Page 14 of September’s Cowboy Travis

I caught her wrist before she could lower her hand, my fingers closing lightly around it. Her pulse jumped beneath my thumb.

“Careful, Harper.”

Her gaze dropped to my mouth. “You say that a lot.”

“Only when I mean it.”

A few minutes ago she'd been making jokes about my survival instincts. Now she stood close enough that the toe of her boot nearly touched mine, with arena dust on her fingers from my face and her breathing a little quicker than it had been before.

I looked at her mouth.

She didn't move.

Neither did I, for another second. Then I started to lean in.

Someone laughed near the chute. Cody and two volunteers stood twenty feet away doing a piss-poor job of pretending they weren't watching us.

Kaycee followed my gaze and spotted them.

I loosened my hold on her wrist. “If I kiss you right here, half this town will know it before it’s over.”

She let out a soft laugh. “Is that a global small-town problem?”

“It’s a Mustang Mountain problem.” I let her go.

She stepped back, though not far enough to make it much easier. “Probably a good call.”

“That doesn’t mean I like it.”

Her eyes met mine for a second before she picked up the folder she'd set on the rail. Whatever I'd seen there was enough to make stopping feel like an even worse idea.

“For the record, I understand the charge now,” she said.

“I’m glad nearly breaking my neck helped with your audit.”

“You survived.”

“Barely.”

She gave me a look and started toward the office. I fell into step next her.

A stock trailer rolled through the back gate, forcing us to wait while a volunteer waved it into place. Once it passed, Kaycee glanced at the folder in her hands.

“I confirmed something about Parcel 17-B. That designation hasn't been used in the current Kincaid lease records for years.”

I frowned. “So whoever put it on the transfer knew the old records.”

“That's what it looks like.”

“And knew where to send the money.”

She nodded.

Every answer made the deposit look less like a mistake.

“Are you still tracing the account?”

“I am.”