How to Lasso a Cowboy. Christine Wenger

do that, as long as you don’t hurt yourself doing so. How’s that?”

      He grinned and touched her arm. His hand callused from riding, was warm to the touch.

      “It works for me.”

      “Good,” Jenna said, nodding. “Have a good rest.”

      She returned to the kitchen, and while Andy finished his lunch, Jenna busied herself in the kitchen, thinking of her conversation with Dustin. She washed a handful of dishes and put everything away.

      She sighed as remembered that she would have been in Brussels today.

      Just as she closed the refrigerator, she heard a crash and a muffled curse.

      “Stay here, Andy,” Jenna ordered.

      She ran to the guest room, where Dustin was on the floor facedown. Turning his head, he looked up at her, then winced in pain. He was wearing only a pair of white boxers.

      “Are you okay?” Jenna knelt down on the floor next to him. She touched his shoulder and ran her hand over his arm. His skin was tanned and warm to her touch, his body tight and muscled. “Anything broken?”

      “I’m fine,” he said quickly. “Just feeling foolish. I tripped.”

      “Let me help you up, Dustin,” Jenna said. “I don’t see how you can do it alone.”

      Dustin shook his head. “Thanks, but there’s no way you can lift me. I’m too heavy. Just get that chair over by the desk and hold it still. I’ll use that as leverage.”

      She held the chair in place and watched as Dustin slowly raised himself up from the floor, dragging his cast. She couldn’t help noticing the play of arm, shoulder and back muscles as he pivoted onto the bed, tired.

      “Let me cover you up,” she said.

      “Thanks,” he said, avoiding her gaze.

      “Maybe you’ll let me help you more, Dustin. You could have seriously injured yourself.”

      “I’m fine.”

      “Blockhead,” she muttered under her breath.

      “What’s that?”

      “Blanket. I’ll get you a blanket.”

      She found a brightly striped serape and covered Dustin with it, averting her eyes from his too-perfect body and noticing the circles under his eyes instead.

      “Are you willing to admit now that you need my help?” she asked.

      He chuckled. “Nope.”

      She shook her head. “You stubborn … um … ah … bull rider.”

      “Aww … such praise.” His eyes were half-shuttered, but she could still see the twinkling blue hue. “You’re the best, Jenna. I mean it.”

      She’d waited years to hear him say that.

      “Close those blue eyes, cowboy. We’ll talk later.”

      “Can’t wait to catch up. I want to know what you’ve been doing. I want … to know … all about you.”

      He was out. Sleeping. And she was walking on sunshine.

      Maybe Dustin wasn’t Mr. Right. But he might be Mr. Right Now.

      So what was she going to do about it?