Texas Bossa Nova (Texas Montgomery Mavericks Book 5) by Cynthia D’Alba Page A

never been a scout wasn’t relevant to the conversation, was it? “And I brought lotion,” he said, holding up the bottle of hand lotion she kept on the window sill by the sink.
    She scooted down the couch. “Let me guess. You were never a scout, right?”
    He snorted. “I’ll never tell. Now sit still.” He moved his fingers over her shoulder. Pressing only slightly produced a hiss. “That hurt?”
    “Not too bad.”
    “You are the worst liar ever, Mags. So don’t be looking to go into professional con jobs as a career.”
    “Har. Har. Oh,” she moaned as he began to work the muscle through her T-shirt material. “That feels…mmm.” Her voice drifted off as her head lagged to the side.
    He worked his finger into the wide neck of her shirt until he touched flesh. She stiffened under his fingertips, but he knew if he removed them, she’d run. Instead, he pumped a dab of lotion on his fingers and worked that hand into the shirt’s neck too. The greasy lotion made sliding his fingers over the knot in her shoulder much easier.
    She sagged into a relaxed position as he worked the soreness out of her shoulder and then moved his fingers up her neck. The tension there was surprising. It felt like he was rubbing a board.
    “Wow, Magda. You need some serious rubbing.”
    Turning her head to look over her shoulder, she said, “There are just so many things wrong with that statement, I’m not sure where to begin.”
    “Well, since you made me promise no dirty talk, I’ll go directly to the suggestion that you need to hit the Garden of Eden Spa in town.”
    “And how do you know anything about the Garden of Eden?”
    “I get around.”
    She chuckled. “I bet you do.” She pulled away and stood. “Thanks,” she said, rotating her shoulder. “Feels much better.” She stretched her arms over her head and yawned. “Stick me with a fork, ’cause I’m done. See you in the morning. Night.”
    “Night,” he said to her back as she walked away.
    He loved that Magda was quick to pitch in any way she could to help keep the ranch running. Cleaning stalls was a horrible job, and yet there she was, pitchfork in hand, ready to shovel manure. He loved her cooking, be it a meal or even a microwaved cookie treat. Coming home exhausted and walking in to a dinner ready to eat had brightened more horrible days than he could count.
    He loved that the house always smelled like lemons after she dusted and that she sang while she cleaned.
    He loved how his life had changed since she’d come back into it. She made him laugh with her irreverent comments and groan with her horrible jokes. She made him happy.
    But in love with Magda? No. That couldn’t be right, could it?

Chapter Nine
    Magda was cold. Very cold. A shiver shook her as she pulled her blanket and bedspread up to her chin and snuggled down in the sheets. She was dropping off when a pounding at her door woke her. Confusion was her first reaction, followed by squinting. Why was it so bright in her bedroom?
    “Magda? Wake up.”
    The last time Reno had banged at her door, Darren had had the accident. Zeb jumped to the front of her mind. Had something happened?
    She scrambled from the bed and scurried to the door to open it. “What’s happened? Is it Zeb?”
    “Zeb? No, no. We have no electricity. Power lines must be down.”
    “Oh.” She scrubbed her face and stopped. “What time is it?”
    “A little after eight.”
    “Damn it. I overslept.”
    “No problem. I noticed you hadn’t gotten up when I went down to the kitchen a couple of hours ago. I turned the horses out for some exercise.”
    “In this weather? Isn’t that dangerous?”
    He smiled. “No. They’ll do just fine. But I was surprised when I got back and my coffee wasn’t waiting on me.”
    “Oh, gosh. Sorry. Give me a minute and I’ll get going.”
    “Slow down, Mags. I’m just kidding. I know how to make coffee on the gas stove. That isn’t the issue. The problem is I don’t know how