So here she was, shy as
ever, but trying to act bold, approaching and standing beside a hot stranger in
a red shirt and snug-fitting jeans. All the while hoping and praying he was the
correct cowboy – the one her best friend had told her about.
Mia snuck a peek at the
cowboy out of the corner of her eye. If this was the right guy – Hunter or
Trapper or whatever the heck his name was, Skye was definitely right about the
hot part. A hard-bodied, good-looking guy from boots to hat – dark hair,
sun-browned skin, big, strong-boned hands, and the casual, confident grace particular
to active, physically-fit young men. Mia, who was nineteen, guessed him to be a
couple years older.
For several minutes she continued
to stare into the pen of horses. She wanted to bolt in self-conscious panic from
the cowboy’s good looks, confident air, and uncertain identity. But she held
her ground, waiting for him to say something.
Anything.
Moment after long moment
drug by.
Please, say something.
She’d about given up on him
ever speaking, and was preparing to leave the wafting dust, and the silent
cowboy to seek refuge with Skye and Justin, when suddenly he spoke, startling
her.
“What do you think?” his
voice was pitched in an impossibly low octave.
“Oh,” Mia said, turning to
face him. “Were you talking to me?”
“Uh-huh,” he said, drawing
out the two syllables, making them sound way sexier than necessary – not that
Mia minded. “What do you think of the horses?”
His voice was deep, raw,
amber honey. She could listen to it for hours.
Bet it would sound amazing
with my head pressed against his chest.
But she couldn’t just stand
there daydreaming. He’d asked her a question – it was her turn to speak. If I
don’t answer he’ll probably think I’m either stuck up, simple minded, or both. Although
her tongue felt tangled and knotted and dry, she needed to form words. She
willed her tongue to move, her lips to function.
“Beautiful animals,” she finally
managed. “But some look really wild.” Beautiful. Wild. Like you, maybe.
“Yep,” he said with a slow,
sultry grin. “Exactly.”
Goose bumps skittered along Mia’s
arms and chest.
“I hope to draw one of the
wild ones,” he said.
“Why?” A shudder of fear
shot up her back. Whether it was fear of
him, or fear for him, she wasn’t
certain.
“Because I’d have a better
chance of scoring a good ride, of course.”
“Oh.” Mia said, “I see.” But
she didn’t want to see. Didn’t want the black-and-white shuttering image of a
rogue horse launching this beautiful man through the air.
~Author Bio~
Danita Cahill is an
award-winning freelance writer and photographer. She’s written and published
over 2,100 newspaper articles and columns for 11 different Northwest
newspapers, and dozens of magazine stories and photo layouts for six different
magazines. She has five stories and a photo in two of HCI’s anthologies and has
self-published five books – two non-fiction and three fiction titles. Danita
lives in the Pacific NW on a small Oregon farm with her family and animals,
including a herd of 10 alpacas. Besides running children to and fro and caring
for her gardens, critters and family, Danita stays busy working on magazine
assignments and her next book projects.
Visit Danita’s author page:
Find Danita on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/DanitaCahill
Follow Danita on Twitter:
@DanitaCahill
If you’d like to subscribe
to Danita Cahill’s newsletter and receive information about book signings,
appearances, and new book releases, please send an email to: danita@centurylink.net and
put “newsletter” in the subject line.
Glad I was out of town last Friday so just read this part today (Wednesday). Only two days until Part Three. I'm rooting for Mia to find this hot cowboy is "the one".
ReplyDeleteThanks for rooting for Mia, Judith!
ReplyDeleteDanita Cahill