Kissin' Tell (Rough Riders #13)(41)

“I was volunteered.”


He glanced at her sharply. “You don’t sound too happy about that.”


Hedge. “No way do I want to think about work when I’ve got a gorgeous hunk of man sitting across from me,” she cooed. “Can’t we talk about something else?”


“Fine. Let’s talk about you. What’s the most exciting place you’ve been in the last ten years?”


“I went to Cozumel for a week.”


A depraved look settled on his face. “Now I’m imaging you in a bikini, sipping fruity girl-drinks on the beach. I’d like to’ve been there to rub suntan oil all over your hot skin.” Then suspicion entered his eyes. “Who’d you go with?”


“My mom. It was my college graduation present. I haven’t been anywhere since.” She took a sip of water. “How about you?”


“I spent the summer down south. A buddy I met on the circuit dragged me to a swamp in Louisiana and a beach in Pensacola. Went someplace in Mississippi where the drawls were thick as molasses and I couldn’t understand nothin’. Guess that’s how I ended up eating opossum and turtle.”


Georgia laughed. “So were them tasty vittles?”


“I didn’t know what it was at the time.”


“Were you ever tempted to stay down there?”


Tell shook his head. “I’d got tired of the humidity, the bugs, the slower pace. I also figured out I didn’t have what it takes to become a championship saddle bronc rider.”


“What’s that?”


“Money, mostly. It’s expensive to keep competing if you ain’t winning. Hell, it’s expensive even if you are winning.”


“I don’t know how these rodeo cowboys do it. They’re gone at least a couple times a week over the summer.”


“It’s no different than you flying off here and there to do your job.”


“I’m the remain in the office to put out fires type of employee. No jet-setting for me.”


Tell studied her. “When you’re not working, what do you do for fun?”


“I’m happy to stay home on the weekends. I live forty-five minutes from where I work and the traffic is awful during the week. Sometimes in the summer I head to this small lake that has great walking paths. I pack a lunch and hang out all day.”


“By yourself?”


“Yes. Why? Do I sound pathetic?”


He snatched her hand and kissed the inside of her wrist. “No. It does sound a little lonely, sweetness. So I’m glad you don’t have to go back to that.”


Georgia felt guilty for letting him believe she was sticking around. “Your off-the-ranch hours are packed with stuff. What else do you do besides play in a dart league, mentor the rodeo team, judge rodeo events and charm and bed all the women in the county?”


“Only one woman I’m interested in charming and bedding.”


“Do I know her?” she asked innocently.


“Intimately. And if we weren’t waitin’ for some grub, I’d haul you out to my truck right now and we’d get reacquainted.” He lifted a brow. “How come you’re sittin’ so far away from me?”


Georgia stood and scooted next to him in the booth, secretly thrilled he always wanted her physically close to him, not just in bed.


“Much better. So when you come over tomorrow, I’ve got a couple of fun things we can do. Since you don’t like surprises, I’ll give you a hint. It begins with Z.”


“A visit to the zoo.”


He rolled his eyes. “That would suck balls. Try again.”


“You’re taking me on a Zamboni ride.”


“In Wyoming. In June. Nope.”


“We’re gonna catch some z’s after you tie me to your bed for twenty-four hours,” she purred.


“There’s an idea, but nope. One last try.”


She tapped her chin. “Does it have anything to do with a zipper?”


Tell grinned. “Partially. I’m takin’ you for a ride on the zip line I built.”


“Zip line. As in flying-through-the-air-with-no-safety-nets zip line?”


“One in the same.”


“No way.”


“It’ll be fun. It’s safe. I promise.”


Her fingers pleated the paper placemat that boasted facts about Wyoming. “Sorry, but that’s just not my thing.”


Tell turned her face toward his. “It’s not scary or steep. I built it for Landon. Try it one time. Please.”


How could she resist those damn dimples? “Fine. But if I take an ass-buster—”


“Then I will kiss your ass until it feels better.”


Chapter Eleven


Tell’s phone rang at midnight Sunday night.


Never good.


Caller ID read: Brandt. “Brandt? What’s wrong?”


“Jesus, Tell, Jessie is in labor.”