MisplacedCowboy by Mari Carr and Lexxie Couper Read Free Book Online Page B

mean…” He rose to his feet and crossed to the window. “I’m
sorry, Monet. I shouldn’t have done that.”
    Monet sucked in a ragged breath. She stared at his back, her
heart wild in her throat. “I should have stopped you.” Her voice sounded weak.
“We both need to…”
    She didn’t finished. Instead, she spun on her heel and all
but ran to her bedroom.
    Throwing herself onto her bed, she snatched up her phone and
dialed Annie’s cell number.
    “Annie, I need you to call me back,” she burst out when
Annie’s message service kicked in. “I think I’m going to do something really
stupid, something you’re going to hate me for if you don’t call me back.” She
stopped. Pulled in a long breath. “Please call. I think…I think I’m in lust
with your Australian cowboy.”
    She killed the connection with a jab of her thumb, dropped
her phone to the bed and stared at the wall.
    Guilt coursed through her again. Turned the breath in her
lungs to choking pressure. She swallowed. How did she let that happen? One
second she was telling herself she was sending Dylan to a hotel and the next
she’s kissing him?
    Begging him to get naked?
    She picked up her phone again.
    Annie , she typed into her phone’s messaging app. I
know you’re in Australia with Dylan’s family. I’m sure there’s a reason you
haven’t called me. I just wanted to let you know I will do everything I can to
keep my hands off Dylan. Everything. But girlfriend, it’s going to be HARD.
    Hitting send, she fixed her focus on her closed door. What
was Dylan doing on the other side of it? Was he still there?
    And what did she do if he was?
    Hell, what did she do if he wasn’t?
    The last thought brought a thick lump to her throat and a
stab of pain to her belly. Which made her close her eyes and draw in a long,
slow breath.
    Annie had been through the meat grinder when it came to
guys. The last thing she needed was Monet doing the dirty with the one man she
seemed to genuinely connect with.
    But what if you genuinely connect with him too? What do
you do then?
    The question didn’t help Monet’s messed up state of mind at
all. She opened her eyes and stared at the door again.
    “Go out there, apologize, ask him if he’d like a coffee and
then call a cab. That’s what you’re going to do. Got it?”
    Simple, straightforward plan of attack. Easy. This should be
easy.
    Five second later, when she opened the door and found Dylan
sitting on her studio sofa, elbows resting on his knees, head hanging down, hat
in his hands, she knew it wasn’t easy.
    Or straightforward.
    Because the second her gaze found him, her heart quickened,
her palms prickled and her stomach clenched.
    And the second he raised his head and looked at her, a
haunted look in his eyes as a rueful smile pulled at one side of his mouth, she
knew the likelihood of her calling a taxi was slim.
    “I’m sorry.”
    His voice played over her fraying nerves, a deep, husky
timbre that sent tingles down her spine.
    “That was bloody pathetic of me,” he went on, rising to his
feet. “I don’t know what came over me.”
    I do. Monet wanted to say. The same thing that
came over me. Raw, primitive sexual desire.
    She didn’t say it, however. She licked her lips and then
forced a smile of her own. “It’s my fault. I kissed you first back at the
gallery.”
    His nostrils flared and she watched his Adam’s apple slide
up and down his throat. “You did.”
    Monet let out a breath as shaky as her smile. “It’s the
accent. It does things to me.”
    He cocked an eyebrow, the crooked smile stretching a little
wider. “All accents? Or just Australian ones?”
    She laughed. “All accents. You should see me when I hear a
Scottish one.”
    “So if I talk to you like Sean Connery…”
    Monet burst out laughing at Dylan’s very atrocious Scottish
accent.
    He grinned. “Yeah, it’s pretty bad.”
    “Your American one is better.”
    With a laugh, he raised his arm and placed his hat