Free Cowboy Up by Vicki Lewis Thompson Page B

fastened the snaps, so his glorious chest was still fully visible when he hurried forward and the breeze caught and parted the material.
    “What happened?” He offered his hand to help her up the embankment.
    “Would you believe I was pushed by a moose?”
    “I thought I heard something crashing through the trees when I got out of the truck. You must have scared the hell out of him.”
    “Oh, yeah.” Emily found solid footing and paused to shove her dripping hair out of her eyes. “I had him on the run, no question.”
    Clay released her hand and stepped back to survey the damage. “I have a blanket in the truck.”
    “That would be nice.” A blanket sounded good right now, but it could lead to…several things. She decided not to think about the various options, for fear she’d become invested in one of those outcomes.
    Now that she was out of the water, her clammy clothes felt icky and cold. If Clay hadn’t been right there, she would have peeled them off, but she wasn’t supposed to be doing anything that could be construed as sexual. Removing clothes could easily be interpreted as an invitation.
    In truth, she wouldn’t mind making such an invitation, if only her conscience would check out for a while. She was shivery and he looked warm and cozy. More than that, she could tell by the gleam in his eyes that he still wanted her, and that was reassuring, considering that she must look like a bedraggled mess.
    He gazed at her a moment longer, and then glanced around. “Where are your boots and hat?”
    “Over by that log.” She pointed to the spot, but her wet jeans were so heavy she felt cemented to the ground.
    As if he understood that completely, he walked over and grabbed her stuff. “Hold these.”
    She took everything, and before she realized what he had in mind, he’d swept her dripping self up in his arms and moved off through the trees as if he carried women all the time. She felt silly being thrilled by such a macho gesture, but her romantic, little heart loved it.
    Still, she was a modern woman with modern sensibilities. “You don’t have to do this,” she said as he tromped through the underbrush, crushing leaves and twigs under his boots. “I can walk.”
    “No, you can’t. Going barefoot in the forest is a really bad idea, and your jeans are so wet you’d probably stain the leather of those top-of-the-line Ropers. I can’t stand to see a good pair of boots suffer.”
    She laughed. “So this has nothing to do with me and everything to do with my boots.”
    “Oh, I wouldn’t say that.”
    “Meaning?”
    “Meaning that once I get you to the truck, you’ll want to take off those wet clothes and wrap up in the blanket. I have a strong suspicion that somewhere in that process, we’re going to get very friendly.”
    Desire slammed into her with the force of a medicine ball in the gut. She glanced up at him, but all she could see was his very determined profile. “That’s not a good idea.”
    “Probably not, but there’s an air of inevitability about it. Besides, no one should go through life believing that an orgasm is no different than a sneeze. That’s just pitiful.”

7
    C LAY HAD APPROACHED THE CREEK with the best of intentions. Emily was absolutely right that any sexual move on his part would raise the stakes. In the afterglow of the amazing climax she’d given him, he hadn’t cared. But digging a fire pit and hauling rocks tended to steady a guy and help him face reality.
    In his case, facing reality meant staying away from Emily Sterling. Now that he had his degree and a great job, he was ripe for commitment, but his dream girl would love ranching and specifically love the Last Chance. Sarah Chance had already told Clay that he could have a little plot of ranch land whenever the domestic urge hit.
    He could see that day coming soon, although he hadn’t dated anyone since moving back to Jackson Hole. He might want to remedy that so that he wouldn’t be susceptible to a