gaze slipped to the porch of the saloon as he reached for the door. Charlie hopped back as he eased the door open and got out. He stretched his back. Yet again, he found himself turning down a good time. “I’m sorry. I’m beat. I need a shower as soon as possible. And then bed.” He cleared his throat, knowing what he meant by bed and telling himself she couldn’t have any idea.
Her eyes swept down his body. “You are kind of a mess. You look like...”
“I’ve been wrestling cattle in the mud?”
“Something like that.” Her eyes lingered on the mud smeared across his shirt. “So shower and then come play.”
Come play. Jesus, did she say that kind of thing on purpose? “I wish I could.”
“Aw. Are you really too tired?” Her little smirk was a challenge. He wanted to accept it.
He found himself leaning a little closer before remembering that he smelled like horse and mud and sweat. “I’d love to. But after I take a shower, I won’t be able to talk myself into going back out in the cold.”
“Well, I can’t fault that, I guess. But I won’t lie. After the day I had, I’d be willing to dare a lot of discomfort for a drink.”
“Trouble in paradise?” he asked.
Charlie opened her mouth; then her eyes swept down his body again and she shook her head. “All right. I wasn’t exactly wrestling cattle in the mud. I suppose I’ll recover from the office politics.”
“Hell, Charlie. Any redneck can wrestle a cow. Put me in a room with computers and the kind of work you do, and I’d look like a trapped bear.”
A wide smile spread slowly over her face. “I admit, I can’t imagine you dressed in creased pants and sitting at a computer.”
“Aw, shit, darlin’. Nobody can. That’s why I’ll never be anything but a dirty cowboy.”
“Nothing wrong with that,” she purred. “Hard work is a beautiful thing, Walker Pearce. It really is.”
“Jesus, Charlie,” he said, huffing out a shocked laugh.
“Go on and take your shower. Get cleaned up and maybe I’ll take pity on you and bring you a beer later.”
“Ha. I’ll be sure not to still be in a towel, then.”
“Don’t get all dressed up on my account.” With that, she sauntered off toward the saloon, her ass a sweet, swinging demand for attention.
Suddenly, Walker wasn’t half so tired. In fact, he felt like a man who’d just gotten home from a two-week vacation. Or so he assumed. He’d never had more than a few days off at a time, but one thing he’d learned was how to jam a hell of a lot of good time into a quick moment. Maybe he could put that skill to use tonight.
He forgot all about his muddy truck and headed inside.
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