Going Cowboy Crazy by Katie Lane Read Free Book Online Page B

exactly cool down as fast as you do.”
    Her gaze dropped down to the bulge in his blue jeans, then quickly back up to the smile that tipped one side of his mouth. If her face got any hotter, it would incinerate.
    Faith watched as he jumped down and closed the door, then waited until his shadowy form disappeared into the darkness before she slipped on her panties and pants. She found her purse on the floor and searched through it for anything that might improve her appearance before he got back. It wasn’t hard to locate her brush, or her peach-scented hand lotion, or the small square container of dental floss. But after brushing, flossing, and moisturizing, she couldn’t find her tube of lip gloss.
    It wasn’t a big deal. Up until this afternoon, she’d never concerned herself with makeup. Just a few swipes of mascara and a neutral-colored matte lipstick would do her. But for some reason, the gloss had become more than just makeup. She wasn’t sure what; all she knew was she wanted it on before Slate returned.
    She had to click on the overhead light before she discovered it in one of the side pockets. Looking for a mirror to apply it with, she flipped down the visor, but all she found were two ticket stubs to an Alan Jackson concert and a condom. The condom was like a cold, hard slap of reality. She’d almost had sex with a complete stranger. A man she had known for only two hours. Three tops. A man who owned so many guns he needed a rack for them. Bragged about his penis size. And kept an extra large condom in his visor.
    An arrogant redneck.
    Her aunt Jillian would be horrified. And her mother was probably turning over in her grave, along with her dear old dad. And none of her friends at work would believe it.
    Not Faith. Not sweet, rule-abiding Faith.
    She screamed.
    Not because she was so upset about what she’d done, but because Buster had returned and jumped up on the truck, his large front paws curved over the bottom edge of Slate’s open window. Blood dripped from his woolly muzzle.
    “What the hell?!” Slate came charging around the front of the truck with his open shirt flapping.
    “It’s Buster!” She jerked out the small package of disinfectant wipes she never left home without and pulled out three. “Something attacked him!” Sliding across the seat, she grabbed the dog’s head and stuffed the wipes into his mouth, searching for the source of the blood so she could apply pressure. But the dog jerked his head loose and hopped down, cowering behind Slate’s legs.
    “For the love of Pete.” Slate took the wipes out of herhand and tossed them into the bed of the truck. “Buster didn’t get attacked, he attacked something. More than likely a prairie dog.”
    “A prairie dog?” She looked down at Buster, who was now pawing his nose. “Do you think the prairie dog is badly hurt? Maybe we should call someone.”
    “Like who? The Prairie Dog Ambulance?” He walked to the back of the truck and pulled the tailgate down so Buster could hop in. By the time he jerked open the door, the grin was back.
    “You’re sure a worryin’ little thing.”
    Faith slid back over to her side of the seat as he climbed inside. The awkwardness was back, so she busied herself closing the wipes container and putting it in her purse. But when he didn’t start the engine, she glanced over at him.
    His eyes twinkled in the overhead light. “You sure you don’t want to get to know me personally?”
    Nodding her head was harder than she thought it would be.
    “All right then.” The smile faded as he leaned forward to start the truck. “But if you’re ever in Bramble again, be sure to look me up.”
    His words brought with them a sense of deep regret. With Hope in Hollywood, there would be no reason to return to Bramble. Which meant Faith would probably never again view the world from the high perch of a monster truck. Or do a nasty shot. Or watch a West Texas sunset paint the skies in vibrant shades. Or kiss a