Read Online The Big Girl and Cowboy Show - An Alpha Cowboy Erotic Romance by Cleo Page - Free Book Online Page B

don’t leave now.”
    “Thanks, Quinn. I’ll be right out.” The young man turned and exited the coffee shop as quickly as he had come in.
    “Well, he couldn’t possibly be a friend of yours. He didn’t call you Randy.” He knew I was teasing him. I got the feeling he liked this. In fact, I was getting the distinct impression that not many people challenged this man. He’s gonna love me , I thought. I’m crazy good at being challenging.
    More chuckling. By now, each bassy soundwave that came out of Randall’s mouth flew through the air and landed directly between my legs with more accuracy than William Tell at an apple convention.
    “That was Quinn. He’s my assistant. He makes sure I get to wherever I need to be whenever it is that I’m supposed to be there.”
    “So, employees can’t be friends?” I prodded him a little more since he had clearly enjoyed the first bit of teasing.
    “No, no. That’s not it at all. He has actually turned into a very dear friend, but our relationship began as employer, employee. I’ve asked him—told him, even—many times to call me Randy, but he prefers to keep things old school and maintain the hierarchy.”
    Interesting choice of words , I thought.
    He continued, “Now, unfortunately, I really should be on my way. Nobody wins when Quinn gets stressed out.”
    I smiled at his joke about Quinn—I think it was a joke—but inside I felt like someone was about to steal the rug right out from under me and soon there would be nothing left from our little coffee shop rendezvous except for the fading, but delicious, memory of Randall the Super-hot Cowboy .
    An all too brief moment passed where we just stared at each other, tied together in some kind of suspended knowingness. Both our faces were painted with the slightest of goofball grins as we each admired the other and took in the feelings of goodness that were raining down upon us from this chance meeting.
    Not being interested in having to kick myself in the ass from now until the end of time for not finding out, I decided I had better act quickly and ask Randall how I could contact him. I started to open my mouth, but he beat me to the punch and began to speak first. “Hey listen. Connor. You have to know that I can’t leave here without telling you that I need to see you again.” He paused briefly—I’m assuming he noticed my eyes widen—collected the rest of his thought, and continued. “And I understand that I am being a hair presumptuous in assuming that my choice of words won’t make you run for the hills, but it’s real important to me that you know that. That I need to see you again.”
    It’s safe to say, even though we had so very obviously connected in a way that felt way more fairy tale than anything I was used to, that I was more than a little gobsmacked by his most recent proclamation. Strangely though—I say strange because I couldn’t imagine anyone else telling me that they needed to see me again after having just met me a few minutes prior and me not thinking they were a little insane in the membrane—I felt something akin to a wave of relief roll over me as I got this confirmation from him that he was feeling the same way I was.
    “Here,” he went on, “take this card.” His hands easily swallowed mine as he held my right hand in his left and placed his card flat on my palm with the other. His hands were now gently, but firmly, cupping my left hand. More shocks of electricity fired through my whole body, this time with even more intensity than before. He did not let go as he continued to speak. “This is my personal contact information. Please use it. It does not matter to me what time of the day or night you may feel so inclined as to make that phone call, but I assure you, whatever time, whatever day, I will answer that call. I am a patient man, Ms. Connor Lyall, so believe me when I tell you this . . . From this moment on, this cowboy will be waiting for you for as long as it