A Silver Lining Read Online Free

put extra swagger into the aerobics for her audience. The dance steps were simple, repetitive, making it easy to lose herself in the music. For a moment, the audience disappeared, and she felt free.
    As each tempo changed to match her workout, Heather immediately matched her dance pattern. She could only imagine what it looked like to the men, a girl humping and grinding the air. Sweat started to run down her temples, cleansing her skin. Maybe even cleansing more if she psychoanalyzed herself.
    When the cardio was over, she panted heavily, glad to hear the slower strands of the music that would cool her down. She decided to forgo the abdominal routine, thinking the men couldn't handle any more. They needed to be eased into having her around, to be teased into wanting her to stay. When she shut off the music, she turned around and saw about two dozen men watching her, mouths hanging open.
    "You guys don't get to ogle without participating,” she told them. “Next time you have to join in."
    Most of the cowboys chuckled or had the grace to blush, which she thought was cute. All shuffled out of the arena except for one man who leaned up against the wall, arms and ankles folded in a casual pose.
    Tristan's hat was pushed back on his head, and she could see one eyebrow raised. “It takes nerves to strut that body around a ranch full of horny, hot-blooded men."
    "Like what you see?"
    "I'm not dead or gay,” he replied, uncrossing his legs and pushing himself off the wall.
    "Good to know,” she answered back with a saucy toss of her head. Her ponytail bobbed against her back.
    "Nor am I stupid. Don't let the accent fool you."
    "Hiding a PhD under that Stetson?"
    "Trying to hide my temper."
    "Why? Because you lust for my body? Don't worry, most men do. I'm an aerobics instructor, so I'm used to the leering."
    "Shut the hell up, Heather,” he growled. “Are you trying to get raped?"
    Before she knew what she was doing, her hand flew out to smack him across the cheek. In stunned disbelief, she watched her handprint turn bright red against his tan flesh. He stared at her for a full minute, his lips tight and compressed.
    "That was a little uncalled for,” he said as he rubbed the tender area.
    "A man should never make jokes about something like that."
    "I wasn't. I'm just saying unless you want a lot of unwanted male company, you better put your dancing back in the can."
    "Excuse me, but this is an abandoned arena, and I've been invited to stay here by my grandfather, who is your boss.” She stressed that little reminder.
    "Decided to throw around the name, huh?"
    "No need, Tristan. I'm sure you remember it."
    They stood toe-to-toe, her hands on her hips and his crossed over his chest. It took her a moment to realize an electric charge had sprung up between them, zapping her skin. The feeling surprised her, and she could tell he felt it too, by the way his eyes narrowed and how his body tensed.
    He stood a few inches taller, and this close she could still see the young, good-looking boy from long ago in the handsome man before her. Faint little lines ran from his eyes. Grooves bracketed his mouth. He wore a cowboy hat, of course, a big gray one pulled low upon his forehead. It cast his eyes into shadow. His jaw had a day's worth of whisker stubble that she bet would tickle her bare skin most deliciously. The idea of having him rub up and down her body caused her pulse to jump. She shifted slightly to ease the sudden tension between her thighs.
    "Hey, boss?” came a questioning voice from the doorway, causing Heather to jump slightly. She immediately stepped back from Tristan. “Some of us are gonna try to train that new horse. Want to rope the steer with us?"
    Without taking his gaze off her, Tristan waved his hand. “I'll be right there."
    "Boys will be boys,” she murmured, her voice husky.
    "Ranch work is never done."
    "Then I'll see you tomorrow.” She turned and grabbed her MP3 player, aware of his gaze following her