His Cowgirl Bride

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Authors: Debra Clopton
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exaggerated gasp. “Was that a compliment?”
    â€œI don’t know? Was it?”
    â€œYou know you like me.”
    â€œDo you flirt with everyone?”
    â€œOh, so now you’re getting personal,” she teased, enjoying herself more than she probably should. “Am I flirting?”
    His eyes sparkled with amusement. “You’re not?”
    â€œI don’t know, am I?”
    He raised a brow. “Do you flirt with everyone?”
    That gave her pause…. “You mean Jess?”
    â€œIs that his name?”
    This was interesting. She thought he’d seen her winking at Jess earlier at the diner, but she hadn’t expected him to ask her about it. “Why are you asking about my social life? Do not tell me you’re thinking about asking me out.” His eyes shifted slightly and she knew he’d been thinking exactly that. “Oh, no.” She half laughed. “I’ll tell you the same as I’ve told Jess and all the other cowboys looking to date me—I don’t date.”
    â€œI wasn’t going to ask you out,” he denied.
    She laughed, not believing him for one moment. “Then why the nosy question? And why do you look so startled by my straight-up answer?” Cowboys —they were so easy to read, especially after being raised with four brothers. She had his number, and she knew it.
    He did, too. Caught in his bluff, he snatched his hat from his head and rammed his free hand through his thick, straight, sandy-brown hair.
    She planted herself in front of him. “You’re flustered,” she pressed, looking up at him intently, unable to resist teasing him.
    His gaze darkened and dropped to her lips, then jerked back to meet her eyes.
    Suddenly Tacy realized that she might not be as much in control of the situation as she’d believed!
    Brent wanted to tug Tacy into his arms and kiss her sassy mouth. This thing they had between them was like an electric current. Dangerous and powerful. He leaned toward her, every fiber in him intent on finding out if a kiss would be electric, when she slapped a palm to his chest, flattening it firmly in place.
    â€œWhoa, cowboy,” she warned. “I said I don’t date. And I certainly don’t kiss cowboys who’ve told me they have no respect for me.”
    â€œWhat? Where did you get that?”
    She cocked a brow, flipped her ponytail over her shoulder and strode back to Rabbit’s stall.
    He followed at a slower pace, stunned by her accusation. “I never said I didn’t respect you.”
    She opened the gate and entered the stall, glancing over her shoulder to pin him with her stare. “Sure you did. You won’t let me in that arena with those horses.” She opened the back gate and shooed Rabbit out into the back run before turning to face him. “You won’t let me near them or teach me how to break them. That’s like shouting at me that you have no respect for me.”
    â€œThat’s not true.”
    â€œOh, yeah? Then explain to me what it does mean.”
    She stepped by him, grabbed hold of the wheelbarrow and rake used to clean the stall and pushed past him into the stall to begin working.
    â€œSay something,” she said. “You must have a reason for being so against a woman learning how to break horses. Since I’m the woman it’s affecting at themoment, don’t you think you owe me an explanation?”
    She had a point, though he didn’t like it very much. “What exactly do you know about me?” he asked, following her as she pushed the wheelbarrow outside to dump it. He took the handles and was surprised when she stepped back and let him empty the contents. “If you’re trying to flit through all the sordid details you know and pick the things you think won’t make me mad, don’t bother,” he said finally. “Some of it was true, but most of it wasn’t. What I’m

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