Catching the Cowboy (Circle B Ranch 2)

I crack up laughing because Dawson’s obsessed with cereal. Ever since we tried that potty training trick, it’s all he wants to eat.

“Would you rather I feed him something I make? Because trust me, it won’t be good. That’s Maize’s area.”

Elizabeth Bishop is smart as a whip, but her cooking skills are null.

Diesel picks him up and stands. “Alright, buddy. You have fun with Aunt Ellie.” He kisses his head, then hands him off to Elle. “In bed by eight,” he reminds her.

“This isn’t my first babysitting rodeo,” she mocks. “I have this. We’re gonna get high on sugar, run a mile, then crash out. Easy peasy.”

Diesel groans.

“Bye, lovebirds!” Elle all but pushes us out the door, and Diesel takes my hand, threading our fingers together as we walk to his truck.

“Can you actually walk in those things?” he asks, opening the passenger side for me.

“Where’s your confidence in me?”

He lifts me, and I settle into the seat.

“About three inches lower.” He snickers.

I glare at him, buckling in. “We’re on a date, mister. You’re supposed to be charming and romantic, remember?”

Diesel clears his throat and slides his hands down his dressy button-up shirt. “Startin’ now.” He throws me a wink, then shuts the door and runs to his side.

As soon as we’re on the road, he grabs my hand and presses his lips to my knuckles, planting a sweet kiss there.

“In case I wasn’t clear, you look gorgeous.”

“You look quite handsome yourself. That shirt is making me want to rip off the buttons and slide my tongue up your abs.”

“You better watch that naughty mouth.”

“My mouth most definitely wants to be on you.”

“Rowan…” he warns in a deep drawl. “Getting my dick hard in these jeans is uncomfortable, so start talkin’ about something else.”

I grin, tightening my grip on his hand. “So I shouldn’t tell you I’m wearing a new black thong and bra set tonight?”

“Goddammit, woman.” His jaw tenses. “That black piece of fabric you call a dress is already drivin’ me insane.”

Although we spend as much time together as we can between our work schedules, we don’t always get nights alone, so after fourteen days of no sex, I’m dying for him. He gets Dawson three to four times a week, and by the end of the night, Diesel’s usually so exhausted he falls asleep the second his head hits the pillow. I’m still working late at the bar, so I need to make tonight count.

“Or that I haven’t touched myself since you last did, and I’m so wet right now.”

“Row…I won’t hesitate to pull this truck over and put you up on my lap, so unless you want us to miss our dinner reservations, you better stop.”

I know he wants this to be super special, but all I want is him.

“I think you should do just that…”

Diesel jerks the steering wheel to the right until we’re off the road. Gravel spits up under the tires as he takes a hidden path, and I squeal, hanging on tight as he laughs.

“What’re you doing?” I shout. “You tryin’ to kill us?”

“Hang on, sweetheart.”

It’s been raining for three days straight, which is more than we typically get in an entire month this time of year, but it means it’s muddy as hell. The truck dips into a deep puddle and then water rises and splashes against the side.

“Adam!” I shriek through my laughter.

He quickly turns the wheel again, and we drive through another muddy puddle. Dirty water flies everywhere, covering my window.

Diesel looks over at me with a shit-eating grin on his adorable face before he does another donut, and the truck spins in circles.

I hang on for dear life, gripping the safety handle, and can’t stop smiling and laughing. I’ve gone mudding on four-wheelers through the woods before, but nothing like this.

After ten minutes, Diesel finds a dry spot and parks the truck.

“What the hell was that?” I ask, still trying to catch my breath from the rush of adrenaline.

“That was the equivalent of me dumping a bucket of cold water over your head so you’d stop looking at me like I was your next meal.”

“But that’s all I want,” I pout, sticking out my lower lip.

He adjusts his seat so it slides all the way back and then grabs my hand and helps me climb over the middle console. My dress is too tight to straddle his lap, so I sit on his legs.

“Why do I even bother trying to plan a romantic night for you?” he asks, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear.

I shrug, grinning. “Good question. You know I’m not high maintenance.”

“One of these days, I’m gonna try to propose, and you’re gonna jump me before I even get the chance to ask.”

Smiling wide at the thought of him putting a ring on my finger, I nod in agreement. “Probably. So you might wanna ask me when I’m least expecting it.”