Guardian Cowboy. Carla Cassidy

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       Chapter 2

      Janis couldn’t help the bouts of laughter that overtook her throughout the course of the day. Each time she thought of the stunned look on Sawyer’s face when he’d first awakened, she got the giggles.

      His copper-colored eyes had radiated a quiet panic as he’d maneuvered the morning conversation in a way for her not to know he had no memory of them having sex.

      Of course he had no memory. Absolutely nothing had happened between them. He had slept soundly through the night while sleep had remained elusive for her because she’d been so acutely aware of him next to her in the bed.

      His scent had surrounded her and she’d tried to match her breathing to his. She’d wondered what it would really be like to make love with him.

      What she’d done to him was wrong on so many levels, but, if given the same opportunity, she would do it again. What if another woman had gotten him to go home with her while he’d been blindly drunk?

      It would be easy to lift his wallet or to make him believe he was a baby daddy or to kill him when he was in that kind of condition.

      No hint of laughter left her lips as she thought of all the bad things that could happen to him. He was lucky his fellow cowboys babysat him when he passed out. But he was a grown man and shouldn’t have to rely on the kindness of others to see him home safe and sound.

      She’d tell him the truth tonight over dinner. She had no idea how he would react. It was possible her little ploy would make him so angry he’d never speak to her again. Hopefully, he’d take it all in good humor and see that the intent behind it was good and she’d meant him no harm.

      Still, her heart raced as she dressed for the evening out. Was it beating more frantically because she didn’t know what to expect from him when she told him the truth? Or was the quickened rhythm because she was finally going to spend some quality time with the man she’d had an interest in for so long?

      Dinner at the café wasn’t exactly a formal affair, so she pulled on a pair of jeans and topped them with a coral-colored sweater she knew complemented her chin-length brown hair and brown eyes.

      At five to six that evening she stood at the window next to the door with her coat in hand. March had definitely roared in like a lion, hanging on to the cold and blustery winds of winter.

      She was ready for spring, with warm breezes and the scent of new grass and flowers in the air. A smile touched her lips as a memory of her father jumped into her mind.

      Her father had loved spring, too. One day, when she was about ten years old, he’d pulled her out of the house and onto the front lawn. Together they had stretched out on the ground. “Listen,” he’d said.

      “What am I listening to?” she’d asked.

      “The earth’s heartbeat,” he’d replied. “Sometimes it’s just nice to be quiet and listen.”

      A sharp pain of grief pierced through her heart. Her dad had died of a heart attack when Janis was sixteen. That was the day every ounce of love had been taken from Janis’s world.

      The pain was vanquished by the sight of Sawyer’s truck pulling into the small parking lot.

      Her heart began to beat with the anticipation and excitement of the evening to come in his company.

      Before he could get out of the truck, she pulled on her coat and stepped outside the door. She ran to the passenger door and got in.

      “Hi,” she greeted cheerfully.

      “Hi, yourself,” he replied. “You know, I would have walked up to your door to get you like a proper gentleman if you hadn’t run out so quickly.” He pulled out of the parking area behind the bar and onto Main Street.

      “There was no reason for you to get out in the cold,” she replied. The interior of the truck smelled pleasant and masculine, with hints of rich leather and his woodsy cologne.

      “Are you hungry?” he asked.

      “I’m starving. What about you?”

      “I can always eat, but tonight was a good night to head to the café instead of eating at the ranch. Cookie made meatloaf and I’m not particularly partial to it.”

      “What’s your favorite meal?”

      She noted how his stiff shoulders began to relax as the conversation remained light and easy. The poor man was probably afraid she was going to bring up last night. She didn’t intend to even mention it until the end of this night when she’d tell him the truth.

      “As СКАЧАТЬ