Her Forever Cowboy. Debra Clopton

his eyebrows were.

      “Look, I’m sorry,” she said, struggling to get her head back on straight. “I’m doing the best I can at the moment.”

      “It’s not good enough.”

      “Excuse me.” She might feel guilty, but if he thought he was going to stand there making her feel worse with all his high-handed tactics he was wrong—matter of fact, he was starting to irritate her. “I’m not going anywhere with you. My truck is fine—”

      “You’re not fine.”

      “I am, too,” she argued. “So what are you doing out here at two in the morning? I thought you were rescuing people on the coast.”

      “I decided it was time to come home for a visit. Somewhere around Waco, I decided to drive on through the night. Good thing, too, since you were the one in need of being rescued…which sort of puts a spin on you being fine.” He cocked his head to the side, sending a thick lock of hair sliding forward across his forehead.

      Susan rubbed her temple and stared at the man Mule Hollow folks called the rolling stone. He’d left town straight out of high school and rarely came home to visit. He was probably wishing he’d stayed away tonight.

      She knew she sounded ridiculous every time she denied being worn-out. The look in his eyes told her he knew that if he blew hard enough she’d topple over.

      “You’re right,” she said reluctantly. “I did need your help. But now I’m fine. Really. I almost ran you over. The last thing I’m going to do is make you take me the hour back to Ranger.” Especially on a motorcycle…she was terrified of the things. Not that she’d dare tell him that, she thought as she turned back to her truck.

      “Whoa, there. Look at it from my point of view.” He placed a hand on her arm to halt her. “I can’t let you get back in that truck. What kind of man would I be to do that?”

      His hand was warm and the pads of his fingers were rough against her skin—a tingle of awareness waltzed slowly through her. Whoa—the man was trying to take charge of her business and she was thinking about tingling skin! What was wrong with her? This would not do. “Cole, I don’t need you—I can take care of myself,” she said, locking firm eyes on him. She’d spent her life learning to stand on her own two feet. She didn’t need a virtual stranger telling her what to do. The last thing she expected was for him to reach past her and snag her keys from the ignition.

      “Obviously there’s no reasoning with you,” Cole said. “I hate to break it to you, but you’re comin’ with me. End of story.”

      “Cole Turner, give me those keys!” she exclaimed. “Right this minute.”

      “I like that fire you got goin’ on there, darlin’. But no can do. See, a friend wouldn’t let a friend drink and drive, and I won’t let you sleep and drive.”

      Glowering at him in the moonlight, she plopped one hand palm out. “Then I’ll sleep in my truck. Hand over my keys. Now.”

      “Not happening.” He proceeded to step around her, blocking her from the inside of the truck as he slipped the key back in the ignition, pressed the automatic button and waited as the window rolled closed.

      “Cole Turner,” Susan gritted out from behind him.

      His back burned from the heat of her wrath. Ignoring it, he slipped the key safely into his pocket, locked the truck door then slammed it firmly shut. When he turned around she had her hands on her hips shooting daggers at him with those amazing electric-blue eyes. He did like her eyes.

      “You are not funny, Cole. I want my keys.”

      She was tenacious. “You might as well give it up, Doc. I’m more stubborn than you, and you’re going for a ride with me and that’s it.” Snagging his helmet from the ground, he strode up the embankment toward his ride. “Come on, Doc,” he called over his shoulder. “We’re burning up precious darkness standing here arguing. There is nothing more you can do.”

      A loud huff said what she thought of him.

      No surprise there…he wasn’t exactly impressed with her, either. Still, her footsteps, make that stomps, behind him brought a smile to his lips.

      Chapter Two

      Maybe sleep would help.

      Everything was sort of mingled and mixed in a confusing way in her fuddled brain. It was hard to separate them. She was definitely going to need a few hours of sleep to ensure she didn’t make some crazy mistake—like making goo-goo eyes at the man. So not happening.

      Of course him acting all me-man-you-woman on her was helping toss some cold ice on the situation. Taking her keys like he did—out of concern or whatever—didn’t sit well. She was embarrassed beyond belief that she’d nearly run him down. She was reacting badly—in part because of the fact that she found the man unnervingly attractive. Cole was tall at about six-three, which for a gal of five foot ten inches, like her, made for a nice combination. He was lanky lean, with an athletic grace about him. She had a feeling he was a jogger…but she wasn’t about to ask him.

      “Put this on,” Cole demanded, swinging around so quickly she practically ran him over. He steadied her with his hand then held his helmet out to her.

      “What about you?” she asked, holding the slick red helmet away from her.

      He took it back and settled it on her head. “You wear the helmet.” He stared hard at her as he pushed her hair out of her face and, oddly, his actions touched her.

      Totally out of her comfort zone, she stood like a deer in headlights as he tugged the strap snug. She fought to seem calm.

      “It’s a bit large, but better than nothing,” he continued, thankfully not picking up on the battle that was waging in her head. “Not that I plan on letting anything happen to you.”

      His gentle words caused a rush of butterflies to settle in her stomach. Not good at all. Cole Turner was a restless spirit. A wandering man.

      She backed away from his touch, feeling foolish, especially when his own expression said nothing at all about returning her infatuation.

      Oh, no, instead he threw a leg over the big machine, glanced over his shoulder and gave her a lopsided grin. “Hop on.”

      She swallowed hard, reminded herself this was her only option for getting home then climbed on behind him. She sat stiffly, really not wanting to stretch her arms around his waist.

      “How, um, long are you in town for your visit?” she asked, needing something to fill the moment. She hoped he was leaving the next day.

      Instead of answering, he cranked up the bike and the engine burst to life. He glanced her way and his eyes glinted in the moonlight. “Depends on a few things, but I might be here for a few weeks.”

      A few weeks! “That long?” she squeaked the words out. Thankfully they were drowned out by the roar of the motorcycle.

      Or so she thought.

      “Yeah,” Cole said with a grin. “That long. Now hang on. It’s time to get you home so you can get some rest.”

      Like that’s going to happen. She was wide-awake; her arms were wrapped around Cole Turner—the handsome nomad.

      The rolling stone. From what she knew of him he would never be happy unless he was roaming the country. She’d never be satisfied until she was settled and had a family, so this infatuation was ridiculous. Sleep. She needed it! If she wasn’t so tired she wouldn’t be engaging in this weird assortment of thoughts.

      A very long time ago she hadn’t thought she wanted a family, either, but…things changed. She sighed and tried again to quiet her mind.

      “You okay back there?” Cole called over his shoulder a few miles down the road. His words were almost lost in the night as the air rushed over them. She gave