Before I know it, Scotty’s placing an empty water bottle atop his head, standing with a mock-serious expression, hands by his sides. “All right, Annie Oakley, let’s see what you’ve got.”
I hesitate for a split second—am I really about to throw my boot at this man? But the impish spark in his eyes is too much to resist. I slip off my boot, balance it in my hand, and toss it gently.
It spins through the air, perfectly knocking the bottle off without so much as grazing his hair.
Scotty applauds. “Nice shot! But was it luck or skill?”
“I think we’re about to find out.”
“Over here!” He runs to the other side of the barn and I’m a few strides behind. He snatches his safety goggles, balancing them on his head, but they’re no match for my aim. I knock them off with a satisfying thud.
“Over here!”
A feed bucket, an egg basket, and a grooming brush later, I’ve kept my perfect score.
“You’re amazing!” he shouts. “Wait, I know …” With a particularly devilish grin, Scotty puts on his cowboy hat. “This one’s for all the marbles, Angel.”
“You’re asking a lot of me here. That baby is hugging your head.”
“I have confidence in you.”
“That’s one of us anyway,” I mumble as I take aim, my heart pounding—not from the game, but from the way he looks at me, like I’m the only woman on earth. “Here goes nothing …”
The boot flies true, flicking the hat right off that handsome head.
“Yes!” he cries, and next thing I know, I’m heading for him.
As if drawn by a magnet, I stumble right into Scotty’s waiting arms. Our bodies crash together, his hands steadying me at my waist, and we laugh, my hands on his chest. We’re face to face, breaths mingling, the laughter filling the barn until it fades out and all that’s left is him and me.
His eyes search mine, and there’s so much affection, such tenderness, that something inside me melts on the spot.
Kiss me. Kiss me. Kiss me.
I bite my lip as my arms gently push on his chest.
What am I doing?
I have no idea. I can’t tell what I want. I think it’s him, that I want him more than I’ve wanted almost anything, but a force in me presses him back.
This is a silly crush. A silly crush on a super handsome, considerate, helpful, gentle, intelligent, muscular man.
He lets me go, and I don’t know if he just ruined it or saved us both, but he follows up by setting a box of screws on his head.
“How about this? One more for good luck, unless you’re scared of hitting something other than hats.”
The spell may be broken, but my heart still races. “It’s a small target, but I’ve been known to hit a gourd with an arrow from thirty yards at Maple Fest.”
“Prove it, cowgirl.”
Must calm these overwrought nerves. I wind up, ready for the shot …
“MOM!”
“I WASN’T DOING ANYTHING!” I shout as the boot flies a little too forcefully, my aim a little off.
And it smacks Scotty straight in the face.
(covers link to Goodreads)
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