Win Me Over (Cowboys of Crested Butte 5) - Page 12

“You aren’t going to turn around, are you?”

“Nope, I’m sure not.”

She shook her head and waited to see if Bullet was joking. When he didn’t make a move, she stood and climbed out around him. “Hell with it,” she muttered, walking in the house, leaving both her towel and Bullet behind her.

Bullet climbed into the warm water and couldn’t stop chuckling. That was a mighty fine-looking ass he watched walk away from him. He couldn’t wait to see the rest of the feisty Miss McCullough.

He leaned back and looked up at the sky. It felt good to be back in Colorado; even if it was damn cold, the welcome was warm.

Lyric, and everyone else, had assured him, before he left Oklahoma, that the Flying R partners would help him and his baby get settled, but he’d been skeptical. It was one thing for the partners to work their schedules around their wives and children; they were mostly family. It was another for them to extend the same courtesy to him. He wasn’t a partner; he was a hand, and he hated relying on other people to make his life work. He needed to figure out how to do this on his own before they got tired of making exceptions and fired him.

He wished he’d grabbed a beer; he sure could use one right now. No matter what Gram told him, he still felt guilty about Callie killing herself, especially since he kept dreaming about her. He closed his eyes again and wished leaving her memory behind him were as easy as it had been to leave Oklahoma.

He jumped when he heard the sliding door open. He must’ve drifted off, which was not too smart in a hot tub.

“You left this inside.”

As Tristan brought the baby monitor closer, he heard Grey crying.

“Shit. Sorry.” Bullet got up.

Tristan turned her head away and held out a towel for him.

“You can look. I don’t mind.”

She didn’t turn around. “Just go take care of your baby.”

“Your eyes still closed?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Just wanted to make sure you weren’t tryin’ to steal a peek at me goin’ inside, like I did of you.”

“Just go.”

“Thanks, darlin’.”

“Not your darlin’.”

“Not yet anyway.” He closed the sliding door behind him.

Underneath the robe Tristan had found in the closet, she wore her usual sleeping attire—sweatpants and a camisole. She’d also thrown a sweatshirt on before she took the baby monitor out to the man in the hot tub. May have been overkill in hindsight.

She’d gotten two glimpses of his nakedness, and every time she closed her eyes, there he was. Of course she looked when he went inside. True to the arrogant bastard form he’d shown thus far, he’d slung the towel over his shoulder instead of wrapping it around his waist.

The curve of his ass alone was enough to make her drool. He was lean and over six feet tall. How much over, she wasn’t sure, but every bit of him was cut. Wide shoulders and strong pecs covered with dark chestnut hair that trailed past his flat six-pack abs…and those arms…how would it feel to be wrapped up in them?

Bullet’s piercing blue eyes were surprisingly warm, and his smile could easily have convinced her to shed her three layers of protection, and climb right back in the hot tub with him.

When he’d rested his hands on the edge of the hot tub, Tristan couldn’t help but notice their strength. Hands of a boxer, her mother had called them.

Her mom had been gone a long time—since Tristan was fifteen—but she still remembered her words. “Marry a man with strong hands, so when he takes yours in his and tells you everything will be okay, you believe it will be.” Her father had strong hands, and she never doubted everything would be okay when he had her hands in his.

The next morning, Tristan pulled the pillow back over her head, hoping for a few more minutes of sleep, but it wasn’t enough to drown out the ruckus above her.

In a house full of ranchers, rough stockers, and toddlers, Tristan guessed everyone had been up for hours. Maybe she would’ve been better off staying at a hotel. That way when she slept in, she wouldn’t feel as guilty.

She pulled out her phone to check the time. Seven? She was feeling guilty about sleeping until seven? She rolled back over and groaned. She’d go for a run, but Liv had warned her yesterday that she should give herself time to adjust to the altitude.

Tags: Heather Slade Cowboys of Crested Butte Romance
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