Carla Vs. Cowboy

Then we’re shaking hands, and I swear to God, I’ve touched an electric fence with my boots in a puddle. I’m surprised the lights don’t flicker from the sheer energy shooting up my arm. I’m holding onto her hand, not wanting to let go, and we’re just staring at each other, and finally, in some distant part of my brain, I hear a voice clearing.

Someone’s trying to get our attention.

I blink, slowly, and turn toward the sound, still holding onto Carla’s hand. I don’t want to let go. I don’t want to quit touching Carla the Event Planner ever again.

I see Biff staring at me. When he catches my eye, he jerks his head toward Carla. Obviously, we can’t just keep shaking hands into eternity, although let’s be honest, my dick would like that…

And a whole lot more.

Reluctantly, slowly, I pull my hand away and let it drop to my side. We sit down at the conference table – thank God, finally something to help cover my erection – and then, Jason and Becca start into it. Surprised, I watch Jason begin to lay it on real thick with Becca.

“So how does a gorgeous lady like you get into a business like being a lawyer?”

I try not to roll my eyes. Could he be any more insulting while simultaneously trying to pick up on a girl? But thank God, Becca’s no wallflower.

“How’s a dumbass like you get to be at a negotiating table with me?” she asks archly.

“Oh, it’s all looks, baby, all looks.”

I do roll my eyes at that one.

“Well, at least one of us got to this table by looks alone,” Becca shoots back.

I try to hide my grin. Oh yeah, Jason has definitely met his match with her. Usually, all the women fall all over themselves ‘cause they think he’s handsome, although if you ask me, his nose’s been broken one too many times for that to be true. But finally, here’s someone who will make him work for it.

About time.

I settle back into my chair and start into a staring contest with Carla, which I’ll admit, is quickly becoming one of my all-time favorite pastimes in just the past 15 seconds. As Becca and Jason try to see who can one-up the other and Biff tries, unsuccessfully, to get them to actually discuss anything useful, Carla and I engage in our own quiet battle of the wits.

I let my eyes run over her face, admiring her graceful eyebrows, her full pink lips, her adorable upturned nose. If I squint just right, I think I can spot a few freckles on that nose. I have to wonder if she gets them more when she’s been out in the sun.

Something I’d sure love to find out.

She’s staring right back at me, and I have to wonder what she sees; what she’s thinking. Has she noticed the scar over my right eyebrow yet, from when I got slammed into a fence post by an ornery bull? Does she hate cleft chins? Not everyone likes ‘em. I had one girlfriend ask me if I’d be willing to get plastic surgery done, to smooth out my jawline.

I want to shift in my chair. I want to smile at Carla. I want to wink at her.

I want to kiss her.

But I can’t ‘cause we’re still staring at each other and I swear to God, the light bulbs overhead are gonna burst any minute now.

The more I stare, the more I realize that she has these flecks in her eyes that I hadn’t noticed before. I can’t tell from here what color those flecks are. Are they black? Dark brown? Dark green? I can’t tell, and I’m just itching to know.

I break first. I can’t stand it any longer.

I stand up abruptly. “I’m thinking a little coffee might help clear the brain,” I say loudly, interrupting Becca and Jason’s debate over the proper clothing that a woman should wear to work. I have to say, Carla’s short skirt and form-fitting jacket are a winning combo in my book. Anything to get a better look at those legs of hers. “Want to come with me, Carla?”

“Sure!” she says brightly, jumping to her feet. “We’ll be back soon,” she tells the others, and without waiting for them to respond, she and I escape through t

he door. I can hear Biff pleading for them to start working on contract details, just as Becca and Jason start into each other again.

Oh yeah, I’m happy to leave them behind. As soon as they stop spitting nails at each other, they’re gonna want to fuck, and I don’t want to be around for that. Let them do their courtship dance without me in attendance.

I have my own courtship dance I want to do.

7

Carla