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The Cowboy's Destiny
Destiny’s head jerked as if he’d slapped her with an insult. “You may not think Lizard Gulch is special, but the people who live here do.” She removed a rag from her pocket and wiped her hands hard enough to peel off a layer of skin.
“Guess it’s a female thing—attaching emotional significance to a place.”
“You mean you have no sentimental feelings about the pecan farm you grew up on?”
Sensing their conversation agitated Destiny, he sought to avoid an argument. “I have fond memories of chasing my brothers through the pecan groves, but when I think of home, its family that matters most—not the orchards.”
Her expression softened. “When was the last time you were home?”
“A couple of months.”
“Have you been riding the circuit all this time, or do you have a second place you use as a home base between rodeos?”
“Is that a polite way of asking if I have a lady friend I shack up with when I’m on the road?” He chuckled at the pink flush that spread across her cheeks. “I don’t.”
“What about when you’re not on the road?” She looked him square in the eye.
Like wavy heat lines hovering over hot asphalt, sexual tension sizzled between them. This wasn’t the first time he’d felt Destiny’s attraction to him. Yesterday she hadn’t taken her eyes off him at the pool party. And when he’d shown up at the garage earlier this morning, she’d stared at his mouth and licked her lips when he’d asked her how she’d slept the night before.
“I stay at the farm when I’m not rodeoing.” He watched her carefully, but her neutral expression left him guessing at her thoughts. “May I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“Is there a chance that you and Daryl might work things out?” If she had feelings for the runaway groom, Buck would call her out on the axel prank and leave Lizard Gulch sooner rather than later.
“No.”
There hadn’t been a flicker of doubt in her eyes when she’d answered him. “Positive?”
“Daryl and I never would have made it as a couple.”
Now that he was confident Destiny was over Daryl, he wasn’t sure what to do about his interest in her. He wasn’t looking for a serious relationship. In truth, he didn’t know what he wanted, except that he wasn’t ready to go back to Stagecoach. “The oil has probably drained out by now.”
His comment spurred her into action, and he watched with admiration as she added new oil to the engine and changed the air and cabin filters. “For a girl, you’re good at car maintenance.”
“How would you know?”
Caught in his own lie, he grinned. “I don’t. You make everything look easy.”
“I can teach you how to change the air filter,” she said.
No thanks. “Do you have any other car work to do this afternoon?”
“This is it. Why?”
“Wanna go for a joyride in the desert?”
She laughed. “I’m guessing you want to test out my hog.”
“I’d love to drive your bike.”
“Have you ever handled a motorcycle before?”
“My brother owned a beat-up Harley in high school, and he let me use it on occasion.”
“What kind of Harley?”
“I don’t know. It was a lot smaller than the one you ride, and it sure didn’t have a badass engine like yours has.”
“Okay. I’ll show you the boundaries of the town and where the developer wants to build the golf course.” She carried the oil pan into the garage and Buck followed with the toolbox. “I need to change clothes,” she said.
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