Free Rocky Mountain Rebel by Vivian Arend

tug she gave sent the wood flying so hard Joel rushed to catch it.
    “Shit, sorry. You got that thing well lubricated.”
    Oh. My. God.
    Okay, all the dirty images from the past night had to come rushing in right then, didn’t they? It seemed she was not going to be able to win this contest and get anything done the easy way.
    Only when she risked a peek upward, he wasn’t leering, just casually closing the doors.
    “It’s tough to keep them moving with all the dust around here, but my dad thinks it’s important, in case there’s ever a need to get the animals out quick. So we do regular maintenance on the glide system.”
    He wasn’t even joking. And when he guided her toward the man door, his big hand placed against her lower back, Vicki had to make another mental adjustment.
    “You’re taking this seriously, aren’t you?” she asked. “This teaching me all about animals and ranching and shit?”
    Joel stopped a pace inside the building and nodded. “You have a good reason to want to learn, so we’ll do it right.”
    That’s when it struck her. She was inside a goddamn barn. There were horses in this place, and she was about to have to climb on the back of one.
    Her stomach clenched. “Oh, shit…”
    “You okay?” Joel leaned down and peered at her. “You’re this weird shade of green. Breakfast not agreeing with you?”
    “Didn’t eat anything,” she confessed. “I was afraid I’d lose it.”
    He swore. “It’s ten o’clock, and you haven’t eaten?”
    She wondered at the annoyance in his voice. It was just a meal. “Trust me, it’s not the first time I’ve gone without breakfast. I’ll live.”
    He examined her closer, top to bottom, and she tried not to wiggle. His examination wasn’t sexual, but damn if she didn’t want it to be. At least when his gaze was rolling over her, she could put hell horses on the backburner and ignore part of what she was there for.
    He finished his nonsexual, but still stimulating perusal by staring at her feet. He shook his head. “You don’t have any cowboy boots, do you?”
    She snorted. “Umm, no.”
    “Fine. Today you can wear these, but we’ll have to get you some real boots.”
    Right. She’d checked before. Not because of the horse thing, but because she liked how they looked. Too expensive for her pocketbook. “I’ll poke around.”
    Maybe there would be some used ones at the thrift store. Salvation Army or somewhere.
    That’s when she finally registered what he was holding out. “Rubber boots?”
    He twisted his feet forward to show off the pair he wore. “The finest bit of footwear on any ranch.”
    She eyed the black monstrosities suspiciously. “To ride a horse?”
    He shook his head. “You’re not riding today.”
    “Oh, thank God.”
    The words burst free about the time his laughter surrounded her, and he led her back to a bench, squatting to pull off her runners. He held the floppy tops of the rubber boots open. “Nope, you don’t have to worry about the big smelly beasts for today. So relax, and enjoy your lesson, okay?”
    Now she wished she’d eaten breakfast.
    It was more than a little distracting to have him kneeling in front of her. Another opportunity to have their heads at about the same height. He was this enormous mass of a man, and the stroke of his hand over her sole as he straightened her damn sock shouldn’t have felt so good. The way the back of his knuckles rubbed her calf as he held the boot steady and she pushed her foot in was downright sinful.
    She leaned forward on the second boot, her hand on his shoulder for balance, close enough his scent surrounded her.
    Wow. Putting on rubber boots with Joel Coleman was making her motor run. Was she pathetic or what?
    But stupid? She didn’t want to be that. So instead of kicking herself in the ass for being a little too fast off the starting gate with her hormones, she decided to enjoy it. He smelt good as she took a deep breath, the scent of soap fading, the