the little cabins on the outer edges of the property, so it would take him a few minutes to walk over. Tamping down his nerves, which he was mildly distressed to realize were way worse than when he was about to pop out of the chute on 2,700 pounds of bull, he sauntered out of his room and headed toward his chance at a future. One, he hoped, without impossible expectations of some woman whom he had started to believe never existed.
The sun sat low in the sky, casting a deep orange glow over the dusty ranch. This was his favorite time of day back home. The day’s work completed, what lay ahead included a good meal, a cold beer, and the satisfaction of another job well done. He found her door and knocked.
“Come on in,” a muffled but feminine voice called through the door.
He took a deep breath and opened the door. Her back was to him, but instantly he could see she was everything he had asked for. Long dark hair hung loose around her shoulders and covered what appeared to be a red sleeveless shirt. A trim waist flared out to a curvaceous ass, which her denim skirt barely covered, that begged to have his hands on it. Her long legs seemed to go on forever despite the red cowgirl boots she wore. His breath rushed out as his cock leapt to attention. Mentally he begged her to turn around. If she had blue eyes he might leap on her straight away and skip the preliminaries.
“Hi there,” was all he could come up with to say since every drop of blood in his body had departed his thinking head.
She turned around and it was like a physical blow to his solar plexus. He could only liken it to being stomped on by a bull. Elizabeth was Beth. The Beth of his dreams, the woman who got away.
“Chance?” She looked as stunned as he was by the unexpected turn of events.
Chapter Two
Someone had sucked all the air out of the room because Beth was hallucinating. No way could Chance Rogers be standing in her cabin. “What are you doing here?”
He flinched at the harshness of her question. “I’m your date.” A cautious, lopsided smile curved one side of his kissable lips as he plucked the Stetson from his head and dropped it on a nearby table.
“That can’t be right.” Confusion swirled through her, making her dizzy. “My date’s name is Aaron.” She walked, staggered really, over to her purse and pulled out a sheet of paper. “Yep. Right here it says Aaron will arrive at sunset.”
“I’m Aaron.” He walked toward her in slow, measured steps. The thud of his boots sounded loud in the quiet of the room. “I used my middle name because I didn’t want anyone recognizing me.”
“Who would recognize you?” Blown away by the fact that Chance stood before her, she couldn’t really follow his train of thought.
“Fans, buckle bunnies, the media. This night was meant to be a private thing for me. Only my brother knows where I am.” He shrugged and stepped into her personal space, crowding her and making it impossible to think.
“So, you’re famous. For what?” A quick step backward gave her some breathing space.
“Bull riding. I hit it big on the PBR tour and picked up a ton of endorsement deals. I retired six months ago, but folks just don’t seem to understand that I am not going to ride bulls again.”
“Oh. I had no clue. Isn’t that dangerous?” Fear gripped her gut at the notion he had put himself in danger.
“Yeah, but only when I wasn’t on the bull.” He flashed a megawatt smile that made her toes curl and her body overheat.
“Wow. So this is real. You’re my date?” Her voice squeaked on the last word.
“It looks that way. Is that gonna be okay with you, or are you gonna cut and run again?” His hands fisted at his sides as he waited for her response.
For a moment, she really wasn’t sure what her answer would be. Part of her wanted to flee in embarrassment for what had happened almost ten years earlier. The other part screamed for her to wrap her arms around him and never let him
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