Cowboy Up. Vicki Thompson Lewis

doing it? She’d never made out in the bed of a pickup, but she wouldn’t mind giving it a try with Clay.

      By the time she pulled into the shadowed interior of the tractor barn, her hormones were dancing to a hip-hop beat and her noble intentions had taken a hike up the trail into the Grand Tetons. To hell with an uncomfortable truck bed. Her BMW was a four-passenger with a backseat, and she was ready to invite Clay to join her there. But that was such a bad idea.

      Gripping the leather-wrapped steering wheel, she closed her eyes and willed herself back to sanity. She’d driven here to celebrate her dad’s sixtieth birthday, a major milestone. She would not muck it up by having sex with his protégé, no matter how yummy the guy was.

      “Are you okay?”

      She opened her eyes to find Mr. Yummy himself standing next to the driver’s side of the car, his hat pushed back and his dark eyes filed with concern. For a split second she pictured telling him exactly what was on her mind, which involved getting naked and then squirming around on the warm leather upholstery of her car.

      The tractor barn seemed empty of people other than the two of them, and if she’d judged their chemistry correctly, the event would be over in minutes with very little chance they’d be discovered in flagrante delicto. Of course, she wasn’t figuring in birth control as part of this fantasy, and she didn’t think Clay was the sort to be packing.

      With a deep sigh, she gave up the whole concept. “I’m fine. The transition from the heat to the shade made me a little dizzy, is all.”

      He opened the car door for her and stood back. “You don’t have to help me load the tables and benches. In fact, you don’t have to help do any of this. I’ll be back in a couple of hours and we can go riding then, if you still feel up to it.”

      “I want to help.” She climbed out of the car and moved a safe distance away from him. As she’d suspected, they were very much alone in the cool and cavernous tractor barn.

      “After all, this party is for my dad.” She decided not to look directly at him and risk more eye contact. She was already on edge, and sexual tension wound tighter with every second they stood together inside the deserted barn. “Let’s get started.”

      “Okay.” His voice was suspiciously gruff. “You’ll need these.”

      She had to look at him to find out what he meant by these. He was frowning as he held out a pair of leather work gloves.

      That’s when it occurred to her that he might not want to take her with him. She’d invited herself along, and with Sarah and Emmett jumping in to second the idea, he hadn’t had much choice.

      She didn’t take the gloves. “Maybe I shouldn’t go with you, after all. I don’t know the routine and I might get in your way.”

      “But you said you wanted to.”

      “I know, but this isn’t all about me. If my going will complicate things, then—”

      “Take the gloves.” His tone gentled. “I could use the help.”

      She hesitated a moment longer, and then decided that she really did want to be a part of setting up the party for her father. “All right. Thanks.” She took the gloves and pulled them on. They were huge on her. Laughing, she held up both hands. “Look, Minnie Mouse.”

      He smiled. “Sorry. That’s all I could find.”

      Instantly she was contrite. “I’m not complaining. I think it’s sweet that you thought to give me gloves in the first place. They’ll work fine.” That’s when she made the mistake of looking into his eyes, and the air went out of her lungs.

      Oh…dear…God. She hadn’t seen heat like that in…maybe she’d never seen heat like that. It was a wonder she didn’t go up in flames. Parts of her felt as if they might combust at any moment.

      Muttering a swear word under his breath, he dropped his gaze. “This is no good,” he said, his voice husky.

      “You’re right. I won’t go.” She took off the gloves and held them out.

      He lifted his head and looked at her. “That’s not right, either.”

      “Sure it is.” She shook the gloves. “Take these back, and I’ll just go on up to the house.”

      He stared at the gloves. Then, with another muttered oath, he took them and tossed them into the front seat of her car.

      “What on earth are you doing?”

      “Making a mistake.” He grasped both her wrists and drew her toward him.

      She should have resisted. She didn’t. Her heart beating furiously, she gulped as the distance between them grew smaller. “You don’t want to do this.”

      “Oh, yes, I do.” Releasing his hold on her wrist, he took off his hat. That went into the front seat, too, followed by her hat.

      “But you said it’s no good.” She began to tremble.

      “It isn’t.” Sliding his hand around her waist, he pulled her into his arms. “Tell me to stop and I’ll stop.”

      She couldn’t believe any woman on the planet had that kind of willpower, especially when said woman had fantasized about the body she was now plastered against. Gazing into dark eyes that promised a thousand delights, she wanted every single one. She spread her hands over his muscled chest and felt his quick intake of breath and the staccato beat of his heart.