Hold Me Close (Bridgewater County 4)

“I don’t know,” I hedged, dragging my feet as she attempted to lead me.

She came to a stop and I nearly toppled over. Dropping her arm from my waist, she placed her fists on her hips as she turned to face me with her know-it-all look that I hated. Mainly, because when she wore it, she was typically right. Like now. “Rachel Andrews, if you don’t conquer your nerves about meeting this man you’re going to be useless as his office manager.”

I pressed my lips together, wishing she wasn’t right. I needed to do this. I had to rip off the Band-Aid and get over my nerves. Nerves which were completely unfounded. She’d worked for Matt for years and I hadn’t once heard of him being an asshole. No doubt her husbands would pound him into the ground if he so much as hurt Emmy’s feelings, let alone something worse.

Fearless, that was me. Fine, I’d go meet my gorgeous, jaw-dropping boss.

I gave her a short nod before I could change my mind and headed toward the stables. Right, I could do this. I took a deep breath.

I can do this, I can do this. I chanted that line over and over until I entered the crowded stable, the powerful smell of hay and horses tickled my nose. There were a number of dusty, sweaty cowboys but just as many scantily-clad buckle bunnies who swarmed around like gnats.

Just like any other sport where there were powerful, attractive men, there were the women who were looking to bed them. I was way overdressed in comparison. I had on boots and jeans and a pale pink snap shirt. I wasn’t frumpy, by any means, but I didn’t let it all hang out at a dusty rodeo. Not like these women. Most wore camisoles or slinky tees and short shorts. One buxom blonde to my right was very clearly wearing no bra. It wasn’t cold at all, but it was below freezing out if her pointy nipples were anything to go by.

I looked away, glanced around the milling people, trying to find my new boss. Since it was the county fair, there were more events going on than just the rodeo. I didn’t see Matt, only met the curious gazes of other cowboys and the women who clung to them.

I tugged at the edge of my shirt and tucked my chin as I headed further into the breach. I felt ridiculously out of place. I wasn’t the only woman with a buttoned-down shirt, but I was the only one who wasn’t wearing it opened halfway down my chest to show off a lacy bra. I definitely did not belong, but I’d come this far. There was no way I could turn back now. Emmy would never let me live it down. I was just meeting my new boss. That was it. He wasn’t a smokin’ hot cowboy. He was my boss.

Boss. Boss. Boss.

CHAPTER TWO

RACHEL

Finally, I caught sight of him. Matt, I corrected myself. He had a name and it was Matt. Or Mr. Something-or-other, and it wasn’t Mr. Hottie.

He was talking to one of the other riders and though there were buckle bunnies hovering nearby, he didn’t seem to notice them. I forced myself to take a step in his direction, and then another. One more step and he caught sight of me. Oh holy jeez. His eyes were a steel gray and they landed on me with the intensity and accuracy of a missile guidance system. For a second, I couldn’t breathe and my feet faltered.

Boss. Boss. Boss.

My whole body seemed to go haywire as those eyes assessed me. Without looking away, he said something to the rider and the other man walked off.

The path was clear. He stood waiting for me to finish crossing the short distance between us. His dark hair had a crease from wearing a cowboy hat and his skin was bronzed from being in the sun. He didn’t ride a desk; owning Hawk’s Landing took him into the outdoors every day. His features were almost perfect. Almost. The slight ridge in his nose and the severity of his jaw added just enough imperfection to make him real. Touchable.

I swallowed down an excess of saliva. Where the hell had that thought come from? This man was my boss. Or he would be my boss. Either way, he was off limits. Yeah, but I was pulled to him as if by a pheromone tractor beam.

Licking my lips, I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans and forced my shoulders back. Act confident, be confident. That was what my older sister, Sheila, used to say. Here was hoping Sheila knew what the hell she was talking about.

“Well, what do we have here?” the hottie cowboy said as I drew near. Matt. His name was Matt. I needed to get my head on straight. For the millionth time, I reminded myself that while this guy might be a cowboy, and yes, he was sexy as hell…he was also my boss. Boss!

His gaze raked over every inch of me, from my well worn leather boots to the top of my head and everywhere—yes, everywhere—in between. His jaw clenched, eyes narrowed for just a moment.

I started to smile and hold out my hand, but he cut me off before I could introduce myself. “Must be my lucky day if a sweet little thing like you is seeking me out.”

I blinked up at him in surprise, stopped in my tracks. I’d been wrong. Those eyes weren’t a steely gray. That sounded cold, clinical, when his gaze was anything but. His gaze burned. It singed my skin wherever it roamed. I felt my nipples harden.

“Uh, I’m Rachel.” My hand was

still partially extended, hanging awkwardly between us until he grasped it in his.

Oh dear. Oh my. Never in my life would I have guessed that holding a man’s hand could feel so…sensual. I felt so feminine since it was huge, all but engulfing mine. Maybe I was overreacting. Okay, I was definitely overreacting. But there was no denying that his calloused, firm grip did something to me. It sent a jolt of electricity right to my clit. The heat that had scorched my skin was in my blood, heating my core, turning my insides to jelly.

And he sensed it. His lips were curled up in cynical amusement and his expression was knowing.

Oh god, he knew I was turned on. That crazy inferno of heat rushed up to my face and my cheeks caught fire. All this from just a handshake.

He chuckled softly and took a step closer to me so I could smell his heavenly, earthy scent. It was a mix of leather and grass and sweat and something I couldn’t out my finger on. Whatever it was, it seemed to be a panty melting concoction specially made to drive me wild. It was working.

I almost moaned when he leaned closer, his mouth tantalizingly near my ear. “What brings a nice girl like you to a rodeo?”