Free Runaway Cowboy by T. J. Kline Page A

no interest in sharing why he’d left, and she wasn’t willing to forgive him until he was honest with her. Maybe he’d get bored if she ignored him and leave her alone. Wasn’t that what he did best?
    The warmth that circled south of her belt buckle surprised her. No, there were other things he did far better. Jennifer stared at Clay’s hands as he slid them over the mare’s neck, dismounting and walking her toward the tree line. Jen couldn’t help but remember the way those hands . . . She yanked the reins on her wandering imagination and walked Gunner back to the trees as well, looping his rope over a low branch with enough length for him to graze on the spring grass. She went back to the edge of the water, returning to her log, and picked up a handful of pebbles, toying with them as Clay approached.
    The way he acted like he belonged here irritated her, as if he hadn’t been gone for the last five years. But at one time he did belong, knew the property as well as she and her brothers did, maybe even better. Now, it just felt like he was a traitor.
    â€œYou okay?” he asked. She glanced back at him as he tied his mare near Gunner and headed toward her, stopping before he reached her, as if she were a flight risk and he didn’t want to get close enough to frighten her.
    She wasn’t the one who had run away.
    â€œFine, why?” The nonchalance she’d been trying for wasn’t what she heard in the sharp note of her voice.
    Clay shrugged and sat down on the other end of the log. It wasn’t wide, but it felt like miles separated them instead of less than a foot. “You only come here when you’re upset.” He gave her a sideways glance, a grin pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Unlike your brothers.”
    She knew he was trying to break the tension between them, but it was hard for her to just turn off the storm brewing inside. She shook her head and looked across the lake, avoiding the deep emerald of his eyes.
    â€œWhat did they call it?” He chuckled.
    â€œMake-Out Lake.”
    â€œThey always did have a way with the ladies.” Clay rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Who named it that anyway?”
    â€œKnowing those two, your guess is as good as mine. Could have been either one.” She felt a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Why was it so easy to fall back into companionable conversation with him? Why couldn’t she stay angry and bitter? She watched him search the ground and wondered what he was doing until he got up and picked up a flat rock, jostling it in his hand.
    â€œYou’d better not start anything you can’t finish.”
    Clay turned to face her, his eyes growing hot and dark, and she felt the heat rise to her cheeks as she realized how he could misconstrue her comment. She tried to recover quickly. “You know I can skip a rock three times as far as you can.”
    â€œHow do you know I haven’t been practicing?” he asked, playfully challenging her, a dimple creasing his cheek.
    Jen arched a brow. Challenge accepted.
    He knew her well enough to know that she would never let him make a claim he couldn’t back up. “Let’s see what you’ve got, big shot.” She dropped the pebbles from her hand and rose from the log, searching the bank for a few perfect skipping rocks.
    Clay laughed, flicking his wrist and casting a rock over the water’s surface. One . . . two . . . three . . . four. On his first one? His smile widened and his eyes filled with laughter. Jen’s heart thudded almost painfully in her chest and her breath caught. Man, she’d really missed that smile. Did he have any clue how sexy he really was?
    She bit her lip. “Do I have to go three times the distance or just farther?”
    â€œWe probably should have laid the ground rules before I threw. Let’s say the winner is whoever gets the most skips.” He reached for another