Free Man Hungry by Sabrina York

Chapter One
     
    “You’ve got to save me.”
    Jessica blinked as the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen
slipped into her booth and grabbed her hand. She barely registered the
intrusion. His grasp was that warm.
    “I beg your pardon?” She lifted her voice above the blare of
the band. It was a country band and a country bar—not her preference but a girl
had to do what a girl had to do to meet a decent guy.
    “Please. You look like a compassionate soul.” His crooked
grin, ringed as it was by a scruffy beard, made rivulets of excitement trickle
down her spine, as did the tantalizing dent in his chin. His eyes, large and
brown and fringed with long, thick lashes, glinted with humor. A deep dimple
sliced through one cheek. His Stetson, from which dark curls erupted, was
tipped at a jaunty angle. He batted his lashes—a move that frankly should be
against the law. “Can’t you find it in your heart to save me?”
    His Dallas drawl made her mouth water—she’d always had a
thing for cowboys with dented chins—but she stiffened her spine against his
appeal.
    She did not need another puppy dog lover. She’d had enough
of those in her life. That’s why she was here. To meet her friend Penny’s
staid, stick-in-the-mud lawyer cousin. A guy she could have a future with. Who
liked country music. And country bars.
    He was probably a Republican.
    Good. She hoped he was.
    She hoped he was a grown-up as well.
    Nope. No more puppy dogs for her. She’d made an oath. And
she was bone-tired of cleaning up their messes on the carpet. Against her will,
her lips twitched. She did love those puppy dogs. And this one was damn cute.
    She cleared her throat. It was clogged with arousal. “Save
you from what?”
    Her cute cowboy slash puppy dog shot a look around the
crowded bar and hunkered lower like an outlaw hiding from the sheriff. “The
dreaded man-hungry spinster.”
    A laugh bubbled through her. As pickup lines went, at least
his was original. And entertaining. She lifted her beer to disguise her
amusement.
    “Oh. Sorry.” His gaze danced back to hers. “I meant to say
the dreaded man-hungry spinster schoolmarm .” He offered a charming,
self-effacing grin.
    Jessica stilled, bottle halfway to her mouth. She was
a spinster schoolmarm. Well, an unmarried teacher at least. Close enough.
    The cowboy leaned in. His warm breath skated across her
cheek. It was all she could do not to nestle right up against him. Melt, maybe.
“Just dance with me. Please? One dance before I have to resign myself to the
misery of a blind date?”
    Jessica’s belly lurched. “You’re meeting a blind date?”
    Oh. Crap. So was she. She was a spinster schoolmarm here to
meet a blind date.
    Oh. He couldn’t be Justin. Could he? She narrowed her focus
on his face, nearly distracted by the lazy droop of his lids, the full lips,
his scent as it wafted toward her every time he moved. He didn’t look like the
guy in the tux down the line from Penny in her wedding photo, the guy with the
short-cropped hair and formal posture.
    The stodgy lawyer.
    Her attention snagged on his jawline and a shiver raced
through her. She had a thing for a hard, square, dented chin. Yeah, his hair
was longer, he was definitely scruffy and he was dressed in a very unlawyerlike
long-sleeved t-shirt, jeans and cowboy boots. But she’d recognize that chin
anywhere.
    “Ho yeah.” He nodded and an unruly curl escaped onto his
forehead. “My cousin’s friend.” He sent her a pleading look. “Did I mention she’s
a schoolteacher?”
    Certainty stirred in her gut—along with the little demon of
mischief that lived there. He was Justin, her date .
    He just didn’t know it.
    Oh, this was going to be fun.
    “I believe you did mention she was a schoolteacher.” And a man-hungry one at that. “But if you’ve never met her, how do you know you won’t like her?”
    He sobered. Their gazes tangled. “I might like her. But not
as much as I like you.”
    Crap. That