wasn’t the kind to fuck around with no strings.
He grabbed the soap as the hot water cascaded over his warming skin. He’d have to find someone to be his steady booty call, and soon, because as much as Shooter liked sex, he liked his sleep even more and he wasn’t keen on the idea of more middle of the night showers like this one.
Still dressed in her nurse’s scrubs, Ellen turned the key in the ignition but instead of the sounds of the engine, as small as it was in her sensible and fuel-efficient vehicle, there was nothing but a click.
“Dammit!” She pounded her fist against the steering wheel. It was the middle of the night, blacker than pitch except for the lights scattered around the parking lot. Wes was going to kill her if she called him one more time to help with this car. He’d warned her about buying a used car to begin with, and ever since, the vehicle had plotted against her by proving him right. From inexplicable flat tires, to windows that opened but refused to close again, to now, the dead battery, the car had been her nemesis from day one, and Wes never failed to say I told you so .
These were the times when she wished she had a boyfriend. Then she could call him. He’d come and help her—without being an ass about it—then they’d go back to his place and… God, she missed sex. It had been so long, it twisted her stomach to even think about it. But she wasn’t going to break her vow to herself—no rodeo cowboys and no doctors.
All barrel racers knew to keep away from the cowboys since most of them were after nothing but a one-night stand with a buckle bunny after the rodeo. The ones who weren’t were already married or in a serious relationship. And all female nurses knew that dating a doctor at work could be problematic. Invariably relationships ended, leaving nothing but awkwardness—not to mention gossip that never seemed to die. Unfortunately, cowboys and doctors were pretty much the only men she came across in her more-than-busy life, hence the reason she hadn’t dated, or anything else, in far too long.
Though it seemed she’d be meeting a mechanic or two very soon. Given the state of her current car, dating a guy who worked in an auto repair shop might be a very good idea. She sighed and reached for her purse to find her cell phone. She’d have to suck it up and call her know-it-all brother.
Ellen scrolled through her contact list and punched the button to dial Wes’s cell phone in case he was sleeping at Maryann’s house tonight instead of at home. It rang and rang, then went to voicemail. She left a quick message, and then disconnected and dialed the number for their home phone line. That too rang and rang until the message came on.
“What the hell?” Ellen clenched her teeth in frustration.
Of all nights for Wes to not hear his phone… He was probably over at Maryann’s and had the phone on vibrate in the pocket of his jeans, which by now would be in a pile on the floor while he snored in bed. Shit. She hated to do it, but she dialed the number for Maryann’s cell phone, cringing when she glanced at the time on her cell and saw what she knew already, it was very late. Well after midnight since she’d worked past the end of her usual shift to keep an eye on a patient in a hypertensive crisis.
“’llo?” Maryann sounded like she’d been dead asleep and Ellen felt even worse.
“Hey, it’s Ellen. I’m so sorry, sweetie, but is Wes there with you?”
“Mm, it’s okay. No, he’s at your flat. He took some pain pills for his knee and fell asleep on the couch while we were watching the telly. I covered him with a blanket and left. Are you all right? Where are you?” A tone of concern began to creep into Maryann’s voice.
“I’m fine. It’s just…well, I’ve got a dead battery.”
“Where are you? I’ll come collect you.” Even half asleep, Maryann sounded cultured because of her British accent.
Ellen hated that her Texas drawl would never
He grabbed the soap as the hot water cascaded over his warming skin. He’d have to find someone to be his steady booty call, and soon, because as much as Shooter liked sex, he liked his sleep even more and he wasn’t keen on the idea of more middle of the night showers like this one.
Still dressed in her nurse’s scrubs, Ellen turned the key in the ignition but instead of the sounds of the engine, as small as it was in her sensible and fuel-efficient vehicle, there was nothing but a click.
“Dammit!” She pounded her fist against the steering wheel. It was the middle of the night, blacker than pitch except for the lights scattered around the parking lot. Wes was going to kill her if she called him one more time to help with this car. He’d warned her about buying a used car to begin with, and ever since, the vehicle had plotted against her by proving him right. From inexplicable flat tires, to windows that opened but refused to close again, to now, the dead battery, the car had been her nemesis from day one, and Wes never failed to say I told you so .
These were the times when she wished she had a boyfriend. Then she could call him. He’d come and help her—without being an ass about it—then they’d go back to his place and… God, she missed sex. It had been so long, it twisted her stomach to even think about it. But she wasn’t going to break her vow to herself—no rodeo cowboys and no doctors.
All barrel racers knew to keep away from the cowboys since most of them were after nothing but a one-night stand with a buckle bunny after the rodeo. The ones who weren’t were already married or in a serious relationship. And all female nurses knew that dating a doctor at work could be problematic. Invariably relationships ended, leaving nothing but awkwardness—not to mention gossip that never seemed to die. Unfortunately, cowboys and doctors were pretty much the only men she came across in her more-than-busy life, hence the reason she hadn’t dated, or anything else, in far too long.
Though it seemed she’d be meeting a mechanic or two very soon. Given the state of her current car, dating a guy who worked in an auto repair shop might be a very good idea. She sighed and reached for her purse to find her cell phone. She’d have to suck it up and call her know-it-all brother.
Ellen scrolled through her contact list and punched the button to dial Wes’s cell phone in case he was sleeping at Maryann’s house tonight instead of at home. It rang and rang, then went to voicemail. She left a quick message, and then disconnected and dialed the number for their home phone line. That too rang and rang until the message came on.
“What the hell?” Ellen clenched her teeth in frustration.
Of all nights for Wes to not hear his phone… He was probably over at Maryann’s and had the phone on vibrate in the pocket of his jeans, which by now would be in a pile on the floor while he snored in bed. Shit. She hated to do it, but she dialed the number for Maryann’s cell phone, cringing when she glanced at the time on her cell and saw what she knew already, it was very late. Well after midnight since she’d worked past the end of her usual shift to keep an eye on a patient in a hypertensive crisis.
“’llo?” Maryann sounded like she’d been dead asleep and Ellen felt even worse.
“Hey, it’s Ellen. I’m so sorry, sweetie, but is Wes there with you?”
“Mm, it’s okay. No, he’s at your flat. He took some pain pills for his knee and fell asleep on the couch while we were watching the telly. I covered him with a blanket and left. Are you all right? Where are you?” A tone of concern began to creep into Maryann’s voice.
“I’m fine. It’s just…well, I’ve got a dead battery.”
“Where are you? I’ll come collect you.” Even half asleep, Maryann sounded cultured because of her British accent.
Ellen hated that her Texas drawl would never
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