“Put the cigarette down.” The order raises my hackles. Curls my toes. I shouldn’t like a man telling me what to do, but it’s different with Wyatt Montgomery. Muted conversation drifts from the farewell campfire dinner taking place on the ranch. Inhaling a deep drag, I lean back against the tree. “Didn’t you know? Good for your body and soul.” His handsome face clouds. “Cowgirl killers, and you know it.” I give a lazy shrug. “Sure, they’re bad for you. So are cowboys, but they taste good.”
