Downhome Darlin' & The Best Man Switch Read Free

the gettin’s good,” she advised her reflection as she dried her hands.
    She turned away from the sink and needed to steady herself until her spinning senses caught up with her. Then she took a deep breath, drew herself up as tall as her five-foot-four-inch height would allow and concentrated on walking without weaving so she could leave the rest room.
    But she didn’t get beyond the other side of the door before freezing in her tracks. Standing at the open end of the hallway was the rear-end cowboy, his shoulder braced against the wall, facing her dead on as if he’d been waiting for her.
    Abby’s mouth went suddenly dry, and her courage lagged something fierce. She stared at him as if he were a hallucination she could will away.
    But he didn’t go away. He just went on standing there in all his glory.
    And he was glorious. In fact he was probably the sexiest sight she’d ever laid eyes on with that heart-stoppingly handsome face and that body made for sin. He really was tall—he hadn’t just seemed that way because she’d been sitting before. He was probably an inch or two over six feet, depending on the height of the heels of the snakeskin cowboy boots he wore.
    His waist was narrow where a crisp white Western shirt with pearl snaps up the front was tucked into his tight jeans. The sleeves were rolled to midbicep—mid muscular -bicep—also exposing thick forearms that were crossed over a powerful-looking chest, each hand buried under the opposite armpit with only his thumbs insolently poking out. And his shoulders were so broad that Abby had a fleeting image of a mainsail flung wide by the wind.
    He had great hair, too, she couldn’t help noticing. Wavy hair the rich shade of bittersweet chocolate, just slightly lighter than the color of her own. He wore it a tad too long to be conventional, and it looked as if it got finger combed out of his way when it bothered him, but it didn’t seem messy at all. Instead it fell into place and gave him a rakish look that only enhanced his handsome features without any sign that he paid too much attention to his appearance.
    Did he even know how great he looked? she wondered. He must. Didn’t all gorgeous men know it?
    There wasn’t any sign of it, though. No arrogance. No indication that he was even aware of the impact he was having on her. But he did keep staring at her as if he was taking stock of her the way she was taking stock of him. Or maybe he was waiting for her to make a move.
    But the only move she could think to make was to drop her gaze, wanting to break the connection that seemed to wrap around them and tune out everything else.
    The trouble was, her gaze landed on his hips where one of them angled out to brace his weight, and where a big silver belt buckle rested atop the well-endowed zipper of his jeans.
    She yanked her eyes upward in a hurry when she realized what she was looking at, poked a nervous thumb over her shoulder and said “Bathroom” as if that explained something.
    His oh-so-sensuous lips stretched into a half grin that deepened the crease on that side of his mouth. “I know. How was it?”
    He was teasing her. She could tell by the sparkle that lit his eyes even in the dimness of the hallway. And she wished she’d been able to buy some aplomb along with her wild-woman clothes and makeup so she might have a little on hand right at that moment.
    As it was, she just felt herself blushing again. “Clean,” was all she could think to answer. “They keep a clean rest room here. Most of the establishments in Clangton do. If there’s one thing you can say about Clangton, it’s that we have clean bathrooms....” Babbling. She was babbling again.
    He raised his chin in a little nod. “You got me over to your table for my name...and to brush a bug off my backside,” he said wryly, as if he’d realized their game, “but you didn’t introduce