Page 2 of The Curvy Girl’s Lucky Cowboy (Cowboys Love Curvy Girls)
Chapter two
B o
“Need some help?” I offer the leprechaun with the insanely curvy body my hand. She’s struggling to get up here on the float.
“Huh?” She looks up. The tip of her giant hat sways from side to side and she adjusts her glasses. “Oh no. It’s you!” She flinches and turns away, muttering, “Crap, crap, crap,” and quickly climbs back down.
Did she just imply that she knows who I am and doesn’t want me anywhere near her? That would be a first. Most of the women in this town make me feel like I’m a raw piece of meat. Their mothers and grannies are constantly trying to set me up on blind dates.
The engine fires up and the flat bed rattles. “Hey,” I shout over the motor to the leprechaun. “We’re leaving. Let me help you up.”
Does she hear me? She tugs her hat down so the brim hits her shamrock sunglasses and they almost falloff. With her arms extended, she feels along the side of the vehicle, walking in the opposite direction to the driver’s side door.
What is she doing? Maybe she’s visually impaired? “Hey, you’re going the wrong way,” I call out. “Just follow the sound of my voice.”
Curvy leprechaun pauses and then retraces her steps back to me. “Take my hand.” I squat, extending both, because I’m not convinced she can see a damn thing.
Her hat wobbles as she gets up on the step stool and braces herself, apparently ready for another try.
“Grab my hands.” This time she takes hold of both and her delicate fingers disappear into my big paws.
Her skin is like velvet. I help her part of the way, but as she slides up past the tailgate, her dress flies up and the leprechaun lets go.
And I won’t lie. I wish I was behind her for the view.
Just that one peek made me feel more alive than I have in months.
In a heartbeat, mystery woman is up on the bed with me and the throng of others along for the ride.
The crush of the group presses her against me.
Instinctively, I wrap my arms around her to prevent her from losing her balance.
The scent of roses and fresh summer rain waft up from her hair?
Her hat? I peer down at her pouty lips, betting they taste as good as she smells.
Before I can give kissing her another thought, the curvy leprechaun breaks from my hold, and plows backwards into an older woman who was just taking her seat.
“Sorry, so sorry,” she apologizes to the woman, stumbling and keeping her voice low. “Thank you for helping.” She makes a full turn, scanning the parking lot and gripping the truck.
“My pleasure. I’m Bo, by the way.”
“Yep,” she mutters, sticking her hands out in front of her, feeling for something invisible.
With her path clear, she picks up her pace and heads to the cab area.
Is she sitting next to the mayor? “Thanks again,” she calls over her shoulder.
I wade through the sea of green to catch up, but she’s moving at a good clip now.
I yell over the engine’s rumble, “Aren’t you going to tell me your name?”
She must not hear me because she doesn’t stop. Curvy leprechaun can’t get away from me fast enough.
“Top of the mornin’ to you, everyone! Happy St. Patrick’s Day.” The jovial mayor’s voice blares through the bullhorn. “We’re about to begin. Now, don’t forget to hold on. Your job is to smile and wave. And you people up front, please throw the candy, gently . Let’s not bean anyone.”
The rig jolts and off we go. I recognize my clients in the crowd, grateful to be a member of this community, but I keep looking for that green bombshell. What’s hiding under that crazy costume?
I can’t remember the last time a woman had that kind of effect on me, and I don’t even know her name.