His Small-Town Sweetheart

Her voice had that what-are-you-doing tone to it when she said, “Sam.”

He sighed. Was it possible for Nicole to stay quiet for longer than a minute? At least give him long enough to calm the throbbing inside. Ninety-six.

“Am I going to have to hose myself down?”

When he looked at her, she had exactly the stance he imagined she’d have. One hand on her hip and one hand holding her shirt together. The only thing missing was a tapping foot. She still looked tempting as hell.

This was ridiculous. He took a deep breath and raced through the numbers until he reached a hundred. A grown man should be able to be near an attractive woman without thinking of her in a sexual way. Obviously he needed to work on growing up more. He held the hose out to her, not trusting himself to keep from making a fool out of himself. Besides, the cold water would do him good. “Maybe you should hose me down first.”

She buttoned her middle button, leaving way too much skin showing for his comfort, and then grabbed the hose from him. The water formed a muddy area in the grass. She screwed up her face, and he knew she was going to argue with him. Nothing was ever easy with Nicole. “Are you sure about this? I could turn around, and you could take off your clothes, and then I can—”

“Just do it, Nicole.” He bit out the words from between his clenched teeth.

She held the hose up and smiled a little too gleefully. “If you insist.”

She pressed her thumb over the spout and created a spray. The water was cool as it hit his chest and soaked through his shirt. It didn’t do much to cool the burning desire within him, but it was better than nothing.

“Turn around and I’ll get your back,” Nicole said loudly over the sound of splattering mud and water.

He turned, and the ice-cold water soaked the back of his shirt and denims. As the water started to weigh down his jeans, he realized he hadn’t thought this through. His jeans would be near impossible to get off wet, but it wasn’t as if he could throw them in the wash covered in mud. And he wasn’t about to take them off here with Nicole watching. She’d realize how much she affected him. Cold water or not.

“Take off your shirt.”

“What?” He turned and got a face full of water.

“Oops.” Laughing, she lowered the hose and held up her hands. “I swear I didn’t mean to do that.”

Her smile had that little hint of mischief in it. He wasn’t sure if she’d meant to spray him in the face or not.

“I’m not sure I believe that,” he mumbled as he swiped the water from his face. He wasn’t in any condition to get retribution without acting on the latent desire burning in his veins.

“Take off your shirt and I’ll get your head.” She tossed the hose between her hands like a gunslinger and kept that grin on her face.

“You already got me in the face.” He started unbuttoning his shirt. “Not sure what you need me to take off my soggy, dirty shirt for. It’s not like it could get much dirtier.”

“Your hair is filled with dried mud. It’d be a lot easier to get the back of it without your collar in the way.” That was way too reasonable for Nicole.

He narrowed his eyes at her. She was up to something. He just didn’t know what yet. Even though the water was cold, the air was still hot. Getting out of his shirt seemed like a good plan to cool down his body from the heat of the day and the heat of his desire for Nicole.

He turned his back to her as he shrugged out of his shirt and tossed it over to the porch. “Hit me.”

A second passed and then another, but no blast of cold hit him. Just when he was going to turn around to ask her about it, she cleared her throat.

“Sure.” Her voice was a little higher in pitch, but before he could turn around to figure out what she was thinking, a blast of cold water hit the back of his head.

Mud started to streak down his face. “Hold up!”

The water retreated. “What?”

He looked over his shoulder at her and raised his eyebrow, dislodging some mud in the process so that it ran down his cheek.

“What, you can’t handle a little mud in your eyes?”

“No, and I don’t care for it in my mouth, either.”

Giggling, she glanced around the yard.

“Okay, new plan.” Nicole walked toward him. She pointed over to a stump from the tree he had cut down last year. “Sit down. You really are too tall, you know. You should have stopped growing at least a foot ago. It would make you so much easier to deal with.”

“You mean you could get your way easier?” He wasn’t sure where that had come from. He wasn’t normally someone who teased people. But Nicole wasn’t some people. She talked whenever he stopped and ordered him around as if she had some right to. When they’d been kids, she’d always been the boss. Whether she was the king—because queen was too feminine for the tomboy Nicole had been—or the head cowboy, Nicole had been determined to have her way. Back then, he’d been more than happy to let her lead him around. Now...he wasn’t so sure.

He kept his back to her but glanced her way.

“Exactly. If you didn’t practice lifting cows every day and grow to an impractical height, it would be a lot easier to make you do my bidding.” She closed the distance between them and squinted up at him. “If I’d known you were going to get so tall, I would have kept growing.”

He smiled over his shoulder at her. “Like you had a choice in the matter.”

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