Should've Been a Cowboy by Vicki Lewis Thompson Page B

you thought?”
    “For all I know, some woman broke your heart again and I’m handy.”
    “Come here.” He guided her closer and kissed her, putting all the gratitude, tenderness and passion he felt into that kiss. Then he drew back. “You’re not a substitute, Tyler. There’s no one like you. No one.”
    She framed his face in both hands as she glided up and down, up and down. “Last summer, I think you wanted to forget.” She moved a little faster, her breath coming in quick gasps.
    “Maybe.” He lost himself in the depths of her eyes. “Now I want to remember. I want to remember how it feels to be loving you.”
    “That sounds serious.” It wasn’t an accusation, just a statement.
    “Not that serious,” he lied. His climax stalked him, ready to pounce. “Don’t worry. I’ll let you go.”
    “I know.” Her hips pumped faster. “Don’t think about that now.”
    He laughed. “Who’s thinking?” His grip tightened and the blood roared in his ears.
    Her voice was low and intense. “Not me. I’m coming. Oh, Alex, this is so…”
    “Yeah…” The sound of their ragged breathing drowned out everything but the slap of her thighs against the denim of his jeans as she hurtled toward her orgasm.
    She took him with her. As the spasms rocked her body, he erupted, driving upward in an instinctive impulse to plant his seed deep in her womb. He understood that she wasn’t asking for anything but this, sex for the sake of mutual pleasure. But his body, responding to signals hundreds of years old, had other ideas.
    His body would just have to get over it. Any thoughts that Tyler had been affected the way he had were dashed once she’d recovered enough to talk.
    “Well, that was fun.” She laughed but didn’t meet his gaze. “However, getting unwound from each other will be more of a challenge than untangling a strand of Christmas lights.”
    So, they were supposed to keep their comments superficial. He could do that. “How are you at untangling Christmas lights?”
    “Pretty good. Let me move first.”
    “I think that’s a given. If I move first, you’re going out the door and into the dirt.”
    “Hold on to me.”
    He cleared his throat. “You bet.”
    “I meant that literally, not figuratively.”
    “I know.” He wished she hadn’t felt the need to remind him, though. And once she lifted her body free of his, he battled a sense of loss that didn’t bode well for his future peace of mind.
    “If I swing around and put both feet on the floor, then I think you can slide out, and I can sit back down in the seat.”
    “You must be a whiz at Twister.” There. That was the right tone to set. Fun and games. He hoped he could maintain that attitude.
    “I am good at Twister. And cruise ships are also a marvel of spatial economy, so I’ve learned a lot there, too.” She put her right foot on the floor mat. Then, bracing both hands on the back of the seat, she put her other foot on the floor, giving Alex room to duck underneath her and climb out of the cab.
    He murmured his thanks, and once she was sitting on the seat, he closed the door, which turned off the dome light. That gave him the necessary privacy to deal with the condom and button up. By the time he came to the driver’s side of the truck and opened the door, she was once again dressed in her jeans and was putting on her shoes.
    She’d braced one foot on the edge of the seat so she could tie her laces, and her hair fell forward, obscuring her face so he couldn’t read her expression. He would have thought she was totally cool and in command of herself except for one thing. Her fingers trembled and she was having some trouble tying her shoe.
    Apparently she was as shook up by their lovemaking as he was. The breezy way she’d talked to him afterward had been her way of trying to maintain some distance. He’d promised not to cause problems for her, but it seemed he had, anyway.
    “Maybe we should just go back,” he said softly as he