you act around other women, or is it only me who gets the unfortunate blunders?”

“I’m afraid my one-of-a-kind charm is a gift I must share with the world,” I said, pressing a hand to my chest. “But don’t be jealous, cowgirl. I save my best ones for you.”

“Clearly.” She sighed, but that smile was playing at the edge of her lips again. “You don’t have to try so hard. You don’t have to make it some cute, on-theme compliment. What a woman really wants is to get your guttural, instinctual reaction.”

“So, shedoeswant me to drool on her!” I snapped my fingers at the crate where Zamboni was patiently waiting for his release, his tail wagging, tongue flopped out of his mouth. “You were right, buddy. I owe you a bully stick.”