Cowboy Heaven Read Online Free

next morning before I could start out.
    In the meantime, I could wash him, feed him, and tuck him into bed.
    Unfortunately, it wouldn’t be my bed he slept in—it would be one of my sons’, or more likely a bed in the bunkhouse—but, hey, it was better than nothing.
    â€œIf you can’t get a ride, I’ll take you there tomorrow myself. Would that be too late?”
    â€œOh, no,” he replied. “I just need to get there before the weekend. I don’t know where I’ll go after that. Maybe I can ride with some other guys. The trouble is I don’t have a horse.”
    That could be a problem for a cowboy if he happened to be more into calf-roping and steer wrestling than he was bronc or bull riding. I glanced pointedly down at the belt buckle—noting that it was indeed a calf-roping medal.
    â€œYou’d be handy at the ranch,” I said with a nod at the buckle. “Our guys are all pretty good, but they’ve never won any competitions.” Of course, a working ranch hand was better all-around than most rodeo cowboys. There wasn’t much call for bull riding on a ranch, but roping required skill and practice as well as talent—and it was useful.
    Tipping his head to one side, he studied me carefully. “Are you offering me a job?”
    This was an even better excuse to keep him around, although if he worked for me, I’d be in continuous heat for the duration of his employment. I wasn’t sure I could keep my hands off him. As it was, my palms were itching for a chance to touch him. I swallowed around the lump forming in my throat. “Maybe. We’re short a man right now. One of the guys has a broken leg and can’t do very much. It would only be temporary, but—”
    â€œIf you could give me a day or so for my feet to heal, I accept.” He said it so quickly I had to wonder just how much money he actually had stuffed in those jeans, if any. “Besides, I think I’d like working for you. I feel like I owe you something.”
    Damn. I really was looking forward to that ride to Jackson Hole. With a fuck every twenty miles, it might turn out to be the high point of my life. Then I remembered he’d never promised me anything of the kind. That particular offer was merely a figment of my horny little imagination.
    â€œYou don’t owe me anything,” I assured him. “Really, you’d be doing me a favor. In fact, you already have.”
    â€œHow’s that? I haven’t done anything for you at all.”
    His quizzical expression nearly made me laugh out loud. “Oh, yes you have. Trust me on this one.”
    I seriously doubted he understood what I meant by that, but he nodded as though he did. “How far did you say it was?”
    â€œAbout another ten miles.” With two fucks at the end of the road, I added silently. Now, if only that were true…
    â€œI’ll keep my boots on, then,” he said. “I might not be able to get them back on if I take them off.”
    â€œYour feet might swell up,” I agreed, thinking that I’d like to see that third leg of his swell up a little. I chuckled to myself. Men really had no idea what women were thinking about most of the time, which was probably a good thing. My adorable cowboy would have run all the way to Jackson Hole if he’d known what had been going on in my head.
    I realized then that I didn’t even know his name. “By the way, my name is Angela McClure. If you’re going to get a paycheck from me, you’d better tell me yours.”
    â€œTroy.” He leaned forward and held out his hand. “Troy Whitmore.”
    I placed my hand in his warm, firm grasp and was instantly lost. When he grinned, I nearly drove the truck into the cottonwood tree as I tried to take the turn too fast. Momentarily blinded by his smile, I’d almost missed it.
    His response to sliding off the seat and onto the floorboards of