Going Cowboy Crazy Read Online Free PDF Page A

turning the sky—and the streaks in her hair—a deep red. She looked small standing so close to the large truck. Small and vulnerable. The image did what the Mexican daydreams couldn’t.
    He released his breath. “Look, I’m not going to hurt you, but I’m not going to let you leave without finding out why you’re impersonating a close friend of mine. So you can either tell me, or Sheriff Winslow.”
    It was a lame threat. The only thing Sheriff Winslow was any good at was bringing his patrol car to the games and turning on his siren and flashing lights when the Bulldogs scored a touchdown. But this woman didn’t know that. Still, she didn’t seem to be in any hurry to follow his orders, either.
    “My car is parked over there,” she said, pointing. “I’ll meet you somewhere.”
    “Not a chance. I wouldn’t trust you as far as little Dusty Ray can spit.”
    She crossed her arms. “Well, I’m not going anyplace with a complete stranger.”
    “Funny, but that didn’t stop you from almost giving me a tonsillectomy,” he said. A blush darkened her pale skin. The shy behavior was so unlike Hope that he almost smiled. Almost. She still needed to do some explaining. “So since we’ve established that we’re well past the stranger stage, it shouldn’t be a problem for you to take a ride with me.”
    “I’m sorry, but I really couldn’t go—”
    Kenny charged out the door with the rest of the town hot on his heels.
    “Hey.” he held out a purse, if that’s what you could call the huge brown leather bag. “Hope forgot her purse.”
    Slate’s gaze ran over the crowd that circled around. “And I guess everyone needed to come with you to give… Hope her purse.”
    “We just wanted to see how things were goin’.” Tyler Jones, who owned the gas station, stepped up.
    “And say good-bye to Hope,” Miguel, the postmaster, piped in.
    There was a chorus of good-byes along with a multitude of invitations to supper.
    Then someone finally yelled what everyone else wanted to. “So what are you gonna do with Hope now, Coach?”
    What he wanted to do was climb up in the truck and haul ass out of there. To go home and watch game film—or better yet, pop in a Kenny Chesney CD and peruse the Internet for pictures of Mexican hot spots. Anything to forget he’d ever met the woman, or tasted her skin, or kissed her soft lips, or stared into her blue eyes. Blue eyes that turned misty as she looked at the smiling faces surrounding them.
    It was that watery, needy look that was the deciding factor.
    “Well, I guess I’m going to do what I should’ve done years ago.” He leaned down and hefted her over one shoulder. She squealed and struggled as the crowd swarmed around them. Then he flipped her up in the seat and climbed in after her.
    “What’s that?” Ms. Murphy, the librarian, asked as she handed him a red high heel through the open window.
    After tossing it to the floor, Slate started the engine. It rumbled so loudly he had to yell to be heard.
    “Take her to bed.”
    The woman next to him released a gasp while poor Ms. Murphy looked like she was about to pass out. Normally, he would’ve apologized for his bad behavior. But normally he didn’t have a beautiful impostor sitting next to him who made him angrier than losing a football game.
    He popped the truck into reverse and backed out, trying his damnedest to pull up mental pictures of waving palm trees, brown-skinned beauties, and strong tequila. But they kept being erased by soft white skin, eyes as blue as a late September sky, and the smell of sun-ripened peaches.
    The town of Bramble, Texas, watched as the truck rumbled over the curb and then took off down the street with the Stars and Stripes, the Lone Star flag, and Buster’s ears flapping in the wind.
    “Isn’t that the sweetest thang?” Twyla pressed a hand to her chest. “Slate and Hope—high school sweethearts together again.”
    “It sure is,” Kenny Gene said. “ ’Course,