A Cowboy Comes Home Read Online Free PDF Page A

surprised that I’m not a loser.”
    He paused, but she didn’t know how to respond to that.
    “Though it’s true that I can’t cook,” he allowed with a crooked smile. “I guess I concentrated on the things I was good at and muddled my way through the rest.”
    “With filet mignon and baby potatoes. Poor you.” She kept her tone flippant, but inside she acknowledged he was right. She should stop being so surprised at his accomplishments.
    “It wasn’t always that way,” he told her, tone going more serious. “In the beginning, it was cheap food, a crappy basement suite and two jobs.”
    Then he straightened his spine, squaring his shoulders. “But I was never coming back here. I’d have starved to death before I’d have come back to Wilton with my tail between my legs.”
    She found her heart going out to the teenager he’d been back then. “Was it that bad? Were you in danger of starving?”
    His posture relaxed again. “No real danger. I was young and healthy. Hard work was good for me. And not even the most demanding bosses could hold a candle to Wilton Terrell.”
    She retrieved the knife and scraped the tomato chunks from the wooden cutting board into a glass bowl. “So now, you’re a self-made man.”
    “Impressed?”
    Mandy wasn’t sure how to answer that. Money wasn’t everything. “Are you happy?”
    “Delirious.”
    “You have friends? A social life? A girlfriend?” She turned away, crossing the short space to the stove, removing the tortilla shell, setting it on the stack and switching off the burner. She didn’t want him to see her expression when he started talking about his girlfriend.
    “No girlfriend,” he said from behind.
    “Why not?” she asked without turning.
    “No time, I guess. Never met the right girl.”
    “You should.” She turned back. “Make the time. Meet a nice girl.”
    His expression went thoughtful, and he regarded her with obvious curiosity. “What about you? Why no boyfriend?”
    “Because I’m stuck in the wilds of Colorado ranch country. How am I going to meet a man?”
    “Go to Denver. Buy yourself a pretty dress.”
    She couldn’t help glancing down at her simple T-shirt and faded blue jeans with a twinge of self-consciousness. “You don’t like my clothes?”
    “They’re fine for right now, but we’re not dancing in a club.”
    “I’ve never danced in a real club.” A barn, sure, and at the Weasel in Lyndon, but never in a real club.
    “Seriously?”
    She rolled her eyes at his tone of surprise. “Where would I dance in a club?”
    He moved around the island, blue eyes alight with merriment. “If we were in Chicago, I’d dress you up and show you a good time.”
    “Pretty self-confident, aren’t you?” But her pulse had jumped at the thought of dancing with Caleb.
    He reached out, lifted one of her hands and twirled her in a spin, pulling her against his body to dance her in the two-step across the kitchen. She reflexively followed his smooth lead.
    “Clearly, you’ve been practicing the Chicago nightlife,” she noted.
    “Picture mood lighting and a crowd,” he whispered in her ear.
    “And maybe a band?” she asked, the warmth of his body seeping into her skin, forcing her lungs to work harder to drag in the thickening air.
    “You like country?” he asked. “Blues? Jazz? There are some phenomenal jazz clubs in Chicago.”
    “I’m a country girl,” she responded brightly, desperate to mask her growing arousal.
    “You’d like jazz,” he said with conviction.
    The timer pinged for the simmering chicken, and they both halted. Their gazes met, and their breaths mingled.
    She could see exactly what he was thinking. “No,” she whispered huskily, even though she was definitely feeling it, too. They were not going to let this attraction go over the edge to a kiss.
    “Yes,” he responded, his fingertips flexing against the small of her back. “But not right now.”
    Caleb had known it was only a matter of time before