Her Cowboy Lover (Pleasure Ridge Ranch) Read Online Free PDF Page B

halfway around the little lake before Connor realized that he didn’t feel any sort of pressure to fill the silence. He glanced at Lily next to him, wondering about the color of her hair, the shade of her eyes, the tone of her skin.
    "Can I ask what you do, back in the real world?" he asked, intensely curious about her. When she didn’t immediately respond, he thought maybe he’d crossed a line. "Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry."
    "No, it’s okay. I’m an artist."
    "Really? I admire people with artistic ability. Though I will say I draw a mean stick figure."
    She laughed. "Maybe you could make that a lucrative second career."
    Yeah, if only there was a market for bad art by broken-down cowboys.
    He squeezed her hand a little tighter as they finished their circuit of the lake. Suddenly, she yelped when something moved in the shrubs, and she edged closer to Connor. Without thinking, he wrapped his arm around her and drew her even closer to his side.
    "It’s okay," he said.
    "I think I’ve had enough of the outdoors tonight," she said but didn’t move away from him.
    He guided her toward the cabin but halted when they reached the bottom of the steps. She looked up at him, and even though he couldn’t make out her facial features, he caught a slight glint in her eyes and imagined he saw a question there.
    "Are you coming in?" she asked.
    "Do you want me to?"
    Though he still couldn’t discern her features, he could tell she was watching him.
    "Yeah, I think I do."
    With a slight nod she probably couldn’t even see, he followed her into the cabin. Whether this night ended up with them just talking or giving the bed a workout, he suddenly thought he’d be okay with either.
    * * * *

     
 
    CHAPTER FIVE
    Once she was back in the dark cabin with Connor, Lily second-guessed the wisdom of inviting him in. What in the world were they going to do in the dark besides have sex?
    "How about I order some dinner?" Connor said as he took a few steps toward the phone.
    Food, eating. That was good. She breathed a quiet sigh of relief. "Sounds great. Get me whatever you think the chef does best, as long as it’s not sushi."
    "Not a fan?"
    "Uh, no. As far as I’m concerned, it goes on the end of a hook as bait."
    Connor barked out a laugh that had her laughing right along with him. A little more of her tension drifted away.
    They made small talk, covering things such as favorite movies, places they’d been, music — she liked indie and he was firmly in the country camp, while they waited for the food delivery. When their dinners arrived, he went to the door to receive it so she didn’t have to. While she watched Connor standing at the door, she realized how relaxed she’d grown while they talked, how easy it was to just hang out with him. And it sort of made her sad that after this week, she’d never talk to him again.
    She shook her head as he strode back across the room toward the table. Even in the dark she could tell their food hadn’t arrived in foam take-out containers. Connor’s steak and her grilled chicken pasta sat protected under metal lids like those used for hotel room service. When Connor slid hers in front of her and lifted the lid, the most delicious scent wafted up to her.
    "That smells awesome," she said.
    "I’ve never heard anyone complain about Andre’s cooking."
    "If it tastes half as good as it smells, I can understand why he doesn’t get any complaints."
    It was, indeed, every bit as good as it smelled. She got so engrossed in enjoying her meal that she forgot to carry on a conversation, forgot that she should really feel awkward with Connor, especially after what had happened between them the previous night. But, miracle of miracles, she didn’t. He’d erased the awkwardness beginning with a simple bouquet of wildflowers.
    "You must be enjoying that food," Connor said, a hint of laughter in his voice.
    "You saying I have a healthy appetite?"
    "No, I would never say something like that to a