Too Hot to Handle

God, he was so cute. No matter what he said about not being a real cowboy, he had that modest chivalry she associated with movie cowboys. And that steadiness. That self-possessed silence.

She snuck a look at him as they walked toward her car, noting how much taller he was than her. Four or five inches, maybe. She’d never been with a guy as tall as Shane was, but, then again, she’d never been with most types of guys. Two men did not make a control group.

Regardless, she was intrigued by him. His height and strength, the scarred hands and blunt fingers. What would it feel like to be held by him, to be taken? What would it feel like to be up against a wall with this man’s body pressed against her? With those rough, strong hands sliding up her shirt? Would he—?

When he glanced at her, Merry almost melted in sheer embarrassment. They were friends. Maybe just acquaintances. If he knew she was having those kinds of thoughts about him, he’d likely recoil in horror and find a way to never be alone with her again.

“Everything all right?” he asked.

“Sure!” she chirped. “I’m excited.” Excited. Right. “I mean…I can’t wait to finish the brochure layout tonight!”

“Well, I can’t wait to see it.”

“Great!”

She was excited about the brochure. But she was also excited about something very different. Something she hadn’t felt in a very long time. Hopefully the layout wouldn’t be her best work of the night.

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