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What made him angriest was that, right about now, she seemed like she could show him a particular kind of thing that he’d never known he’d wanted.
He gripped her wrists and held her back, away from him, until she stopped huffing and trying to hit him. She hadn’t hurt him. He was more concerned she’d hurt herself. Though she’d deserve it.
She took a deep breath. Then another. And another.
Her face contorted, her eyes going wide with horror.
“I hit you.”
“You did,” he said, standing there holding on to her still.
“I’m so sorry. I am so sorry. I don’t do that kind of thing anymore. I don’t. I...”
“Chill out, Quinn.”
She frowned. “You just told me to chill out.”
“I did. Calm the hell down. I’m fine. You didn’t hurt me. I threw you in the water but I didn’t hurt you. It’s all fine.”
“You were really mad at me,” she said.
“I was.”
“You aren’t now, though.”
“I’m more amused than I am mad right at this moment, yes.”
She sniffed loudly and he released his hold on her. She took a step back, and somehow managed to look both down and up at his chest right at the same time. Then she looked away. Resolutely.
“It’s okay that you like the look of me without my shirt, Quinn.”
“You...!” She was mad again.
“What? I take it as a compliment. But you don’t need to worry about me.”
She didn’t. For every reason he’d already listed, but frankly, her age, too. Now he’d gotten to thinking about his own sexual history and...no.
When he went out, he found women who wanted the same thing and who were close to his age. Older, younger, didn’t matter, but in the same ballpark.
Quinn was young. Eleven years younger. And that was a big no in his book.
Her personality was the bigger barrier, but still.
He ignored the kick in his gut that called him a liar, because there was nothing at all that made him feel deterred from looking at how pretty she was.
“I don’t... I... No, I’m not worried because I wasn’t looking at you. Be shirtless. I don’t care. You’re just a basic...bro...muscle...hunk cowboy.”
“A muscle hunk?” he repeated.
“You heard me! Basic. Nothing special. Seen it all before.” She waved a hand.
“Oh, have you?”
“Um. Yes, I went to college in California, remember? Surfers, cowboys...whatever.”
And then he quite literally hauled her up by the back of her overalls to position her to where she could get on the back of her horse. She looked like an angry kitten that had been collared by the scruff, but she scrabbled back into the saddle.
“You got something to say?” he asked.
