Lassoed into Love: A Sweet Small-Town Romantic Comedy (Button Blossom Sweet Rom Com Series Book 1) by Rachael Eliker

Author:Rachael Eliker [Eliker, Rachael]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: BHF Creative Works
Published: 2022-07-20T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

MAREN

Gnarls formed in both of my shoulders from walking so stiffly. I tried to discreetly loosen the tension, but it was the kind of tangle that wasn’t going to be released without a serious massage.

I bet Parker gives great massages.

Closing my eyes for the briefest moment, I indulged a fantasy of what it might be like to slouch against him on the couch while he kneaded my muscles. Five minutes with Parker’s hands on my shoulders and I guaranteed I’d be sighing from relaxation.

Hold up. My eyes snapped open. Why was that where my mind sped to? Tense shoulders did not necessarily equal wanting Parker to touch me. It wasn’t like I was so uptight that I didn’t notice how firm of a grip he had when he scooped me off the ground when I’d biffed it wearing a towel and only a towel, but that was the reason I didn’t want to think about his hands. Hands plus touching equaled burning embarrassment because it reminded me that I’d been caught in my birthday suit outside the four walls of my home.

It was simple math.

Today needed to go away. But no. The bizarre dream that was my life kept chugging along, and as I floated through it in a fog, Parker followed me into the barn, walking too closely.

With the way the day was going, and with the mountain of resolve I thought I had piled between Parker and me, a football field would be too close.

“Thanks for folding the towels,” I said over my shoulder, trying to feign casualness. I found that if I pretended like I didn’t care, it made embarrassing things go away faster. “You really didn’t need to do that.”

“Happy to help. It would have been a shame to have them dry on the line, only to get wet again in that rainstorm.”

“That was something, wasn’t it? In like a lion, out like a lamb.”

“Sort of reminds me of you.”

I whipped around so quickly my ponytail slapped my face. “Are you insinuating something?”

Parker smirked like he was Peter Pan luring Wendy out her bedroom window. “Not like I’m saying something that isn’t public knowledge.”

“And what’s that?”

“That you’re a firecracker.”

Parker’s smile stretched, and the harder I tried to keep my gaze from dipping down to his mouth, the more my eyes watered. Either I was going to look like I was crying, or I’d give him the satisfaction of ogling his undeniably sultry lips.

It wasn’t like the state of his lips wasn’t public knowledge, too. Sure, I’d never kissed Parker Bingham, but I didn’t need to. He’d proven time and time again in basically every movie he’d ever starred in that he was an adept kisser. What should have comforted me sent my stomach into a freefall. Finley, the ambassador for bras and panties, was the kind of woman who knew all about how good Parker was at making out. Fuddy duddy, clumsy homebodies like me need not apply, because the line behind Finley of all

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