Love Me Again, Cowboy

His brows crease and then recognition fills his features. He grins. “Holly Golightly. Of course, I should have known. Breakfast at Tiffany’s.”

Audrey Hepburn has always been my favorite actress. I used to make Jaxon watch the old black-and-white movies with me. Now, I use the names of the roles she played for my aliases.

“Wait.” I put a hand on my hip. “You’re my guide?”

He shrugs, that infuriating smirk still on his beautiful face. “It would seem so, darlin’.”

“Don’t call me that,?

?? I say, not because it’s offensive, but because it’s so sexy when he says it. And he used to call me that.

“Darlin’ or Holly?”

“Don’t call me anything.” I put my hand on my hip. “I want a different guide.”

“There is no other guide.” He puts the gear in the trunk of the Jeep. “This is my company.”

“What about Dillon?”

“Works at the bank.”

“Preston?”

“In school.”

“Landon?”

“Not unless you want to fall to your death. He never was one for rock climbing. He’s more of the wrestling cattle type. It’s me or nothin’.” He crosses his arms over his chest, and I try not to notice how it makes his biceps stand out even more.

I contemplate the nothing, then remember JulieAnn telling me this was the only company she could find that offers what I need for the role. But can I handle being here for an entire afternoon with Jaxon? Or weeks of him instructing me?

“I promise to be strictly professional,” Jax says.

I eye him, wondering what he’s thinking. I have to give him credit for not mentioning anything about me standing him up this morning. Maybe he really can be professional. I can be professional too, right? I’m an actress after all. Perhaps if I look at this as just another acting job, I can get through it. I can pretend that Jaxon Wyle means nothing to me. I can pretend that being in close proximity isn’t a special kind of torture . . . knowing that I wasn’t enough for him, knowing that when I thought we were completely and fully in love, he was cheating on me. I can do this, I tell myself. I turn away from him and take a deep breath, imagining myself as someone else . . . someone who has no feelings where Jaxon Wyle is concerned.

I turn back around, face poised, pulse normal. “Okay, Mr. Wyle. As long as we’re strictly profession, you may begin your lesson.”

He looks even more surprised than he did when I first arrived. He didn’t think I would agree to follow through with the lesson, I realize. Well, that makes two of us. I’m sure this is a very bad idea.

“Yes, darli—I mean.” He drops his head for a moment and then looks up at me again with an easy smile. “Yes. While I’m getting the ropes organized, why don’t you come over here and start getting suited up.”

I close the distance, noting all the gear in the Jeep. “I didn’t know what to wear exactly. I hope this will work.”

His eyes roam over my athletic leggings and tank, and he lets out a breath. “I’m tryin’ to be professional here, Lia. You can’t ask a guy how you look in skintight clothing and expect anything other than unprofessional thoughts to pass through his mind.”

“I was just asking if it’ll work for outdoor rock climbing or not.”

“Rock climbing, Victoria Secret’s catalogue . . . you’re covered either way. But tie your hair back.”

I roll my eyes and loosely braid my hair back. I don’t have a hair tie, but it should stay for the most part. I’m not going to be jumping around or anything.

“Come over here and pick out some climbing shoes.”

I stare at multiple pairs of dirty, old-looking shoes that have extra rubber on the toe part. “And get someone else’s athlete’s foot? I don’t think so.”

“I disinfect them after each use. Your feet are safe. I promise.”

“What’s wrong with my shoes?”