Read Online Your'e Still the One by Debbi Rawlins - Free Book Online Page B

to the kitchen.”
    She started to shuck off the bulky down number while following him so he wouldn’t have a chance to button up before she got another look. Yes, she was acting like a twelve-year-old. But it was February, and when would she likely see his naked chest again?
    Of course there was a gigantically obvious answer. One that had her blushing by the time he set the casserole on the stainless steel stove and turned to look at her.
    She pretended her arm was caught in the sleeve and twisted away to free herself.
    “Need help?”
    “I think I have it.”
    Ignoring her, he came around and easily slipped the jacket away from her body. If he knew she’d been faking, trying to cover her embarrassment, he didn’t let on. He simply tossed the jacket on a kitchen chair, then brought his attention back to her, running his gaze down the front of the simple green turtleneck she’d tucked into her jeans.
    “Nice job of filling out,” he said, grinning as he leaned back, either for a better look or to duck a slap.
    Rachel relaxed and eyed his chest. “I was thinking the same thing about you.” This time she checked him out without a qualm, and noticed two scars that started between his rib cage, angling down until they disappeared behind the shirt.
    Apparently they made him self-conscious. He pulled the front of his shirt together and started buttoning. “Yeah, I’ve been beat up some. Damn bulls...ornery sons of bitches.” He gave her a crooked smile. “I need a new job.”
    Strange thing for him to say, even if he were joking. According to Trace, Matt was at the top of the heap and bull riders were a different breed of cowboy. They rode until they couldn’t. “You’re okay though, right?”
    “Oh, yeah, it’s nothing. Just ugly.”
    “I didn’t mean the scars.” She touched his hand, and he froze, leaving the last two buttons unfastened. “Which aren’t ugly.” She traced one of the marks with her thumb, only the part that was exposed, feeling him recoil, seeing the ridges of muscle in his belly tense.
    “Rachel,” he murmured, his voice a low uneven rasp. “What are you doing?”
    She wondered how far the scar went, but she didn’t dare reach inside his shirt. Fighting an urge to soothe the marred flesh with kisses, she lifted her gaze to his. “Tell me the truth, Matthew, are you all right?”
    “Yes, I swear.”
    Neither of them looked away. “Isn’t the Houston rodeo in February or March?” she asked, and finally remembered to lower her hand. She didn’t want to—his skin was warm and smooth.... And she could smell the pine soap he’d used. “Trace said you’ve done well there for five consecutive years.”
    “What’s your point?” He seemed tense, and she regretted being responsible.
    “Why are you here and not there?”
    Matt moved back and finished buttoning his shirt. “I can’t make you believe me. But I’m fine. I only pulled out because I have business here. I’m still riding in the Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo later. It’s a benefit for kids.”
    “I do believe you. I do...it’s just that...” She sighed. “I looked you up on Google this morning. There’s a ton of stuff about you online. I couldn’t even make a dent—”
    Exhaling loudly, he moved to the sophisticated silver coffee station that seemed out of place.
    “What? It’s not as if I read your diary.”
    A black mug already sat on the counter, and he took out another one from an upper oak cabinet. “Google, Yahoo, Twitter, all of that stuff boggles my mind. I’m happy just to make sense of my smartphone.”
    “It’s huge and time-consuming, I’ll admit. But I love social networking.”
    “Not me. I’m a simple cowboy.” He poured her coffee, then got cream out of the fridge. “Either I win or lose—why anyone would care about all the other crap, I don’t understand.”
    She’d read a few blogs about his early career he probably would rather see disappear, but nothing really awful so far.