Cowboy Crushin' (Dalton Boys Book 3) by Em Petrova Read Free Book Online Page A

He stuck his tongue between his teeth and squished up his face to look at the sun.
    Witt chuckled and stood, cramped as hell after forcing his long legs into a position on that swing. “Are you any good at telling time by the sun?”
    “Dunno. I think it’s nine-seventeen. Am I close?”
    Laughing, Witt clamped a hand on Alex’s shoulder and they walked back to The Sweet Tooth. The place was empty and Shelby had the music turned up a bit louder. When she heard the bell jingle, she came out of the back room.
    Flushed, a tendril of hair clinging to her damp cheekbone.
    His heart turned over. Holding her gaze, he pushed behind the counter, grabbed her around the waist and started two-stepping her. Alex hooted with laughter. Shelby threw her head back and giggled.
    The effects of that laugh burrowed into Witt’s body and his Wranglers grew a size too small. He spun her under his arm then reeled her close.
    Every sweet, tormenting inch called to him. His mouth hovered over her upturned lips and he gazed into her eyes.
    “Witt…”
    He gave her a slow grin before releasing her. “Ready?”

    Shelby let her gaze skitter over the brothers who looked so alike she’d never keep them straight. She’d have to resort to calling them Hunk 1, 2 and so on. During the fried chicken dinner she’d hardly been able to eat a bite under all those dark blue stares.
    Alex had sat between her and Witt and managed to tuck away two whole drumsticks and a pile of potatoes that would feed a small family in a third world country. After that, the guys went out to do chores and the others drifted onto the porch.
    All the Daltons were courteous, but it was impossible to ignore the knowing looks Witt’s mother, Maggie, threw at her.
    “Here, have some dessert.” The woman named Charlotte had a baby in one hand and a Mason jar filled with berry cobbler in the other.
    “Thank you.” Shelby accepted the jar and sank to the porch steps beside Alex. He was busy talking off Maggie’s ear. The woman wiped his cobbler-covered face with a big cloth napkin and nodded when he paused.
    He really was a different child around the Daltons. Not a bit shy or withdrawn. If only he’d let his own mother in again. She had a feeling he was angry about the divorce and blaming her for his father being out of the picture. She’d discussed it with him, but he was so young, who knew if he understood?
    One thing he understood was good food, fresh air and kind people.
    Shelby spooned a bite of cobbler into her mouth. Decadent berry goodness made her taste buds sing. She groaned loudly.
    Charlotte smiled. “Good, isn’t it? It’s one of Hank’s favorites.” Her gaze tracked across the yard to the barn where the brothers were doing evening chores. One had a pitchfork and another carried an enormous feed sack.
    Shelby had no clue what was even involved in evening chores but the men sure looked fine doing it. Muscles bulging under their western shirts, thighs straining against worn jeans.
    When Witt emerged from the barn with his hat tipped low, she froze with a bite halfway to her mouth. God, he was a beautiful man. Inside and out, it seemed. Playful, genuine. He knew what he wanted and right now that seemed to be her.
    Chewing the delicious bite of cobbler, she tried to calm her hormones. She wasn’t here so Witt Dalton could drawl her panties off. No, she was here because Alex seemed to blossom around Witt—and the other Daltons.
    She leaned against the porch post and watched Witt stick a long blade of grass in the corner of his mouth. He turned away from her and bent to heave another grain sack over his shoulder.
    She stopped breathing. A V of perspiration wet his shirt back, molding it to carved muscles. Her fingers twitched to stroke them. She gripped the glass jar tighter and squinted into the setting sun.
    “This is gorgeous land,” she said.
    Charlotte nodded, lip captured between her teeth as she stared toward the barn at Hank. “Umm-hmm.”
    Shelby hid