Runaway Cowboy by T. J. Kline Read Free Book Online

toes.
    Sure, at the start of rodeo season. You might as well plan on taking a rowboat to the moon.
    Her family needed her, and she wouldn’t let them down. Not now or ever. Mike had done more than any man could be expected to do for his best friend’s kids—he’d taken them in as his own and had taken Scott’s side over his daughter’s false accusations. In spite of Scott and Derek’s most recent lapse of judgment, she knew they only had her best interests in mind. They would both do anything for her, the way she would for them. They were a tight family, and she wasn’t about to let anything, or anyone, break that bond.
    The banging on the front door jerked her from her thoughts, making her jump in surprise and nearly fall, her foot sliding in the conditioner on the shower floor. “I’m coming,” she yelled. “Derek, just hang on.”
    Quickly rinsing her hair, she threw on clothes and wrapped a towel around her head before flipping the lock on the door and heading back to the bedroom. “I should make you sleep in the horse trailer after what you pulled today.” She dropped the wet towel onto the bed and reached for her comb.
    â€œIt wouldn’t be the first time.”
    Jennifer spun at the sound of Clay’s voice, the wet strands of her long hair slapping against her face and sticking to her cheeks. “What are you doing in here?”
    His green eyes glinted with humor, but that wasn’t all she saw there. She refused to put a name to what she thought she recognized. “Well, you didn’t exactly let me finish explaining.”
    â€œAnd you weren’t exactly talking,” she countered. “Look, Clay, I’m tired, and I don’t feel like fighting with you. I just want to go to bed.”
    â€œIf you say so.” A slow, seductive smile spread over his full lips. He sat on the couch and pushed the toe of his boot against the heel of the other foot, repeating the motion with the opposite boot, then he stood and unbuckled his belt.
    She glared at him, hoping he would get the hint that she wasn’t in the mood for his childish games. “I seem to recall you couldn’t get out of my bed fast enough. You’re no longer welcome.” She turned and headed back for the bedroom door, reaching for her comb. “I assume you know the way out. You didn’t seem to have trouble finding it last time.” It was a low blow, but when it came to Clay, her mouth seemed to operate without permission from her heart.
    He moved silently to the bedroom and watched her brush out her hair. It made her self-conscious, and she jerked at the tresses, in a hurry to get away from his prying gaze. She glanced up to see him leaning against the doorframe, his eyes dark with the same yearning that was pulsing through her veins. Even now, in the face of his desertion, he made her breath catch and the blood pound like a bass drum, creating a swirling need that centered in her chest, beating against the walls of her heart.
    Only Clay had ever made her feel this way. From the first time those green eyes met hers across the corral at the ranch, his heated gaze had a way of making her insides burn, while her skin tingled with anticipation of his touch. Damn him.
    Her hands trembled, and she dropped her comb on the floor. Way to look like he doesn’t have you tied in knots, Jennifer.
    He covered the distance between them, retrieving her comb. “Sit,” he ordered, pressing on her shoulder so she sat at the foot of the bed. Clay’s hand slid under her hair, grazing the base of her neck, causing a shiver of delightful tingles to travel down the length of her spine. He closed his fist around her hair and carefully combed the snarls from the lower half. Once he finished, he released his grip and worked the comb from her roots to the ends. She bit back a sigh of bliss at his touch. Each stroke ignited sparks of need, miniature explosions of