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“If I kiss you, I probably won’t like it.”
Suz winked. “And then what motivation do I have to win the race? I’d just toss you back into the pond for Daisy.”
Cisco drew back, startled. “That wouldn’t be good.”
Suz nodded. “It could be horrible. You could be a wet kisser. Eww.”
“I really don’t think I am.” His ego took a small dent.
“You could be a licky kisser.”
“Pretty sure I’m just right, like Goldilock’s bed,” he said, his ego somewhere down around his boots and flailing like a leaf on the ground in the breeze.
“I don’t know,” Suz said thoughtfully. “Friends don’t let friends kiss friends.”
“I’m not that good of a friend.”
“You really want a kiss, don’t you?”
He perked up at these heartening words that seemed to portend a softening in her stance. “I sure do.”
“Hope you get someone to kiss you one day, then. See you around, Cisco.”
The Twins’
Rodeo Rider
Tina Leonard
TINA LEONARD is a USA TODAY bestselling and award-winning author of more than fifty projects, including several popular mini-series. Known for bad-boy heroes and smart, adventurous heroines, her books have made the USA TODAY, Waldenbooks, Ingram and Nielsen BookScan bestseller lists. Born on a military base, Tina lived in many states before eventually marrying the boy who did her crayon printing for her in the first grade. You can visit her at tinaleonard.com, and follow her on Facebook and Twitter.
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Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Epilogue
Francisco Rodriguez Olivier Grant stared at the very petite, very darling woman dressing him down. Suz Hawthorne giving a man hell was an impressive sight despite her five foot two and a half inch size, due to the streaky blue-in-blond hair, strategically placed cheek studs, a tiny diamond stud in her nose and a miniscule silver loop in her right eyebrow. Though they were small and delicately designed, her tats spoke loudly of her rebel status—a fragile red rose on one wrist, and a beautiful, delicate Celtic cross on the other. When a man adored a woman like he adored Suz, being in her line of fire was enough to nail a man’s boots to the ground—and his boots were nailed down good.
“Here’s the deal, so pay attention.” Suz put her hands on her rounded, feminine hips, guiding his eyes farther down her oh-so-delicious body. Well, he just knew her body would feel delicious—if he could get his hands on it.
“I’m paying close attention.”
“All right. I can’t bring myself to call you Frog like everybody else does. I’ve never seen a man look less frog-like or toadly in my life. There’s nothing amphibious about you, beyond your ability to swim.”
He started to say, “I don’t care what you call me as long as you call me,” then realized that would sound desperate. Or something. “Thanks.”
“Good. I’m glad that’s settled.”
Suz’s brain was a wonder to contemplate,
