The Discreet Cowboy (Cowboys of Nirvana Book 6) Read Online Free Page A

part of learning to walk again, stabilized his bad leg, and in one swift kick, he struck the door with his good foot. The wood cracked and splintered, the knob popped loudly. His hip hurt like hell and it took him a long second to recover, but the door opened and that was what he’d wanted. Freedom never tasted so sweet. He’d just have to repair the door ASAP, but not until he filled the boss in on what his sister had done.
    The building was dark as he made his way down the hall, using the cane to balance his steps while keeping another hand safely on the knot of the sheet.
    Peering through the door into the empty parking lot, he scrubbed his jaw. The rain was pouring down—had been most of the day—and that meant some of the areas would be muddy. He laid his forehead on the glass and sighed. He didn’t have his Gator so he’d have to walk all the way to his cabin, barefoot and with a cane—on the slippery ground. Why the hell didn’t he ever think ahead? Yet, how the hell was he supposed to know some wicked woman would lock him in a room without his clothes? He should go straight to Chase and tell him that he was resigning as Felicia’s keeper. He was a cowboy, not a manny. She was old enough to take of herself.
    Dade swallowed. No, he couldn’t tell Chase. The mere thought of explaining that Felicia had dumped him—not only dumped him, but had also stolen his clothes—would make him the laughingstock of Nirvana. He’d worked really hard to get past being the ‘naive’ hand who the others liked to tease relentlessly. Most importantly, he planned to never go back to being the target of gags and bantering. Sure, they all meant well. The other hands were more like brothers than co-workers. After Dade’s accident, each of them stepped up and helped, even built a cabin that was handicap accessible. His throat constricted. He wasn’t used to the idea that he’d been handicapped. He certainly had a new respect for those who overcame physical challenges. He’d met many heroes and heroines on his path to recovery and they’d taught him to appreciate life, something he hadn’t thought much about before.
    Dragging his attention back on the problem at hand, he’d get through it, but there was no doubt, not even a sliver, that when he caught up to the little heathen, he’d give her a piece of his mind. He clenched the handle of the cane until he heard the wood crack. Now was not the time to get angry. Now was the time to get smart. Considering she knew that Chase had asked Dade to keep an eye on her, there was no longer any reason to keep his distance from her. He’d be sure from this point on that he and Felicia were hooked, hip-to-hip. Hell, share dinner too. He laughed, feeling a slice of vindication. That’d teach her a lesson. He hadn’t even said more than two words to the woman, and she was driving him batty.
    Outside, he stepped across the wet cement, carefully maneuvering his way through the parking lot with rain drops pounding his hat and stinging his bare back. The sheet slipped and he caught it, managing to wrap the soaked cotton around his body, but using only one hand was a bitch. The material clung to his ass like a diaper and his dick curled up inside of his body. A man never, ever, wanted that to happen.
    Stay focused. He could handle the cold, this was nothing, but the muscles in his injured leg didn’t like the lower temperature and wanted to seize up on him. The weekly therapy and massage sessions were helping though. He no longer needed a walker to get around.
    The pea rocks were like jagged swords stabbing his water-wrinkled feet as he started on the lane toward staff row. He gritted his teeth and continued toward the warmth of his cabin—clothes and boots too.
    He’d just started on the first hill on the road when he heard the low hum of an engine and saw a flash of headlights through the line of pine trees. He stopped and leaned onto the cane, a cramp building in his leg. Should he