Smooth-Talking Cowboy. Maisey Yates

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       CHAPTER SIX

      LUKE WASN’T SURE what to expect when he went to pick Olivia up that evening after work. He had spent a good portion of the day imagining what Olivia Logan considered to be make-your-ex-jealous clothes.

      He was slightly disappointed by the answer to the question.

      It was a floral dress and a pair of leggings, accompanied by a tall pair of boots. Fair enough, he supposed, since it was cold as hell frozen over out there. But as far as he was concerned a little bit of skin wouldn’t have gone amiss. Of course, he had never actually seen Olivia showing any skin, and he imagined it had been a little optimistic to expect she would start now.

      Not that he needed her to expose any skin for him.

      But he was a man, same as any other. Which meant that whatever type of creature he found sexually appealing he enjoyed seeing more of when at all possible.

      He put the truck in Park and got out as Olivia whipped down the front steps of her little cottage, her brown hair a tangle around her face, her skirt blowing up around the top of her legging-clad thighs. All right, even though her legs were covered by that textured, gray wool, he could see the shape of them, and he definitely liked what he saw.

      “You didn’t have to get out of the truck,” she said, clutching her purse and a cranberry-colored sweater to her chest, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear as the wind blew around them, sharp like a knife’s edge.

      “Sure I did, ma’am,” he said, sweeping his black hat off his head and treating her to his most charming smile. “We are on a date, after all, and a gentleman always comes to the door to pick up his date, same as he walks to the door to drop her off.”

      “But this isn’t a real date,” she said, treating him to a very suspicious glare.

      “I have to get into character, kiddo. If you’re going to use me, you need to allow me to be used on my terms. That’s the only way this works.”

      “You’re using me, too,” she pointed out. “So that you can offer on that land. Don’t think I haven’t forgotten.”

      “I like it when you play ruthless, Liv.”

      She sniffed. “Nobody calls me that.”

      “Good. Then it will be my pet name for you. I bet it will drive Bennett crazy.” He grinned, and he couldn’t help but notice that he was driving Olivia a little bit crazy, too. At the moment, she had the appearance of a ruffled wren. If she’d had feathers they most certainly would have been standing on end.

      “Let’s just go,” she said. “I bet everybody’s at the bar already.”

      “Now, here’s a chance for you to learn a little something. Sometimes it’s better to show up late.”

      She blinked, her brown eyes almost comically bland. “Why?”

      He chuckled. “Because it gives space for the imagination. For Bennett’s imagination. For him to imagine all the things we might have been doing in that time we weren’t in the saloon.”

      Her eyes remained blank for a split second, and then suddenly her face turned scarlet. “Oh.”

      “Sometimes taking it slow is the best way to take it.”

      She swallowed visibly, her fingers curling more tightly around her purse. “Right.” She lifted her chin, attempting to look imperious now, which was especially funny with that blush still lingering on her cheeks. “Oh, I suppose we’ve taken it slow enough. And if not, you can drive slow.”

      “No one tells me how to drive my truck,” he said.

      “You’re exasperating,” she said.

      “Sure. But, if I didn’t exasperate you, who would?” He moved along beside her and pressed his palm against her lower back. She stiffened beneath his touch, her shoulders going rigid. “Relax,” he said, leaning in, ignoring the sparks beneath his fingertips. “You have to look like you like it, remember?”

      She nodded wordlessly, and he guided her to the passenger side of his truck, opening the door for her.

      “Another thing a gentleman does,” he said, keeping his voice low.

      He offered her his arm, but she braced herself on the rest inside the passenger door, hauling herself up into the large vehicle and settling into the seat. Primly. As she had done the first time. If someone had told him a couple of days ago that he would have Olivia Logan sitting in his truck two times in one week he would have said they were crazy. But, here she was. Looking no more comfortable today than she had the other day.

      He СКАЧАТЬ