Read Online Kickin' Up Dust: Operation Cowboy, Book 1 by Em Petrova - Free Book Online
Authors: Em Petrova
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dwelling on the past—or a future with a stubborn ex-soldier turned cowboy who’d kissed her once.
Okay. I’ll meet you at Shooters in an hour.
Several smiley faces appeared on her screen. “Guess that’s a yes,” she said to herself.
She went to her bedroom and starting rummaging through her closet. She needed an outfit appropriate enough for drinks and comfy enough for riding. She tossed out several items and took less than a minute to decide on her slimmest dark jeans and a black top that hung off one shoulder.
Wearing it meant she had to change out of her everyday white bra and into something with a slinky strap. “But I need to hold the girls up,” she muttered, rooting through a drawer.
She held up a bra and examined it. Dammit, cowgirls really had it bad when it came to undergarments. She wanted to be cute but not bounce. Her options were limited. With a sigh, she wiggled out of her clothes and into the bra and matching panties. When she looked down at her bare toes, she groaned.
The polish was chipped. Sure, she’d be wearing boots but what if…?
She threw on the rest of her clothes, grabbed her bottle of Bombshell Beauty nail polish and went back out into the kitchen where the lighting was better. She had just propped her foot on the stool and had the tiny brush aimed at her big toe when the kitchen door opened.
Glancing up, she nearly swallowed her tongue.
Brodie Bell in a Marine Corps T-shirt and clean jeans. He was wearing a black cowboy hat instead of his regular battered brown. Of course he is. His other hat’s soaked.
His gaze raked over her from head to chipped toenail.
“What are you doing here?” she asked. To keep from gawking at him, she applied the first brushstroke of vampy red over the old layer.
“I just dropped off some feed. We had a few bags sitting around in our barn and I remembered your chickens were out.”
“Oh. Thanks.” She polished her second toe then third. When he didn’t leave, she stole a glance at him. “Why are you so dressed up?”
“Why’re you?”
She finished her right foot and propped up her left. “No reason. Just thought it would be nice to get out of my grubby barn clothes for a change.”
“The guys and I are going to rip up the next town. Since this one’s already flattened.”
Her stomach lurched at the realization that he wasn’t against going out—just going out with her.
“Well have fun,” she said coolly.
His crooked smile was far too bad-boy for her rioting hormones. “We’ll see what fun we can find, but don’t worry. We won’t be stupid.” She snorted and settled her foot on the floor. He dropped his gaze to her toenails. “Nice color.”
“Thanks.”
“I might get a late start tomorrow morning.”
“Me too,” she blurted. Maybe she should just tell him she was going out with Wayne. Nah—he’d had his chance. She lifted her jaw. “I might sleep in, but I’ll let Pa know so he can feed and water the cattle.”
“Sounds good.” Brodie sniffed the air. “Do I smell snickerdoodles?”
Compressing her lips, she nodded. “I wasn’t thinking.”
“About?” He really was clueless. Maybe it was a man thing or she was just overly sensitive. Probably both.
“Matt’s favorite.”
Brodie’s face transformed. Tension bracketed his lips and his eyes darkened, if such a thing were possible. His eyes were already espresso. “I remember now. You okay, Squirt?”
She didn’t want to face this interrogation. She wanted to stuff her head in the sand and not think about all the uproar in her life right now. “As long as you’re not calling me Easter, I’m good.”
His face cracked into a grin, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “All right then. Catcha later, Danica.”
As Brodie left her kitchen, she no longer detected the cinnamon scent of cookies. No, she smelled clean aftershave and leather. She sighed. This was going to be a long night if she didn’t screw her head on straight. Wayne deserved a
Okay. I’ll meet you at Shooters in an hour.
Several smiley faces appeared on her screen. “Guess that’s a yes,” she said to herself.
She went to her bedroom and starting rummaging through her closet. She needed an outfit appropriate enough for drinks and comfy enough for riding. She tossed out several items and took less than a minute to decide on her slimmest dark jeans and a black top that hung off one shoulder.
Wearing it meant she had to change out of her everyday white bra and into something with a slinky strap. “But I need to hold the girls up,” she muttered, rooting through a drawer.
She held up a bra and examined it. Dammit, cowgirls really had it bad when it came to undergarments. She wanted to be cute but not bounce. Her options were limited. With a sigh, she wiggled out of her clothes and into the bra and matching panties. When she looked down at her bare toes, she groaned.
The polish was chipped. Sure, she’d be wearing boots but what if…?
She threw on the rest of her clothes, grabbed her bottle of Bombshell Beauty nail polish and went back out into the kitchen where the lighting was better. She had just propped her foot on the stool and had the tiny brush aimed at her big toe when the kitchen door opened.
Glancing up, she nearly swallowed her tongue.
Brodie Bell in a Marine Corps T-shirt and clean jeans. He was wearing a black cowboy hat instead of his regular battered brown. Of course he is. His other hat’s soaked.
His gaze raked over her from head to chipped toenail.
“What are you doing here?” she asked. To keep from gawking at him, she applied the first brushstroke of vampy red over the old layer.
“I just dropped off some feed. We had a few bags sitting around in our barn and I remembered your chickens were out.”
“Oh. Thanks.” She polished her second toe then third. When he didn’t leave, she stole a glance at him. “Why are you so dressed up?”
“Why’re you?”
She finished her right foot and propped up her left. “No reason. Just thought it would be nice to get out of my grubby barn clothes for a change.”
“The guys and I are going to rip up the next town. Since this one’s already flattened.”
Her stomach lurched at the realization that he wasn’t against going out—just going out with her.
“Well have fun,” she said coolly.
His crooked smile was far too bad-boy for her rioting hormones. “We’ll see what fun we can find, but don’t worry. We won’t be stupid.” She snorted and settled her foot on the floor. He dropped his gaze to her toenails. “Nice color.”
“Thanks.”
“I might get a late start tomorrow morning.”
“Me too,” she blurted. Maybe she should just tell him she was going out with Wayne. Nah—he’d had his chance. She lifted her jaw. “I might sleep in, but I’ll let Pa know so he can feed and water the cattle.”
“Sounds good.” Brodie sniffed the air. “Do I smell snickerdoodles?”
Compressing her lips, she nodded. “I wasn’t thinking.”
“About?” He really was clueless. Maybe it was a man thing or she was just overly sensitive. Probably both.
“Matt’s favorite.”
Brodie’s face transformed. Tension bracketed his lips and his eyes darkened, if such a thing were possible. His eyes were already espresso. “I remember now. You okay, Squirt?”
She didn’t want to face this interrogation. She wanted to stuff her head in the sand and not think about all the uproar in her life right now. “As long as you’re not calling me Easter, I’m good.”
His face cracked into a grin, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “All right then. Catcha later, Danica.”
As Brodie left her kitchen, she no longer detected the cinnamon scent of cookies. No, she smelled clean aftershave and leather. She sighed. This was going to be a long night if she didn’t screw her head on straight. Wayne deserved a
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