Free Cowboy Crazy by Joanne Kennedy

so selfish, if she hadn’t thought it was so important to primp and preen for some boy she barely knew. Roy was dead. It was her fault. And the next day somebody from the sale barn hitched the trailer to a growling diesel pickup and took Flash away for the last time.
    Flash had sold for two thousand dollars—a tenth of his value. And no wonder: the last thing he’d done was kill a man. It didn’t help that the various stories Sarah had told Brian Humboldt about how hard he was to handle had made their way around the small world of horse traders.
    Everything Roy had brought into their life was gone, swept away by his death and her foolishness. Everything he’d worked for was gone.
    All because Sarah couldn’t work up the courage to ride a horse.

Chapter 8
    Scanning the scattered lights from horse trailers and RVs decorating the rodeo grounds, Sarah let the hum of engines and the buzz of generators chase the memories out of her mind. Somehow, she needed to change the subject and get Lane talking about something other than horses.
    “You know what would be good right now? A turkey leg. And maybe some ribs.” She wasn’t the least bit hungry, but it would provide a distraction.
    “A woman who eats real food. I like that.” He stopped and touched her shoulder, and she felt the mood between them shift. She should have kept walking, pretended she didn’t notice, but something in his tone made her stop and turn toward him. He wrapped his hands around her biceps and ran them down to her arms, leaving a shimmering trail of sensation in his wake.
    “I like you ,” he murmured, taking her hands.
    She stiffened, trying not to react to the scent of him, the warm awareness of his body inches from hers. “Come on, Lane, stop. You’re not my type and I’m not yours.”
    He scanned her face, his eyes probing hers. “I’m not so sure of that. You’re pretty spunky once you get out of that straitlaced suit.”
    She pulled her hands away, wondering just what he’d meant by that comment, and was surprised to see he was flushing a little. The double entendre must have been unintentional.
    “Sorry,” he said. “But you were right—testosterone runs high around here. Girl dressed like you might as well be running a gauntlet.”
    “Dressed like me?” She was suddenly conscious of the way her old jeans clung to her flesh. Maybe it wasn’t that the cowboys were overloaded with testosterone. Maybe she just looked like a woman who was willing to help them work some off.
    He glanced down at the jeans, then caught himself and returned his gaze to her face.
    “Didn’t mean it that way. You just—you look good, that’s all. Really good.”
    ***
    Lane could have kicked himself for being so clumsy. Sarah looked great in her jeans and T-shirt. There were plenty of buckle bunnies prancing around like prize ponies for sale, dressed in slutty midriff-baring tops and jeans so low you could see butt cleavage. Compared to them, Sarah was a thoroughbred.
    But she wasn’t the tight-assed professional type his brother usually hired. She was funny, smart, and sassy. She’d joined in on the banter with Doc Myrna like she’d known her all her life.
    He was attracted to her—and not just to her body, though that was damn near enough. Unlike most women, she could carry on a conversation and he actually enjoyed being with her.
    Too bad it was all about Carrigan. She wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for business.
    They’d strolled into the shadow of a shuttered concession stand, and the faint light glinted on her cheekbones and the delicate curve of her shoulders.
    Damn, that filmy, silky shirt was pretty. He didn’t usually notice a woman’s clothes, but the pastel peachy color brought out the delicacy of her complexion, and the fabric skimmed over her skin so smoothly he could make out the lacy borders of her bra. He wondered what it would feel like if he took a slip of the cloth between his fingers. It was so finely woven it would