LITMIR.BIZ

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audience gave out a collective gasp as Colton narrowly avoided the bull’s horns before climbing the rungs of the gate to safety. Together, the rodeo clown and outriders corralled the bull back to the stockyard, resulting in a cheer from the crowd and a hat wave from Colton.

      “My, my,” Jazz whispered in her ear. “That man must get your juices flowing.”

      Ash turned to her friend. “Colton knows how to put on a show.”

      “Yeah.” Jasmine’s eyes were aglow with admiration. “He’s something else.”

      Really?

      So now Jazz was seduced by Colton’s manly displays? Because that was what it was, right? A display. An egotistical need for attention. Why else would someone willingly climb on to the back of an angry animal and risk their life for all and sundry to witness?

      “Listen,” Jazz said. “I know you’ve got to stick around and take pictures, and I overheard you’ve got plans with Colton, so I’m going to head back to the fairgrounds and visit with some people. Catch up at the saloon tonight?”

      “Yeah. Sure.”

      Jasmine reached for her hands and squeezed. “You are one lucky girl.”

      “Thanks,” Ash said softly.

      Lucky? Ashley didn’t feel lucky.

      More like one of the calves in the roping contest. In way over her head and about to be taken down and humiliated for all to see.

      * * *

      ASHLEY LEANED AGAINST the gate, wishing she hadn’t cut off her jeans so that she could wipe her damp palms down the front. She gave herself a mental shake. This was stupid. Why did she feel nervous?

      Because you have no idea what Colton wants from you.

      True.

      So, what would it be? A challenge? A dare? Something menial? Something sexual...?

      Her tummy tightened at the thought.

      And not in a bad way.

      Shit!

      “Heya, Ashley.”

      Ash spun around. Colton was there with the sun at his back, his hat pulled low so that his face was left in shadow.

      “Colton.” She cleared her throat. “Good ride today.”

      “Thanks. Ol’ Yeller was sufficiently ornery.”

      “That the bull?”

      “Yep. That was a lucky draw on my part.”

      “Why’s that?”

      “The tougher the bull, the higher the score if you make it to eight.”

      Ashley nodded. Being one of five sisters who lived in town meant she really didn’t know all that much about the rules of the rodeo.

      “So, what do I owe you for that overt display of affection by the announcer’s stage?”

      “Wow. Right down to business, huh?” He pushed his hat back, so she could see his face. His eyes sparkled irreverently.

      Good God.

      “It’s a busy weekend.” Ash indicated her camera. “So the quicker we figure it out, the quicker I can get back to work.”

      Colton’s lips twisted. “All right. Show me your hands.”

      “Huh?”

      He reached halfway across, holding his hands palms up. “Let’s see them.”

      Hesitantly, Ash placed her hands in his. She was amazed by how small they looked. He rubbed his thumbs over her knuckles and then turned them over, palms up.

      “They’re nice. Are you strong?”

      Snatching her hands away, she formed a fist and punched him on the shoulder. It was total instinct, and it took her a moment to realize what she’d done.

      He chuckled. “Nice jab. Okay, let’s go.” He held his hand out as if to shake. “Take my hand.”

      “Why?”

      “Thumb war, darlin’.”

      “What? You mean, if I beat you in a thumb war, we’re square?”

      “No,” he scoffed. “It’s a test. You ready? Set...”

      “What kind of—”

      He didn’t let her finish. Before saying “go,” Colton twisted her hand, captured her thumb with his and pinned it down.

      “You cheated.”

      “So?”

      She squinted up at him, her thumb still trapped beneath his. “One more.”

      “Fine.” He released her thumb but still held her hand in ready position, though his pinky finger tickled the inside of her wrist, distracting her. “Ready...”

      “Go.” She dodged his big thumb with quick movements before managing to get on top of him. “Gotcha!”

      So what if it was only for, like, a millisecond? She dropped his hand before he could slip out and beat her.

      “Best of three,” he said, his voice low, though his dark eyes twinkled dangerously.

      The third time was an all-out battle, not just between hands and thumbs but their whole bodies. Ash tried to block him with her back so he couldn’t see what he was doing, which only resulted in him tripping her—gently—and lowering her to the grass.

      “What the...”

      He settled his weight on top of her, holding her hand above her head, continuing to wrestle with her thumb while she attempted—unsuccessfully—to wrestle him off her body. What she did manage to do, however, was experience the wonderful weight of Colton on top of her: his legs twining between hers, his pelvis flush with hers.

      Wait.

      What was that?

      Was he aroused?

      The idea that Colton Cross had a hard-on because he was wrestling with her had the opposite effect of what she would have thought. There was not one part of her that felt incensed. On the contrary, Ashley fought an instinctual need to grind her pelvis up into him. More, to spread her legs and let him settle that steely part of him right along the seam of her shorts. She was so taken by surprise by her body’s response to his arousal, she forgot completely about what was happening between their hands.

      “That does it.”

      Colton claimed his victory by slowly pushing himself to his feet and extending his hand to help her up.

      Of course she ignored it. Dusting herself off, Ashley steadied her features, determined not to show how much she’d enjoyed the impromptu wrestling match.

      “You going to tell me what that was all about?” she asked, hand propped on her hip, gaze avoiding his.

      “I just needed to make sure you’re strong enough.”

      “Strong enough for what?”

      “You’ll find out. Come on.”

      Colton strode toward the parking lot on the other side of the stockyard, forcing Ashley to run to keep up.

      “Strong enough for what?” she repeated as she raced after him. “And where the hell are we going?” He wasn’t going to make her ride a bull or something, was he?

      No. Maybe a cow. That would be appropriately humiliating.

      Colton didn’t stop until he reached his Dodge Ram 4x4, which Ashley knew was his by the sound of the doors being unlocked by a fob.

      Turning, he waited for her, resting his fists on his hips. “See, after a ride, I’m always sore. I usually

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