I could literally throw a stone in any direction and hit a good-looking man in tight jeans and a pair of boots. But therein lay my problem. I didn’t want just any cowboy. I wanted one specific pair of boots kicked off by the foot of my bed. I wanted the one next to me, as stupid as it might be. Just for one night. Just to get it out of my system, so we could squash whatever the fuck this was between us once and for all. He could preach to me all day about how we shouldn’t for any number of reasons, but it didn’t eliminate that stupid, reckless feeling.
