Free One Fine Cowboy by Joanne Kennedy Page A

hadn’t caught his thoughts then. Or noticed the growing bulge pressing at the fly of his jeans. He breathed a sigh of relief and let his eyes meet hers.
    The same connection he’d felt in the barn zinged back into being, stretching between them, pulling them together. Charlie’s eyes widened in surprise. She looked away, but then her eyes flicked back to his, as if she couldn’t help herself, and now he felt like he was looking into her soul, into her heart, past the brittle façade she presented to the world to a softer version of Charlie hidden behind it. The flickering lights around the edge of his vision intensified, giving her a shimmering halo, and he closed his eyes and gave in to the inexplicable force that was drawing them together.
    When their lips touched, the pull intensified. It was instantaneous, thrumming like a lariat stretched taut in the moment where the roped calf balks and the horse backs, pulling the rope tight—but when he went to haul her in, deepening the kiss, she slipped the noose and pulled away.

Chapter 10
    He couldn’t say how long the kiss had lasted. Had it been seconds? Minutes? Maybe hours? It wasn’t duration that mattered; it was the intensity of it, the feeling he’d given in to a fixed, unalterable destiny that had been waiting for him all his life. The feeling was almost overwhelming—overwhelmingly good —but when he opened his eyes, the look on Charlie’s face said otherwise. Her expression was easy to read:
    Sheer, stark terror.
    “Oh shit,” she said.
    It wasn’t quite the response he’d hoped for, but it was pure Charlie. He couldn’t help smiling.
    “I love it when you talk dirty,” he said.
    “No, really.” She jerked to her feet, pacing the room and swishing her hands together as if dusting flour from her palms. “That didn’t happen, okay? Didn’t happen.” She turned to face him, narrowing her eyes, and soft, sweet Charlie was gone, replaced by the Charlie she wanted the world to see.
    “It’s just been too long, I guess. Or something,” she said. “I just—I don’t know what I was thinking.”
    Well, good. If she didn’t know what she was thinking herself, maybe she hadn’t figured out what was going through his mind either.
    “But you can’t sleep,” she said. She was all business again, as if nothing had happened. “You can take a nap, but I’m waking you up in an hour.” She grabbed the remote and powered up the television. “You can use the bed if you want to.”
    “I’m fine right here.” No way could he sleep in the bedroom. Not after seeing her sprawled on his bed the night before. His dreams were randy enough without being fueled by that vision, and by the scent of her that no doubt lingered on the pillows.
    He pulled off his boots and dropped them to the floor, then set a throw pillow in Charlie’s lap and lay his head on it, bending his knees and pulling his stocking feet onto the sofa. He felt her stiffen and glanced up to see her staring down at him, her expression changing from confusion to anger to tenderness and back again. She settled on pissed off, which seemed to be her default expression.
    “Get off,” she said, jiggling her legs.
    “This way you can wake me up easier,” he said, closing his eyes. “’Night.”
    She might have responded, but if she did, he missed it. Exhaustion from the day’s events hit him like a knockout punch. He didn’t just fall asleep. It was more like he blacked out.
    ***
    Charlie braced herself, staring down at the man in her lap. He looked less hard-edged and masculine in sleep—more boyish. His hair was short and lay close to his head except for a stubborn cowlick at the crown. She lifted a hand to smooth it down, then stopped herself.
    No touching. Touching led to kissing, and God knew what that would lead to. Certainly not that “objective perspective” Sadie had cautioned her to maintain.
    In fact, she was feeling less and less objective about Nate Shawcross. She was