Bad News Cowboy. Maisey YatesЧитать онлайн книгу.
of her, covering her face with both her hands. Seducing Jack. She’d never even thought of seducing a man before. Much less this man. The idea filled her with a strange kind of tingly horror and an excitement that mixed together so well she couldn’t sort out which one was which.
She supposed at this point it was all the same, really. The fear of the unknown, the fear of a missed opportunity.
But one had far fewer consequences, that was for sure. Because Jack was a person she had to deal with on a fairly regular basis. Of course, the problem with living in a small town was that any guy she chose to get involved with would be someone she had to deal with on a regular basis.
She was not in the market for relationship. She wanted to go pro with her barrel racing and that would mean traveling all over the place, which would not leave any time for a guy. Which, provided things wouldn’t get all weird after, actually made Jack the best bet of all. Because he wouldn’t want anything more, and neither did she. Because she knew him, knew he wasn’t, like, a secret ax murderer or anything. And because she trusted him.
That all had to count for something.
She pointed the hose at a little azalea that was placed in a pot on the ground. She was so focused on that, and on her seduction thoughts, that she didn’t realize she had company until said company spoke.
“If you keep making that face, it will get stuck that way.”
She jumped and splashed water on her hands with the hose, looking up to see Jack standing there grinning at her. “You scared the piss out of me!”
He made a face. “So that’s not all just from the hose?”
She looked down and saw she’d misdirected the stream and that the water was puddling at her feet. She scowled and directed it at the plants again. Her face was hot, embarrassment over her choice of words lashing her. Which was stupid, because she shouldn’t be embarrassed to say the normal things she always said in front of Jack. Seduction plans or no.
“What are you doing here?”
“You have two strikes against you already, Katie bear,” he said, dodging the question.
“How did I get strikes? I’m not playing baseball. I’m watering azaleas.”
“In the flirting game, little missy.”
She decided to ignore the fact that he’d called her little missy. “Is it three strikes in flirting, too?”
“No idea.”
“You’re supposed to be the expert.”
A slow grin spread over his face, the expression positively wicked. “I don’t know, because I’ve never struck out before.” She felt the heat in her face intensify, spread over her cheeks. “I made you blush. So I’m doing something right.”
“You’re not supposed to be practicing on me. I’m supposed to be practicing on you,” she said, irritated that she was so transparent.
“You might want to turn your hose off.”
She scowled and turned around, twisting the faucet handle then discarding the hose. “There. Off.”
“Lesson one—don’t look at the object of your affection like you want to stretch his scrotum out and wrap it around his neck.”
“But what if that’s what I want to do?” she asked, keeping her face purposefully blank.
“I didn’t realize you were kinky,” he said, arching a brow.
She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from reacting. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Jack.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yeah, really. I’m a complex woman and shit.”
“Of course you are.” His blue eyes glittered with humor, and anger twisted her stomach. He still wasn’t taking her seriously. Still looking at her as if she was a little girl playing dress-up.
She’d never played dress-up in her damn life. Her mother had left when she was a baby, taking every frill, every pair of high heels, every string of pearls with her. And Kate had seen two things in her household. She had seen her father sit on the couch and waste away, and she had seen Eli and Connor get out every day and bust their butts to make a better life for her, for themselves.
So she’d worked. From the moment she’d been able to. And none of it had been a game.
If Jack thought this would be any different, then he hadn’t been paying attention.
“Somehow I don’t think you believe me,” she said, keeping her eyes locked with his.
“Sure I do.” He reached toward her, and her heart stuttered. Then he grabbed ahold of the end of her braid and tugged lightly, in that patronizing, brotherly way that he did.
And that was the end of her rope.
Kate was the kind of girl who rode harder and faster whenever there was a challenge placed in front of her. And this was no different.
So she tilted her head to the side, following the direction he was tugging her braid. And then she reached toward him, but since there was no braid to grab, she reached around behind his neck, sifting her fingers through his hair, ignoring the way a whole shower of sparks skittered from her fingertips to her palm, down to her wrist.
She made a fist, pulling gently on his dark hair. Then something different flared in his eyes. A heat that matched the one burning inside her stomach. The heat she had just identified last night.
Holy crap.
She took in a shaking breath, her heart pounding so loudly she was certain he could hear it.
She leaned in, running her tongue along the edge of her suddenly dry lips as she did. Jack’s posture went straight, his body shifting backward slightly, betraying the fact that she had now succeeded in making him uncomfortable.
The realization sent a surge of power through her, one that helped take the edge off the shaking in her knees. She moved her mouth close to his ear, the motion bringing her body in close to his, her breasts brushing against his chest, her pulse an echo like hoofbeats on the dirt.
She took a breath and was momentarily stunned by Jack. By his scent, clean and spicy, soap and skin. Being surrounded, enveloped, by his heat. By him.
A jolt of nerves shook her, and she felt tempted to bolt. And that temptation spurred her on. Because she didn’t run.
“If you were telling me a lie,” she said, lowering her voice to a whisper, “if you really think you know everything there is to know about me, I hope you consider yourself enlightened now.” She moved away from him, her cheek brushing against his, his stubble rasping against her sensitive skin.
The sensation sent a shock of pleasure straight down to her core. She looked up, her eyes clashing with his. They were close enough that if she leaned in just a fraction of an inch, the tips of their noses would touch. And from there, it would be only a breath between their lips.
Jack lifted his hand again, taking ahold of the end of her braid and wrapping his fist around it. But rather than giving it the gentle tug she had become accustomed to, he simply held her.
Kate’s heart thudded dully, her mouth so dry she felt as though she’d sucked on a piece of cotton. Everything in her was on hold, wondering what he would do next. Would he release his hold on her? Or would he pull harder on her braid, closing the distance between them?
Oh Lord, she could barely breathe.
Then he winked, releasing his grip on her and straightening, as though all of that tension between them had been imaginary. As though he hadn’t felt it at all. “Good job,” he said, his tone light, dismissive. “You might be a better student than I thought you would be.”
She cleared her throat and flipped her braid over her shoulder so he couldn’t