The Cowboy Wore A Kilt by Grace Burrowes

Author:Grace Burrowes [Burrowes, Grace]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kindle Worlds
Published: 2016-04-18T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Five

"I love this place," Claudia said, hopping out of the truck and enjoying the feel of her skirt fluffing around her knees. "You will not find an uglier shade of pink this side of the laxative section at the five-and-dime."

"It's…unique," Declan said. "I wonder if they've ever seen a man in a kilt before."

The Sugar Shack, in all its hot-pink glory, sat under the parking lot lights. The night was cold, but the sound of fiddles and a concertina from within promised heat to go with the music.

"C'mon," Claudia said, grabbing Declan by the hand. "If we stand out here much longer, I'll get to frettin' about Kara, and then next thing you know, we'll be in that truck, heading back to the Bar J."

Claudia's nerves had only a little bit to do with Kara being home alone. Kara was certainly old enough and had spent plenty of time at the ranch house by herself. The problem was Declan—or rather, Claudia's feelings toward Declan.

Over the past few days, he'd pitched in everywhere, without being asked. No job was beneath him, from mucking stalls to changing Hotay's litter box. When he wasn't helping out with the chores, he was researching land records and zoning ordinances, reading the fine print on Claudia's mortgage documents, or joining her for rides that took them over every acre of ground she owned.

He rode with the natural seat of a guy who'd been put in the saddle early and allowed to figure out the basics for himself, and—why couldn't a gal catch a break?—he looked damned good in the saddle.

He held hands well too. Nothing wimpy or tentative about the way his fingers linked with Claudia's, and that was…that was pure torment, and she'd brought it on herself.

"You're the angel of doom," Claudia said as they reached the door. "Why can't I at least resent the hell out of you?"

The parking lot was about half full, this being a weeknight. Declan glanced around, then pulled Claudia into the shadow of the overhang. He kissed her cheek, his breath a warm breeze on a cold night.

"I've been thinking," he said. "You know Miranda Davis. We're going to talk more about that when we get home."

Claudia did not want to talk. She wanted to gobble him whole, which made no sense. "Aren't your knees cold, Declan?"

He rested his forehead against Claudia's. "When I'm with you, no part of me could ever be cold."

Warmth blossomed inside Claudia. If she was going to be a complete idiot, at least she'd be in good company.

"Don't start any fights," she said, letting Declan hold the door.

"See that you don't either. I'm not sure I can find my way back to the ranch in the dark without you."

The musicians were taking a break when Claudia and Declan walked in, and that meant everybody had a chance to ogle her in a skirt for a change, and ogle the guy beside her, who was also wearing a skirt—sorta. Declan had said it was a work kilt, plain black rather than any particular plaid, like Scottish blue jeans.

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