Macon Tilly has had it with men and their shenanigans -- cowboys, to be exact. Tight butts and hot smiles aren’t enough to get past the lack of a true connection. He’s starting to believe that the man of his dreams, that perfect ranch hand who only has eyes for him, doesn’t exist. What’s a guy to do?
Well, there’s Cornelius “Dane” McDaniel, who shows up on Macon’s doorstep, lost, exhausted, and a little touchy. But also, perfect, from head to toe, inside and out. New to town, Dane is focused on making a good impression at his new job and puts Macon’s “no more cowboys” resolutions to the test. Is Dane too good to be true? Or could he be everything Macon has ever wanted in a partner?
“This place is a gem, really. Sure, it has small-town politics, but we have a ‘live and let live’ policy that works well for everyone, mostly.”
“I hope it stays that way,” Dane said as went back to eating his omelet.
When we finished our meal a while later, he insisted on paying. “This is my ‘thank you’ for all you’ve done for me since I arrived in this town.”
“There’s nothing to thank me for, but I do appreciate it,” I said.
We left the diner together, waving at Maya on our way out. “You goin’ back to work this afternoon?” I asked as we stood next to an older model Ford that belonged to Dane.
“Yeah,” he replied. “I don’t mind the schedule. I rarely got time off at that other outfit, another reason for me to find something different to do. I don’t believe in working myself to death. How’re you supposed to enjoy life if you don’t have any energy left to do it?”
“I have a similar philosophy, and at forty-six, I think I’ve seen enough to realize life is too short to waste on being a workaholic.”
Dane stared at me in surprise. “Forty-six? No fucking way! I thought you were thirty-nine, like me, or younger.”
“You’re sweet. It’s a pain in the ass, because I still get carded at some places since I don’t have any gray hair yet, or crow’s feet. My father’s fault, by the way. He didn’t start to turn gray until his mid-fifties.”
Dane smiled. “It’s not a bad problem to have.” Oh, how his face transformed when he smiled. God.
“I suppose not.” I stepped away from his truck -- and him -- before I did something stupid. “Well, I don’t want to keep you. Thanks again for breakfast, and I’m glad that things are working out for you here, so far.”
He walked toward me, and I kept stepping backward until I hit the side of my truck, which was parked next to his. He stopped just inches away from my chest. “Are we going to continue our conversation about me landing on your doorstep?”
I covered my face with my hands. “Oh God.” I let them fall and breathed in and out, slowly. “Please forget what I said. I don’t want to cause you any discomfort, and after our discussion about being tired of relationships or not being in a rush to…Mm.”
Dane’s lips touched mine and I didn’t have the willpower to push him away. I couldn’t, because he tasted so good and he was so hard everywhere and, damn it, he was really good at kissing. His tongue, Jesus, his tongue did this thing where he made my toes curl in my shoes and I had thought that was only something that happened in books or movies. I was wrong.
My arms went around his neck without thought, fingers tangling in the thick black and silver strands, and I wanted to jump into his arms so badly, I practically vibrated with it. But we were in public and the moan I just released was closer to a porn star than I needed it to be this early on a Saturday morning, in front of the diner. I pulled away slowly, trying to catch my breath, but still not wanting to let go of him completely. When he finally stepped back, I realized I’d been standing on my toes, and I was hard as a rock, something I couldn’t hide since my jeans were very snug. At a glance, I saw he was in the same state arousal.
“I ... what was that?” I asked, trying to get my brain to work through the fog of lust.
“A kiss, Macon. I wanted you to know that I’m attracted to you, too. I hope that’s clear.”
“Crystal.”
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