I couldn’t hear shit except my own voice in my head screaming at me to peel off my panties and let this cowboy sink into me. My body is raring for a rough ride.
The walkie crackles again. “Falcon, Copy? Breaker 1-9. Do you copy? Over.”
Falcon inhales deeply and with a resigned sigh, he removes his hands from my waist and steps back from me. His dark chocolate gaze has me under his spell. They’re saying far more than I want to see. He mutters, “We’re coming back to this, darlin’.”
Oh, are we now?
Coming back to what exactly? The animal magnetism we both just acted on? The fact that in about five more seconds, I’d have let him take me against the side of his truck in the middle of a pasture during the day? Or the fact that regardless of the fact that I don’t like him, he doesn’t like me, and I never do things like this, I’m still thinking about making sure that exactly what was just prevented from happening happens…
Leaning down, he swipes his hat from the ground and slips it on his head as he keeps his eyes on mine, as if he’s daring me, while striding to the hood. He grabs the walkie while still watching me. “Affirmative, Duke. Copy. Over.”
His shirt is still hanging open and his chest is freaking fantastic. I just want to lick it and play it like an accordion with my tongue…
Looking at him with the glare of the sun bouncing off his bronzed muscled glory a flicker of something tickles in the back of my mind. I feel like know something but I can’t figure it out.
Duke’s voice is full of static. “Found the pack. Eight of them. They got a calf, but only one. Six taken care of but two escaped to the southwest. Two in pursuit, but no sight of them. What’s your twenty? Over.”
Falcon’s voice is frustrated as he pushes his hat back so he can pull at his hair. He rubs his forehead with the back of his hand and cusses. “Shit! Damn, bastards.” The beep sounds and he speaks into the walkie. “Copy. Still at the breach. Pasture one-twenty-six. They’ll probably try to get out the way they came in. We’ll wait here for them here.”
What? We’re going to sit here and wait for coyotes that just killed a cow? How big is a coyote?
No, no way. I am not going to sit here and wait for some coyotes to come find us. There are two of them. Falcon has one gun. I don’t know how to shoot.
What if they eat him? What if they eat me?
No, waiting out here to be eaten by a wild animal that can kill a cow is just not going to happen.
I’m too pretty to die like this.
Oh, God… I’m not even supposed to be out here.
Duke apparently radioed back, but I missed it, because Falcon walks back toward me and sets the walkie on the seat of the truck through the open window. I slap his chest roughly. My hand bounces off the firm muscle. He stops with a start and turns his incredulous gaze on me. “Why in the hell are you hitting me again? If it’s because of what happened before we were interrupted, I’m not apologizing for that.”
Huh? He thinks I’m hitting him because we kissed?
Um, no!
I’m hitting you because you’re going to get me killed!
I snap at him. “No, that was just a kiss. A hot ass kiss, but whatever. No big deal.” His head whips back and he stares at me but his jaw clenches. “No, I’m hitting you because you just told Duke that we’re going to wait here for some coyotes. Some coyotes that just killed a cow! You only have one gun, Falcon! What happens if they attack us? I can’t do anything against a coyote! I don’t want to wait out here to die!”
His eyes flash in what looks like shock… and then he starts laughing.
He’s laughing?!
Why is he laughing?
Oh, my dying is funny to him?
He chuckles again and crosses his arms over his chest while watching me. A smirk crosses his face and I just want to punch him in the mouth. He says, “Thepackof coyotes killed acalf, not a cow. A calf is a baby. It’s pretty small. An entire pack of them killed a calf. This is only two coyotes. The rest are dead.”
I blink at him. “And…”
He laughs again. “Eliza, a coyote is roughly the size of a dog… itisbasically a wild dog. Can one kill a human? Sure, but it would have to be some really perfect circumstances. The coyote would pretty much have to be rabid…” He points to the gun. “I can take both of them out before they even know what hits them. They’ll never even get close to you. But if you’d like, you can sit in the truck with the windows up to feelsafe.”
He’s making fun of me.
I AM going to punch him in his face.
