Playing With Fire (Tangled in Texas, #2)(19)
Bobbie Jo looked at me. “I haven’t bought one yet. Do you mind hanging out for a few minutes? The line looks pretty long.”
“No, that’s fine,” I told her, keeping my eyes from returning to Cowboy’s picture in an effort to regain my poise. “I’ll just check out one of the nearby rides while I’m waiting for you.”
“You should buy a calendar, too, Anna,” Cowboy said, giving me a wink. “I’ll even sign it for you real quick before I go on my break.”
The cockiness oozed from him. I doubted the man could even help it. But I didn’t want a sexy man calendar. What I wanted was to forget I ever saw so much of his muscular frame lacking in the clothing department.
That’s all I needed. To spend every waking minute staring at his naked form on my wall. “No, thank you.” I turned to Bobbie Jo, putting my back to him. “I’ll be back soon,” I promised her.
“Okay,” she said, though her tone said otherwise. She gave me a strange look as I meandered away.
I made my way over to a ride called The Swizzler and waited in line until the operator took the three tickets I held out. If I had to wait for Bobbie Jo to indulge in her single woman fantasies, then I was going to enjoy myself in the meantime. Besides, this ride looked like a fun one.
Once the worker allowed my group through the gate, most of them scattered in different directions. I walked across a metal platform to an unoccupied red bucket on the far end. My flat heels clacked across the metal grating until I stepped into the bucket and sat in the middle of the spacious seat meant for three. There was a lap bar, but I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to do anything with it, so I waited. The operator of the ride had started walking on the opposite side, checking each bucket’s safety equipment, and would eventually get to me.
But while I sat there alone, I caught sight of Cowboy leaping over the ride’s fence and climbing onto the metal arm of the machine my bucket was attached to. “What are you doing? Are you crazy?”
“Just thought you’d like some company,” he said, hopping down into my bucket and squeezing into the seat next to me. He made himself comfortable by throwing his arm along the bench behind me.
No way. Being in such close quarters with Cowboy was a delicious kind of torture, but one I could do without. I started to rise, but Cowboy pulled the lap bar toward us which automatically locked into place, forcing me to stay put. “What did you do that for? I was going to leave.”
He smirked. “I know.”
“You do realize I can just ask the operator to let me out, right?”
Cowboy stretched his legs out in front of him and smiled confidently. “Yeah, but you won’t.”
“You seem awfully sure about that,” I challenged.
“Oh, come on. You wouldn’t want to hold the ride up for the next kids in line, would you?”
My eyes cut to the line forming once again at the entrance, filling with children who were patiently waiting their turn with excitement in their eyes. I huffed under my breath and scooted away from him. “Fine. But stay on your side and I’ll stay on mine.”
Cowboy grinned again. “You haven’t ever ridden The Swizzler, have you?”
Before I could answer him, the operator stopped by our bucket and tugged on the bar to make sure it was in place. “All right guys, we’re ready to rock and roll,” the man said as he made his way back to the control box.
Loud rock music blared from the speakers as the buckets started to move. They traveled slowly in a zigzag pattern at first until it built speed and momentum. With all the wind blowing, I was glad my hair was held back with a clip and not whipping wildly around my face.
But the one thing I hadn’t anticipated was gravity. Each time the bucket swung to the outside of the ride’s loop, my rear end slid on the cold metal seat closer and closer to Cowboy. I held a death grip on the bar to keep myself in place, but it was no use. Several laps in, my hips were pushed all the way up against his and the force of the ride’s movement kept me welded to him.
At one point my hand even ended up on his chest to keep my face from pressing closer to his. He grasped my hand and held it lightly in his as I fought to keep myself from ending up in his lap.
He leaned closer and whispered into my ear, “Stop fighting it and just have fun already.”
I sighed. It was no use, anyway, so I did what he suggested.
Even with my body pushing into his, I found that I was enjoying the rush of wind on my face and the exhilaration of the twists and turns. The rock music reverberated loudly into my chest as the bucket zigged and zagged in different directions, like we were being slingshot from one side of the ride to the other over and over again in some weird yet consistent pattern.
The unexpected thrill of speed and gravity had me smiling uncontrollably, but the excitement of being shoved forcibly into Cowboy’s hard body for the duration of the ride was a buzz-worthy event in itself. He smiled and lowered his brawny arm from the back of the seat to behind me where it came to rest on my hip. I was essentially being cradled in his rugged arms…and I liked it. Maybe a little too much.
Our bodies generated heat, while the friction hardened my aching nipples. They poked through my blouse. I knew I should put some distance between us, but his glittering green eyes held mine, keeping me in place. The fast ride invigorated me, but Cowboy’s incredible smile made me dizzy.