Roping the Daddy: A Contemporary Western Romance (Kester Ranch Cowboys Book 3)
Page 21
Yep. Just as he’d imagined. Warm and velvety and soft. And just a bit…amused?
He cleared the rustiness from his own throat and tried to settle the unfamiliar stirrings churning in his gut.
“I’m sorry about that. They usually reserve their herding skills for the cattle. I don’t know what came over them.” He shot a glare at the dogs, now behaving, sitting nicely at his feet, staring up at him with innocent expressions. Any other morning and they would have been racing to get to their food dishes by now.
“What? You mean you didn’t train them to do that?”
He gulped, not sure how to respond to the teasing glint coming from her eyes or the amusement in her clear voice, or how to douse the fire racing through his veins. Somehow, he managed to shake his head.
“I’m not sure what that says about me, especially since they’re girls.” She grimaced, looking just a tad embarrassed as she disentangled herself from his chest, her gaze stuck on his shoulders.
Thank heaven! The fire burning his skin cooled immediately. He sighed, a combination of regret and relief.
He slid one hand in his jeans pocket while the other raked through his hair. If he kept his hands busy, they couldn’t do something stupid like curl around her arms, just to verify that her skin was as smooth as it looked.
Kierra would get all over him if she saw him half-naked, chatting with a guest. He was the one who should be embarrassed, but for some reason, he couldn’t scrounge that up.
“Actually, they’re males. And, apparently, males with good taste.” He cocked his head to the side and regarded her, doing his best to ignore the ache of loneliness that welled up soul-deep and dismissing the crazy thought that she might be someone who could actually fill that hole.
“Males?” Her voice echoed disbelief. Her smile was gentle, faint, as her gaze jerked to the ground. Suddenly, she was crouching in front of his dogs, dangling that soft looking hand in front of their snouts.
Charity and Hope sniffed, but Charity licked the woman’s hand first. Then, both dogs practically shoved her backwards, vying for her attention.
He groaned, knowing he wasn’t far beyond that himself, and grabbed their collars, restraining them from mauling her while she petted them.
“The original owner was a preacher. He gave the whole litter names like that, and by the time we picked them up, they were already attached.” He’d never really given their unusual monikers too much consideration. They were working dogs, but suddenly, he regretted his decision to keep the somewhat feminine titles. “Not sure why the man couldn’t give them more masculine names like Brutus or Popeye or even Samson. That’s biblical, right?” He wagged his head in mock displeasure.
She chuckled, burying that cute little nose in Charity’s neck and then doing the same with Hope. “Oh, but they’re perfect, just the way they are, and so beautiful!”
So was she. He slid an appreciative gaze over her while she focused her attention on the dogs. Beautiful. Delusional. Unsuitable.
Stop! He needed to find the off button for the poetry bouncing around his head lately.
With a sigh, she stretched to her full height, the top of her head only reaching his nose, and stuck out a dainty, slender hand. “Darby Brewster.” Her dark head flicked toward the ranch house. “I’m here for…the retreat.”
Just as he’d suspected. Reality slapped him in the face again.
So she worked for an oil company, but at least she seemed down to earth, tangible and authentic. Unlike the last guy who’d shown up at the ranch, a corporate suit hiding behind a fake smile and toting a briefcase of forms that would never be signed.
His gaze skittered across the lawn. No briefcase.
Smiling, he slipped his giant paw over her delicate one, masking his shock at her firm grip by clearing his throat. “Fargo Kester. Welcome to Kester Ranch.”
“Fargo Kester.” The way she said his name sounded like a caress. “Now that’s a masculine name. It’s great to meet you, Fargo Kester.” A dimple came out of hiding when her lips curved in a smile, something sweet and genuine.
And totally dangerous to his heart.
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About the Author
Tori Kayson writes sweet romance that sizzles! When she finally rolls back from the keyboard, you’ll find her hunched over a kindle, hanging out with family, or sipping coffee on a mountain cabin deck. Tori shares her life with her real life hero and one very spoiled dog. Connect with her on Twitter, Facebook, and ToriKayson.com. Sign up for alerts of Tori’s new releases here. Or, if you’re a kindle reader, click the gold “Follow” button under Tori’s Amazon photo for lightning-fast news of her latest books!