Read An Excerpt
FLIRTING WITH TEXAS
General Contemporary Romance, Contemporary Romance
She threw an elbow-shot into the man’s stomach that had Beau sucking in his breath. The driver released her, but before she could make a run for it, a swarm of other carriage drivers came running. With all exits blocked, most people would’ve given up. Blondie wasn’t even fazed. She vaulted up into the driver’s seat of the carriage, took the reins, and shouted a deep-throated “hah!
Beau braced to be thrown on his ass.
Instead, nothing happened.
“Hah!” Blondie continued to slap the reins. But the only movement it generated from Lightning was a flick of his tail.
Her shoulders drooped, and Beau figured she was about to accept defeat when the four boys in baggy shorts raced past. The scent of burning fuses warned Beau, but not quickly enough. The staccato pops of firecrackers went off right next to the horse’s front hooves. The draft horse reared, and Beau was thrown back against the seat. By the time he sat up, the horse was at a full run. Carefully, Beau made his way to the driver’s seat. Blondie wasn’t quite as sassy anymore. She had lost the reins and was hanging on to the side rail for dear life.
Without any guidance, the horse chose his own path. Fortunately for the pedestrians, it was a less populated route. Unfortunately for Beau and Blondie, it wasn’t really a route.
Shrubs and low-hanging branches whacked them in the faces and scratched their arms as the horse charged down a narrow trail. Figuring that the back was safer than the front, Beau lifted the woman off the seat and pulled her down to the cushioned red leather. It didn’t surprise him that she wasn’t exactly happy about being protected. She fought worse than a lassoed steer. Still, after being bested earlier, Beau wasn’t about to let her get the upper hand again. And since he didn’t want to hurt her, it turned into something of a wrestling match.
The woman knew her moves. She tried headlocks, cradles, and Half Nelsons. But Beau hadn’t wrestled in high school for nothing. After only a few moments, he ended up on top with her legs pinned beneath him and her arms held over her head.
The fight fizzled out of her just as the carriage came to a stop. Beau’s hat had come off, and his face was inches from hers. So close, he could see the freckles that sprinkled the bridge of her nose. So close, he could see the starbursts of deep blue in her irises. Her hair had come out of the ponytail and framed her face in long, wheat-colored waves. He had always preferred dark-haired girls, but the cloud of gold looked so soft that he couldn’t help leaning down to rub his cheek against the silky strands. A scent drifted up. A scent he had no trouble distinguishing.
Homemade cherry pie piping hot from the oven.
Suddenly, Beau was hungry.
And not for food.