Taming Clint Westmoreland - Brenda Jackson [37]
Alyssa swallowed the lump in her throat. “Are you sure?”
“Positive. In fact he’s waiting outside for you,” Chester said.
Alyssa knew she looked startled, but Chester wouldn’t know because he didn’t seem to be paying attention to her. He was focused on his cooking.
“Well, I guess I’ll see you in an hour or so,” she said, glancing at her watch.
“Don’t count on it,” Chester said.
“Excuse me?” she responded, not sure she had heard Chester correctly.
“Nothing,” the older man said.
Alyssa eyed Chester in confusion, certain that he had said something. However, instead of questioning him further, on wobbly legs she headed toward the living room to leave. Why would Clint want to accompany her into town? Had he gotten a call from Hightower? Surely he would have told her if he had.
She stopped short of opening the door, needing to pull herself together. This would be the first time she saw him since their morning kiss. It was a kiss from which she still hadn’t fully recovered. And she had assumed that since he would be away from the ranch all day and she wouldn’t see him again until tomorrow at the earliest, that she would have time to compose her senses.
Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and saw Clint standing in the yard. He was leaning against his truck and her stomach became filled with butterflies when she realized that he was waiting for her.
She was careful walking down the steps, trying not to trip. She was amazingly aware of the appraisal he was giving her with his dark, intense eyes. He was looking her up and down, from the top of her head to the toes of her booted feet.
She decided to return the favor and check him out, as well. She saw that he’d taken the time to shower and change, too. He looked good enough to eat leaning against the truck in a pair of jeans and a blue chambray shirt. His legs were crossed at his booted ankles and he wore a black cowboy hat on his head. He was the epitome of sexy, the essence of what she definitely considered a fine man and the personification of everything male.
As she walked up to him she saw desire in his eyes and she took a misstep. He reached out and caught her arm and brought her closer to him. The front of their bodies touched and his lips were mere inches from hers.
“Are you okay?” he asked in a low, husky tone.
She wanted to tell him that no, she wasn’t okay, and she wouldn’t fully recuperate until she left his ranch for good. In the meantime, for the first time in her life she was beginning to think about all the things she could get into while she was there. And when she left, she would have solid, red-hot memories to hold on to during the night while lying in her bed alone. “Yes, I’m fine,” she finally managed to say.
In response, as quick as a cricket, he swiped his tongue across her lips just seconds before releasing her. She blinked, not sure he’d done it until she felt the wetness he had left behind.
“Ready to go?” he asked in a husky voice, transferring his hold from her arm to her hand. The feel of his touch had her heart thudding in her chest.
“Yes, I am,” she said.
He opened the truck door for her and she slid inside. He stood there a moment and she wondered if he was going to kiss her again. He leaned closer but instead of kissing her he snapped the seat belt into place around her hips.
“Thanks,” she barely managed to get out.
He smiled. “No problem.” And then he straightened and closed the door.
With almost stiff fingers she clutched her purse as she watched him walk around the front of the truck to get inside while whistling a tune she wasn’t familiar with. Then he was buckling up his own seat belt and starting the engine. “Where to?” he looked over and asked her.
Her eyebrow arched. He definitely seemed to be in a good mood. “You’re taking time away from your busy schedule to be my personal chauffeur,” she said as a grin touched lips that were still warm and wet from his kiss.
He grinned back. “I guess you could say that. When I heard you were going to do some shopping in town I decided that now was a good