Steal Me, Cowboy Read Online Free Page A

cheddar-looking cheese out of the fridge and cut a half dozen slices, and then set about slicing some cherry red peppers paper-thin. He threw six pieces of thick bacon outlined in black pepper on the hot griddle. “Be back in a sec.”
    A couple of minutes later, he came back from the garden with some basil and chives. He was definitely going above and beyond, but then he had bought and paid for that privilege when he decided to be an ass. Yes, this was going to be some grilled cheese sandwich.
    He took a container out of the fridge, opened it so I could see the pasta salad. Yes, please. I nodded.
    “You must be starving. Since you walked through the door, you haven’t checked that phone of yours once or called the tow truck,” he said, “Or your boyfriend.”
    “I told you, I’m surprising him, and if you give me the number of your friend with the tow truck, I’ll call now.”
    “Relax, Carolina, your car’s not going anywhere. Eat your lunch. You can call Dillon later.”
    I tried really hard to disguise how amazing the sandwich was, but the smirk on his face said he knew. “Thank you, Beck, this is really good.”
    “Really good?” he looked like I’d tried to slap the smirk off of his face. But I wasn’t about to tell him how amazing it was, how the bacon and the cheese and the herbs came together. How every bite was like grilled cheese sex, making me want to sigh and beg for more. “Yes, and the salad’s good too.”
    “Must be. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a girl eat so fast. Slow down, you’re on Montana time.” My heart raced when he put another dollop of salad on my plate and started putting together another sandwich. “When’s the last time you ate?”
    “Yesterday, lunch.”
    He looked disgusted for a split second and then put my second sandwich on the griddle. The sound of the butter sizzling made my mouth water. “Why so long?”
    “The kitchen was closed in the little place I stayed at in South Dakota, so I snacked on some Nabs.”
    “Never heard of those. That some kind of South Carolina delicacy?”
    “They’re those little packs of cheese crackers you get at the convenience store. My grandma called them Nabs, I think it’s short for Nabisco.”
    “Must be a South Carolina thing.” He put the sandwich on a plate and then proceeded to eat it himself, pulling the stretchy cheese that was hanging over the side of the bread and letting it slide into his open mouth. Chewing slowly, savoring.
    He looked at me, laughed, and cut his sandwich into two triangles and put the uneaten half on my plate.
    “You were looking at me like I shot your dog. Eat. ” And I did.
    Sometimes when you eat something new and then you order it again, it’s disappointing because part of what made it so good in the first place was the newness. But that wasn’t the way it was with Beck’s cooking. Honestly, he could have taken over the culinary world with his grilled sex sandwiches, and yet he lived out here, away from town. Not in the middle of nowhere, but according to him ten miles from Marietta. I couldn’t tell much about the restaurant from the backside, but if was anything like his home, it was pretty fancy.
    “I was thinking,” he wiped his mouth, “maybe you should call your boyfriend, let him know where you are. That you’re okay.”
    “Why are you so concerned about my boyfriend?”
    “I’m not. I just saying if I were him, I wouldn’t want you driving across the country by yourself. And if you were, I’d want to know you were okay. It’s not safe.
    No shit. “I’m fine, besides that would spoil the surprise.”
    “What if the wrong person had come along?” He leveled me with a Derrick Morgan look.
    “I can take care of myself.”
    He shrugged, jotted down a phone number , and pushed it across the table. “The number for the tow truck. His name is Dillon.”
    I took my pink phone out of my bag, went into a room at the end of the hallway that looked like an office and dialed