Free Tatted Cowboy by Kasey Millstead Page A

smirk playing on his lips.  “Really, Leesa?” he asks, humorous disbelief in his tone.
    “Oh, be quiet.”  She slaps his arm gently and walks out of the room.  “These boxes won’t move themselves,” she calls.
    Dad and Gran follow her out, leaving Luke and me alone.  I glance around awkwardly before meeting his eyes.
    “Thank you for doing this.”
    “Don’t thank me yet. I haven’t done anything.” He smiles and throws me a wink.
    Why does he have to be so good looking?   A pair of faded blue jeans cover the bottom half of his body and he’s got a navy blue button-up shirt on top.  Its short sleeves cover the tattoos on his upper arms, but the rest are visible.  So hot.
    “Ready?” he asks, raising his eyebrows, as he catches me checking out his ink.
    “Uh, yeah. Let’s go.” I rush out of the room, my cheeks burning.  I need to act my fucking age, I must get that little trait from my mother!
     
    ***
     
    Lifting the box of kitchen stuff from the back of the truck, I groan, taking the full weight of it. Damn, this one is heavy. It’s marked fragile, so I’m careful not to drop it as I walk up the stairs and through house, depositing it on the floor in the kitchen.  I wipe the sweat from my forehead with my arm and take a deep breath.
    Gee, it heated up quickly today.
    My short denim shorts feel damp with sweat and there’re wet patches under my boobs on my tank top. I’m not game enough to look under my arms… My hair is matted to my head and all I want to do is go jump in a swimming pool to cool off.
    “Laura, you in here?” Dad calls.
    “In the kitchen,” I yell back.  I grab my water bottle off the sink and take a big mouthful.  So good.
    “We’re going to move the bed in now. Come and tell us where you want it positioned.”
    “‘Kay.”
    I follow him down the hall and wait at the front door while he walks over to the truck.  Luke comes from the side of the house to give Dad a hand and my mouth goes dry.
    After we’d been here for about an hour, he lost the shirt he had on, leaving him in a white wife beater.  But now, now the wife beater is half tucked in to the back pocket of his jeans, leaving him with nothing covering the bronzed wall of muscle that is his torso.  Beads of sweat glisten in the sun, making his skin shimmer. His muscles flex, each one clearly defined as he lifts one end of the heavy frame of my wooden bed.
    Walking backwards to me, my eyes are glued to his arse, hidden behind the snug fitting jeans hanging in that way from his hips.  So fucking sexy!
    “You might want to move, love.  The boys need to get through the doorway.  And, wipe the drool from your chin, dear,” Grans whispers in my ear as she shuffles past me, a burst of laughter escaping her lips.
    I quickly move to hold the door open as far as it will go and then follow behind them into the master room.
    They arrange my bed in the space where I want it and then leave the room so I can put the bedding on.
    First, I think I’ll put up the new curtains I bought.  Bending down, I grab the package from the corner where I placed it, and I hear a sharp intake of breath from behind.  Spinning around, I see Luke leaning up against the doorframe.  He looks me over, desire burning in his eyes.
    “You want some help?”
    “Sure,” I find myself saying.
    He saunters – yes, saunters – over to me and takes the package from my hand, tearing the plastic open. 
    “You take one end, I’ll take the other,” he informs me.  He starts walking over to my bed and I stifle back a laugh.
    “What’s so funny?”
    “They’re the curtains,” I say through a smile.
    He looks down at the fabric, as if just noticing it for the first time.  The white lace looks even brighter against the tanned skin of his hands.
    “You know what I think is funny?” he asks, stalking towards me.  I back up, matching him step for step until my back slams up against the wall.
    “What?” I ask, my eyes darting to the