Kissed by a Cowboy. Pamela Britton
look at them earlier, but then he’d spotted the kid riding the gelding...
He turned back to Jillian. She sure was cute, especially standing there, branches from a nearby tree sifting sunlight onto her hair and throwing dappled patterns on her shoulders.
“I see your point, and I’m glad you spoke up. I’m still interested in the horse, but I’ll be watching him more closely from here on out.”
“Suit yourself, but I’m telling you, you’ll be sorry if you end up buying him.” She bent and scratched Cowboy again.
“Duly noted.”
“Your dog knows I’m right, too.”
“Yeah?” Cowboy whined. When Wes looked down, he was chagrined to realize his dog sat at Jillian’s feet.
“Dogs have a sixth sense about other animals. They know when they’re bad. You ever watch a cattle dog run up to the rankest bull in the herd? They just know, and they step in to protect their master.”
“If you say so.”
“One more thing,” she said. “If you want your dog to stop chewing your boots, give him something else—like a pig ear or a cow bone. He’s never going to stop on his own.”
Wes jerked upright.
“What makes you think he likes to chew my boots?”
“Another gut feeling.”
He didn’t move for a second. Could she see the chew marks along the top? No, she couldn’t see them.
“Lucky guess.”
She must have realized she wasn’t going to get anywhere with him, because she nodded. “Just do me a favor. Stay away from that horse. He’s a bad one.”
“Duly noted.”
She turned away. He watched her for a moment before doing the same. Crazy. The whole thing was crazy.
“By the way,” he heard her call, “Cowboy strikes me as the type that likes to bury things, so if you’re missing a boot, check for fresh piles of dirt.”
He almost stumbled. She was looking over her shoulder, a wicked smile on her face. How did she know about that—?
She started walking backward, thumbs hooked in her jeans. “But that was probably just a lucky guess, too, huh?”
She turned away before he could respond, which was probably a good thing because she’d done something a woman hadn’t done to him in a long time.
She’d rendered him completely speechless.
Typical male, Jillian thought as she took her time walking back to the show arena. You had to slap them in the face with the truth before they believed you.
Story of her life.
If he had a hard time believing she had a sixth sense, then he’d really freak out when he discovered the truth. Still, he’d seemed nice, she thought as she reached the interior of the massive enclosed arena, the sound of Gene Robertson, this year’s clinician, droning on in the background. Oh, damn. She’d wanted to watch that. That was what she got for dillydallying outside.
“There you are,” said one of her closest friends, Natalie Goodman, a blonde spitfire who had every cowboy within twenty yards looking their way. Thanks to her trim figure, bright blue eyes and generous smile, men didn’t know what hit them when she looked in their direction.
“I was out talking to Wes Landon.” She took a seat on the aluminum bleachers that stretched along one side of the arena. Her backside instantly chilled. It was the end of January and if you weren’t out in the sunlight, you froze half to death.
“Landon, Landon,” Natalie was saying. “Why does that name sound so familiar?”
“Zach’s friend. The one who races horses, only he tells me he isn’t the one who breeds them or owns them. He just manages his mom’s farm.”
“That Wes,” Natalie said, focusing on the man on horseback. He spoke about the shape of a horse’s shoulder and its importance when it came to clearing obstacles, something that Natalie should have been speaking to the crowd about. Natalie was a shoo-in for this year’s equestrian games in show jumping. As long as they could keep her primary mount, Nero, sound, she’d be representing the United States of America.
“Was he as good-looking as Mariah claims?”
“He’s not bad.”
More like drop-dead gorgeous with his blond hair and green eyes. He had the looks of a movie star. She frowned because that was something she knew firsthand.
Negative energy. Focus on the positive.
“Not bad?” Natalie repeated, blond brow arched over an almond-shaped eye.
“Okay, fine. He’s pretty hot.”
No sense in denying it. Natalie would see for herself one day soon.
“Wow, that’s pretty high praise coming from a woman who dated Jason Brown.”
“Shh,” she hissed, glancing around. She had no idea why. It wasn’t as if there were members of the paparazzi nearby. Those days were long behind her.
“What? I think it’s kind of cool that you dated People magazine’s sexiest man alive.”
“Yeah, well, they didn’t know him like I did.”
He’d called her because he’d been having problems with his Arabian stallion. She should have known right then that he was an idiot because only egotistical jerks owned stallions if they weren’t in the breeding business. But no, she’d accepted the job, figured out the problem and ended up getting asked out on a date, and he was just so dang handsome and sweet that she’d said yes. And then yes again. Only he’d turned out to be nothing like the men he portrayed on-screen. He wasn’t a sweetly sexy hometown boy. He was an ass who’d broken her heart.
“...don’t you think?”
Jillian shook her head. That was all in the past. A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away...
“What?” she had to ask.
“I said you should probably answer your cell phone, don’t you think?”
Jillian jumped, then fished into her back pocket for her phone and as she glanced down at the unfamiliar number, she knew—she just knew.
“It’s him.”
Sometimes her abilities extended beyond the animal kingdom.
“Him who?”
“Wes Landon.”
Natalie smirked. “That was quick.”
“Yeah.”
She ignored the voice of reason, the one that told her to ignore him because he was just a little too good-looking. It would be easy to forget the rules around him.
Her finger had a mind of its own. “Hello?”
“You ran away before you could give me your phone number.”
She wanted to grin like a silly teenage girl. What a doofus. She had sworn off men after Jason had left her shattered.
She glanced left. Natalie stared, her expression one of clear interest.
“You never indicated you wanted it,” she admitted. “Not that I was surprised. You know, me being a crazy woman and all.”
Next to her, Natalie broke into a wide smile.
“Come to think of it, how did you get my number?”
“Mariah.”