Her Cowboy Dilemma by C.J. Carmichael - Coffee Creek Montana 02 - Her Cowboy Dilemma

Author:C.J. Carmichael - Coffee Creek, Montana 02 - Her Cowboy Dilemma [Carmichael, C.J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance
ISBN: 9780373754502
Google: M6cHomjAQeQC
Amazon: B00ALTWQ8O
Barnesnoble: B00ALTWQ8O
Goodreads: 16116275
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2013-04-01T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

The man was wonderful—he’d saved her dog—but also infuriating. His attitude right now reminded her of his reaction that night four years ago, when he’d insisted that since he’d driven her to the dance, he was damn well driving her home, as well.

She wanted to argue.

But she was too tired.

She also couldn’t deny the flood of gratitude she was feeling toward him right now.

She couldn’t have stood it if Sky hadn’t been okay. To lose her beloved pet of fourteen years in such a bloody and violent way would have been too cruel. It was bad enough that Sky had been hurt and traumatized.

So she fell in behind Farley as he led her around the side of the house. When he paused at the door, she hurried ahead to open it for him, but though Sky was pretty heavy, he still waited for her to enter first.

On her previous visits to Farley’s place she’d never seen anything other than his main foyer and the clinic. This first glimpse of his private space impressed her. The large mudroom had tiled floors, stainless steel countertops, a laundry area and a huge closet. It was practical, but also beautiful, with a calm color scheme and some humorous prints of farm animals, including one with a bird on a cow’s head.

The clicking of nails on tile announced the arrival of Farley’s own two dogs.

Cassidy had met Tom and Dick before and she had a chance to say hello to each of them, before Farley ordered them out of the room.

“You can shower in there.” He pointed to a room next to the closet. “A clean robe is on the hook. Use that while I throw your jeans and shirt into the wash. Just hand them out the door.”

She shook her head. “I’ll shower when I get home.”

For an answer, he just pointed at the mirror over the laundry tub sink. She stared at herself for several long seconds before silently going into the bathroom.

Here, again, she was impressed. The place was spotless, modern and almost spalike. The sink was long—like a trough—and the shower was the kind with a half-dozen different body spray heads as well as an overhead rain shower nozzle.

Quickly she stripped and passed out her jeans and T-shirt. The harsh iron smell of blood was deep in her lungs. She thought she’d never be rid of it.

But the mint-scented shampoo helped. So did the massaging jets of warm water. Worried that she was going to empty Farley’s hot water tank, she finally forced herself to turn off the taps after fifteen minutes.

There had been no conditioner for her hair, so brushing it out would have been impossible, even if Farley had owned a comb up to the job. His own little brush, set neatly to the side of the sink, would snap in two if she tried to run it through all these snarls.

Still, she was clean.

She slipped into the white robe, disregarding the slippers that were lined up beneath them.

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