Rugged Hearts Read Online Free PDF Page B

shaft as he imagined her tight wetness. He released a groan, his eyes shooting open to gaze at the crisscrossed beams above him. In his mind, her hands held his face. Her expression was one of bliss as she rode him to completion. “Son of a….” He came, gritting his teeth from the intensity, and sat there exposed and trembling from the event.
    And that was just a fantasy.
    He looked through bleary eyes at the clock and realized it was only eight. After a visit to the bathroom, he checked on Sadie. Still dozing by the fire, she remained oblivious to his erotic dreams. Wyatt ran his hand down his face. He needed to get some perspective. Restless and hoping the frigid air might clear his senses, he slipped on his boots and opened the French doors at the end of the living room. The snow crunched underfoot as he stepped out and sucked in a lungful of night air. Dazed by the intensity of the last few moments, he admonished himself for his lust-filled thoughts. Good Lord, he didn’t even know her name. He stood gazing at the stars, pondering his dilemma until his fingers began to grow numb. Preoccupied by his confusing thoughts, he wandered back inside, picked up the remote, and turned up the volume, watching mindlessly the beautiful woman on the screen. A local truck dealership was attempting to reach the ranchers in the area.
    “Come on down to Lucky’s Dodge Ram blowout, all you cowboys out there.” He found himself not listening to her spiel. Instead, he focused on the color of her tight pink T-shirt and pink cowboy hat instead. The buxom woman smiled. “Try out our new ballbuster mechanical bull, and if you can stay on,” she cooed into the television camera, “I will personally give you a special discount off Lucky’s big selection of year-end trucks.”
    Wyatt blew out a sigh and turned off the perky would-be cowgirl. He needed no reminder of any woman dressed in pink. He had a feeling his dreams were going to hold enough of that already. Searching for something to redirect his thoughts, he picked up a Horse and Supply catalog but quickly tossed it aside as he paced the room. He looked down at his faithful canine and wished for her peaceful slumber. A glance at his watch told him that Rein and Dalton would probably just be getting to dinner with their client, so he couldn’t call them. He spied the computer on Jed’s office desk and remembered he’d planned to check the forecast. With renewed determination to refocus his wayward thoughts, he sat down in the massive leather chair and waited for it to boot up, impatiently drumming his fingers on the polished cherrywood table.
    He checked the weather first and noted a front was passing through overnight and except for frigid temperatures, the forecast didn’t seem to be calling for measurable snow. He surfed the net, idly clicking links and typing in words to the search engine, ultimately ending up at the chamber web site for End of the Line. Linked directly to the town newspaper, he found an ad for nearly every small business in town. The Daily End Times web page gave folks in the outlying mountain towns a chance to read the paper without waiting for rural delivery, which was especially nice when the weather turned ugly, like tonight.
    Wyatt scoured the news, unsure or unwilling to admit—until his eyes lit on the link for the End of the Line public schools—what he was looking for. He clicked on the icon, anxious to find a picture, a name, maybe a contact e-mail, but his quest came to an abrupt halt when he saw the words Under Construction appear at the top of the page. He chewed at the corner of his lip, debating whether his disappointment was the lack of a website or the fact it appeared he was stalking some poor, young second-grade teacher.
    “Get a grip, Wyatt. Did you see the way she looked at you?” he muttered, surfing through the links to take him back to the city council’s main page. “Get your head out of your fantasy, pal,” he chided himself.