Free Just a Cowboy and His Baby (Spikes & Spurs) by Carolyn Brown Page A

of cowboys in her future. The glory of the Vegas win was a one-time shot.
    “I mean it!” she mumbled as she reached down and undid her belt. Then she sat up, undressed completely, padded to the tiny bathroom, took a quick shower, and washed her hair. She slipped into panties and a bra, a pair of jean shorts with frayed edges, sandals, and a yellow cotton top with spaghetti straps.
    She’d locked the door securely and was on her way to get inside her truck when she saw Trace bringing Sugar back from a walk. She’d never get used to seeing a big tough cowboy with a little bitty dog prancing along beside him.
    “Ready?” Trace asked.
    “Are you?”
    “Soon as I get in the truck. You go on first and I’ll follow you,” he said.
    She nodded and settled into the pickup seat, belted up, and started the engine.
    How could he act as if nothing had happened between them? It must be a man thing. Her insides were a pile of mush and her brain was barely functioning. She wanted to follow him back into the trailer and finish what they’d started with that kiss and be done with it. Maybe a good romp in the sheets would put an end to the fire.
    ***
    Trace settled Sugar on her pillow in the passenger’s seat of his black pickup truck, fired up the engine, and waited until he saw Gemma expertly back her trailer up and slowly pull away from the rodeo grounds. He fell in behind her and wished she was right there in the truck with him instead of looking at her license plate.
    “Damn woman, anyway!” he said to Sugar. “Her lips are even softer than I thought they’d be, and the way she fit into my arms was like she belonged there. But I can’t do it, Sugar. We can be friends and traveling buddies, but no more of those hot kisses. Besides, she might be trying to mess me up so she can have her glory ride and be the second woman to win the title. She’s got two strikes against her. She’s way out of my league and I could never trust her.”
    He was still arguing like a prosecution lawyer going after a guilty conviction when she signaled that she was getting off at the next exit. He was surprised to see that the whole morning had passed and it was lunchtime. He’d give her credit for one thing: she didn’t piddle around when it came to getting from one place to the next. They’d put in two hundred and fifty miles since they left the rodeo grounds.
    She was out of her vehicle and jogging toward the door before he could get Sugar’s leash snapped and take her to the doggy section of the truck parking area. By the time Sugar had sniffed every blade of grass and chased a grasshopper out from under a rock, Gemma was back.
    “Tell me what you want and I’ll order for both of us. We can eat while we drive.”
    “Slave driver.”
    “Yep, I am. Now give me your order. I only allow thirty minutes for eating and then it’s back on the road.”
    “You really are a slave driver,” he said.
    “Keep up or stay out of my way,” she teased.
    “I want two cheeseburgers with everything on them, a double order of fries, a chocolate shake, and a cup of coffee,” he said.
    She looked at her watch. “I’ll take care of the orders and then watch Sugar while you have a potty break.”
    “Bossy as hell, ain’t you?”
    “I prefer to think of it as highly acute organizational skills.”
    “That’s just fancy talk for bossy,” he argued.
    “Words are words. I’ll order and be right back.”
    He watched her trot back inside. She looked just as good in those cutoff shorts as she did in tight jeans. It was going to be a long, long five months.

Chapter 5
    The series of signs hung on the barbed wire fence like the old Burma Shave signs years before. Fruit Stand Ahead. Watermelon. Okra. Peaches. Squash. Tomatoes. Souvenirs. One mile. Don’t miss it. Exit now.
    Gemma slapped on the signal for the exit, slowed down, and checked the rearview to be sure Trace was aware that she was turning off. It was bigger than the roadside stands in Texas