Must Love Cowboys by Cheryl Brooks

cowboy and cook, the owners would hire someone else who could take on both jobs. Replacing one man with two people made no sense whatsoever.
    â€œNo strings, huh? I can handle that.” Dean retrieved the shoe boxes from the roof of the car and offered me his arm. “What do you say we start by spending the evening in your room reading old letters?”
    His sly grin led me to assume there would be more than letter reading going on, although I had absolutely no idea what to expect.
    As we strolled back to the bunkhouse, I became aware of something I couldn’t recall ever having felt before—a slick, wet sensation between my thighs. I’d never been around a man who’d even attempted to elicit that response from me. Evidently, I wasn’t incapable. Dean had proved that with one kiss.
    He climbed the steps to the porch and held the kitchen door open for me. As soon as I stepped inside, I wished we’d used the door that opened directly into my room. Wyatt and Bull were at the sink, washing dishes, and the scowl Wyatt aimed in my direction made me suspect him of spying on us. I couldn’t have named all the emotions reflected in his eyes, but at least one of them was disgust—or maybe annoyance. Whatever it was, it certainly wasn’t jealousy.
    In that instant, my anger flared. Who was he to judge me anyway? I was a grown woman who’d rarely even been kissed. Didn’t everyone deserve a little passion in their life?
    Determined not to let Wyatt make me feel guilty, I lifted my chin and walked past him with a purposeful stride. “Dean and I will be in my room reading through these letters if anyone wants to give us a hand.”
    I could have sworn I heard Wyatt let out a snort, but Bull was the one who spoke up. “I don’t envy you that job. I never could read Calvin’s handwriting.”
    Having been more accustomed to reading printed texts and emails, I wasn’t much good at deciphering such things myself. I paused by the doorway to the hall. “Hopefully we’ll have better luck. If not, I’ll start searching online or read the letters my grandfather sent to Calvin. I’m sure they’re all typewritten, although I don’t believe they’d be as useful.”
    â€œProbably not,” Dean agreed. With a smug grin, he placed a hand on the small of my back and steered me into the hall. “Y’all know where to find us.”
    I could scarcely contain my giggles until we reached my room. “Do you think they saw us?”
    â€œI dunno,” Dean replied, chuckling. “But if looks could kill, Wyatt would be facing murder charges.”
    â€œWhat’s his problem anyway?”
    He shrugged. “Maybe he wants you for himself.”
    My thoughts touched on the back rub episode. If Wyatt had wanted more than a massage, he’d had plenty of opportunity to ask me, and he hadn’t. “I doubt it.” I was a breath away from making the usual self-deprecating remark when it occurred to me that I now knew of at least one man who was anxious to be my—what was he, anyway? A sort of temporary boyfriend? The whole idea seemed rather shallow. Still, I certainly wasn’t going to turn down a little male attention, particularly when the man in question was as cute—and willing—as Dean.
    Wyatt struck me as the unattainable type. Sexy and tempting, perhaps, but ultimately beyond my reach. Unfortunately, dismissing him from my thoughts wasn’t easy. Putting my hands on him had done things to me I couldn’t begin to explain.
    â€œHis loss.” Waggling his brows, Dean dumped the boxes on the bed and sat down, patting the space beside him. “Have a seat.”
    Something told me if I were to sit that close to him, we wouldn’t get much reading done. I opted to perch near the head of the bed with the letters between us.
    â€œChicken,” he chided.
    I grimaced. “If it’s all the same