Rafe’s rules are simple—show up on time for lessons and do everything he tells her. Angie balks at authority, but soon riding lessons with the handsome hand are the least of her problems. She may lose her ranch anyway, and Rafe is the only person who can help her.
When Catie’s margarita came, she took a long drink. The salt around the rim stung her lips, chapped from the dry air on the plane.
Nothing like it.
She chugged the rest and stood up, her head a bit hazy. When had she last eaten? On the plane sometime.
“I want to dance,” she announced, and grabbed her handsome cowboy’s arm. “Come on, Chad.”
“Little bit,” Chad said, as she dragged him away, “are you sure you want to do this?”
“Sure I’m sure,” Catie said. “It’s just a dance.”
“You drank that ’rita awful fast, sugar.”
Sugar? She liked the sound of that. “A little tequila, a little Garth Brooks, a little dance with a handsome cowboy. Sounds like heaven.”
“Whatever you say, little bit.”
“Little bit?” She looked into his eyes, so dark they were nearly black. They seemed to smoke. “I like sugar better.”
“Okay,” he drawled. “Come on.” He snaked his arms around her waist. “Let’s cut the rug, sugar.”
The song wasn’t made for slow dancing, but the crowd on the dance floor necessitated closeness between them. Chad’s hard body crushed against her, and her pulse quickened.
“I’m glad you decided not to ignore me all night.”
“Yeah, you talking on and on with Amber, when it’s clear to a saint you and she have nothin’ at all in common.” He chuckled. “You sure have changed, little…I mean, sugar,” Chad said. “I hardly recognized you.”
“It’s been four years, Chad.”
“What happened to the little girl who loved horses more than people?”
“She’s still in here.”
“I admit, I sure was surprised you left your mare. You must have had a huge reason for leaving the country.”
“Oh, I did.”
“What was it?”
“Maybe I’ll tell you sometime,” she said coyly.
“Okay, sugar.” He chuckled. “I’ll hold you to that.”
The music changed from fast to slow, and she leaned into Chad’s muscles, closed her eyes, and inhaled. Leather. Leather and cinnamon. And Chad. Musky, male, perfect Chad. If anything, he’d become even more appealing in the four years she’d been gone.
They swayed gently to the music, their bodies melting together in all the right places. Catie slipped into a dreamworld, a world she hadn’t dared visit in the last four years. A world she’d thought she could forget.
No. She couldn’t forget. They might have only this one dance, but she’d make it worthwhile. She pulled away just a smidge and stared up into Chad’s face. She wanted only to look at him, to drink him in. But his dark eyes smoldered, and she read something in them. Something she couldn’t quite decipher.
“Sugar?” His voice cracked. Just a little, but she noticed.
He shook his head slightly. “Goddamn, sugar.”
He lowered his mouth to hers.
“I’ve found women find my foot in my mouth much more charming when they’ve had a drink.”
“’I get along with her fine, though I can tell my Jersey accent grates on her.’ Annie smiled and lifted one black eyebrow. ‘So I make sure to really emphasize it when I’m around her.’”
Handsome, rich, funny, well-endowed, and smart cowboys. Feisty, educated, and horny cowgirls. Smokin’ hot love scenes. Explosive combinations? What’s not to love? Ms. Hardt’s stories are entertaining, steamy, and easy to read. I have enjoyed all of the 4 stories I have read, and look forward to the next set of Bakersville Sagas.