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And then the bastard walked away, waving at Cooter, who followed his girlfriend Carlene at a fast clip.
Georgia snapped her mouth closed and glared at his back. How dare he be the one to turn the tables on her? How darehedecide when to end the kiss? Who did he think he was?
Nope. You can call me Reed.
His words echoed in her head as she made a face and pushed back into the bar.
Whatever.
He wasn’t that good of a kisser.
Much.
Chapter Five
Kissing Georgia had been a mistake.
A delicious mistake... but nevertheless a screw-up.
Wrong for him was an understatement, but there was something about those big, brown eyes when her guard slipped and revealed the vulnerability she obviously fought against. And then there was that sleek body and pouty lips. He couldn’t ignore what she did to his libido.
He’d never had such an immediate reaction to a woman before. He couldn’t figure out why he wanted to throw all his intentions out the window and lose himself in the spicy sweetness of the long-legged beauty.
Cooter stood by the pickup, looking like a kicked dog.
“If you like it, then you should put a ring on it,” Reed sang, pressing the button on his key fob.
“Did Carlene tell you to say that?” Cooter asked, readjusting his stained Texas ball cap before stroking his mustache out of habit. Everyone but Carlene knew Cooter had a diamond ring waiting for the right moment... which obviously took years to find.
“No.”
“Why do they always want to get married? Me and Carlene are good the way we are. We get together when we want, and we got our own space, too. Think I want her moving in my place? She’s already tried to take down all my beer signs, and she put a Santa hat on my damn ten-point. Looks ridiculous.” Cooter swung into in the cab.
“You could do worse.”
“Hell, yeah, I could, but that don’t mean I’m ready to settle down.”
“Didn’t you turn fifty last month?”
“Fifty ain’t old.”
“Didn’t say it was.” Reed slid behind the wheel. He didn’t know why he tried to give Cooter advice. Hell, he didn’t know what possessed him to come to Thirsty’s tonight in the first place.
Okay, he knew that.
But it had been plain dumb.
After dropping Cooter off at the Holly ranch, Reed headed back to his ranch house sitting on the dark Texas prairie, the glow of the porch light giving him a sense of rightness as he bumped up the drive. His place wasn’t big but that’s what he liked about it.
He’d grown up in an eight-bedroom mansion in Beverly Hills with iron gates, a uniformed housekeeper, and a chauffeur. Most kids would have loved lounging in the pool and tooling around in a sports car paid for by daddy’s money. Not Reed. He played in the gardener’s soil, fished in the koi pond with a pole made out of reeds the interior designer stuffed in urns, and pretended he was Walker, Texas Ranger. His parents, when around, tolerated his Wranglers and the boots scuffing up the entryway.
They never thought he would take his fascination with cowboys so far.
They’d been wrong.
But slumming around rodeos and climbing on bulls was unattainable for a Hollywood boy, so Reed settled for the next best thing—Texas A&M vet school. He left LA for Texas and never looked back.
All he’d planned when he’d been eleven years old had come true. He wore boots every day, tipped his cowboy hat in greeting and drove a truck. He even had a horse named Amigo. But his life wasn’t complete yet—he needed a woman to hang a Santa hat on his trophy buck.
