Playing With Fire (Tangled in Texas, #2)

Playing With Fire (Tangled in Texas, #2) by Alison Bliss





To my favorite cowboy of all time, Hubert Lyle.

Because women who don’t believe in heroes have never met my dad.





Chapter One


He strutted past me as if he owned the place.

A whole head taller than me, his height was nearly as intimidating as his broad-shouldered, well-muscled frame. The white straw Stetson he wore looked weathered from years of use, but the perfectly shaped hat fit his head as well as the name molded to the man.

Cowboy.

I couldn’t forget his name, even if I wanted to.

No longer the cute sandy-haired boy on the cusp of becoming a man, his hair had darkened a little and his scrawny body had sculpted and toned itself proportionately in all the right places. But he hadn’t noticed me then, and he wasn’t about to now.

Long-legged strides pushed him closer to the computer area, showcasing the power of his thighs as his muscles flexed against his jeans with every step. When he pulled out a chair, his biceps bulged under the navy blue, long-sleeved shirt he’d rolled up to his elbows. Then he flicked a glance my way.

He held my gaze only for a moment—long enough to make my heart pound frantically against my rib cage—then focused on the pretty brunette reading across the room. As usual, he was on the prowl. It wasn’t much of a surprise, though, given his reputation with the ladies. In fact, I doubted he could pick his most recent conquest out of a crowd of…two.

Even if one of them was a man. And dead.

Not that I knew from personal experience or anything. I mean, just because I’d met Cowboy before didn’t mean I had slept with him. Though I was probably one of the few women in the entire Tri-County area who could pronounce that with a clear conscience.

Whatever. Didn’t matter.

With a loud huff, I maneuvered around the circulation desk to the return bins, where I bent to gather a stack of books. Irritation coursed through my veins at the speed of light as I slapped one heavy hardback on top of another, forming a tall tower, until the weight of the last book smashed against my thumb. I winced and jerked my hand back, shaking the pain away.

“Damn it,” I grumbled under my breath.

I closed my eyes and breathed out a sigh. Why was I suddenly so agitated over his very presence? It wasn’t like I should be surprised to run into him. After all, Liberty, Texas was his hometown. Then again, the public library wasn’t exactly the kind of place where a guy like him would normally hang out. If ever.

It was, however, a place where someone like me would spend most of their time.

When the library’s director had hired me two weeks before, I hadn’t bothered to mention I would have done the job for free. Even as a child, I’d always spent more time in a library than my own home. It was the one place I felt safe. A place where I could get lost in another world, and my parents couldn’t argue because they’d be forced to whisper. No fights ever broke out in a library.

And there was no shortage of love in one, either.

Nope. Not going there.

Arms fully loaded, I straightened and spun on my heel, bumping into a solidly built wall of…man. Strong hands shot out and grasped my shoulders to steady me as the books toppled to the floor. “Oh, I’m sorr—”

Emerald eyes stared back at me.

Oh God! It’s him.

“Not your fault, darlin’,” Cowboy said, flashing me one of his signature charming grins I remembered so well. “I didn’t mean to sneak up on you. Let me help you with these, miss.”

As I suspected, Cowboy hadn’t recognized me. Big shocker there.

He kneeled and began gathering the pile of books easily into his muscular arms. The bulges in his arched back bunched and tightened with his every movement. Okay, so maybe I couldn’t blame the ladies for throwing themselves at him. He was nice to look at.

“You okay, ma’am?”

His words shook me from my thoughts, and I stared blankly at him as I twisted my fingers into the flimsy fabric of my black tiered skirt. I gave him a quick nod. He grinned, then allowed his gaze to travel lazily over my body, examining me up and down, until his eyes finally zeroed in on my breasts.

With a high neckline, my cream-colored silk top covered my chest fully, though it didn’t seem to matter to him. His green eyes twinkled with extreme confidence and blatant sexuality, which sent a familiar tingle skittering up my spine.

“You seem a little rattled. You sure you’re okay, sweetheart?”

My fingers knotted together, cutting off the circulation, while my breath caught in my throat. Not only was he speaking directly to me and eyeing me like a tasty piece of candy, but he was referring to me in terms of endearments that sent a thrill up my skirt. Then he flashed me a very male grin that damn-near melded my panties to my body.

When I silently nodded again, he chuckled, straightened, and motioned to the books he’d retrieved from the floor. “Where do you want ’em?”

I stood there and stupidly pointed to the circulation desk, as if I couldn’t speak. Which, at this point, was apparently true. Great. Now he thinks I’m a mute imbecile.

As he made his way to the counter, I followed, admiring his loose-gaited stride and the way his tight rear end filled out his faded Wranglers. The man was definitely a moving violation if I’d ever seen—

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