Chantilly’s Cowboy Read Free Page B

She cocked an eyebrow. “And then we’ll hand the pieces over to Daddy to get rid of.”
    He dipped his chin. “Fair ’nuff.”
    Val seemed to study him before nodding. “Good.” She stepped back. “Daddy’s a light sleeper. The sixth and seventh step on the stairs creak something awful. It’d be best to put her to bed and not bring down the wrath of Stuart McDougal upon her head.”
    “Thanks.” He strode toward the door with Chantilly so relaxed in his arms he wondered if she’d fallen asleep.
    It took him five seconds to push through the doors and hit the outside air for the invisible vise to loosen around his chest. He sneaked a kiss to the top of Chantilly’s head and carried her down the sidewalk toward his truck.
    “I don’t know what you did to me, little one, but you’re killing me here.” He maneuvered awkwardly to flip the door handle with one of his fingers without letting go of Chantilly.
    Jack placed her on the seat. She moaned in such a way all the blood rushed to his crotch. Damn the timing. Why now when she’s half out of her head?
    “Jack?” Chantilly smiled. Her half-closed eyes, for once, didn’t shoot sparks at him.
    He cupped her cheek and lost what little control he tried to retain around her. She had curved her neck and was rubbing her face against his hand.
    “What, darlin’?” Name it, and I’ll do it.
    “I don’t wanna like you.” She giggled and leaned toward him. He hurried and put his hands on her flat stomach to keep her from falling out of the truck. She pouted. “You make me all flusterated…and hot.” She stuck out her lower lip and blew the hair out of her eyes. “So hot, Jack.”
    He shouldn’t have kicked back that shot glass of whiskey Val gave him because he could swear Chantilly was coming on to him. “Let’s get you buckled up, Chantilly Lace.” He grabbed blindly for the seatbelt. Please give me strength.
    Chantilly ran her hands over his shoulders, through his hair and knocked his hat off in her mad scramble to explore his body. His hands shook and he fought with the slot on the latch. He inhaled through his nose. Roses. No, springtime. She wore the fragrance of the fields after a rainstorm.
    Click.
    She threw her arms around his neck and pulled him to her breasts. He groaned. Closing his eyes, he nuzzled the softness of her body before coming to his senses. Stay in control, man.
    Untangling himself from her grasp, he stepped back, shut the door and walked to the back of the truck. “How the hell am I supposed to keep my hands off her?” He paused against the tailgate and adjusted his jeans. He reached for his hat and realized she’d knocked it off in the truck. Throwing back his shoulders, he marched to the driver’s side door. He just needed to get her home. It was a simple task. I can do this.
    “Jack?” Chantilly leaned her head back on the seat. “I challenge you—” she waved her finger out in front of her, “—to ride ol’ Roy.”
    He grabbed his hat off the seat and plopped it on his head. After turning the ignition key, he pulled on to Main Street and headed out of town. “Darlin’, you should know by now I don’t swing on that side of the playground. Ol’ Roy will hafta find someone else to get his nut off.” He rolled down the window. Maybe the fresh air would sober her up some, and he’d be able to get her back in the house without waking her father.
    A delicate snort came from the other side of the cab. Jack glanced over and whipped his gaze back to the road. Chantilly sat over there rubbing her hands up and down her thighs below her cutoff shorts. He stole another glimpse and swallowed.
    “Uh…Chantilly?”
    “Mm…?” She stopped moving.
    Jack pressed the gas pedal down and sped up now that they’d made it through town. “Do you wanna tell me why you hate my guts?” He glanced back over.
    Chantilly frowned and crossed her arms. “I don’t…I can’t…You could’ve—I don’t wanna talk ’bout it.