A Cowboy for the CEO

Chapter 5: Hit Me with Your Best Shot

Although Ali had to give Liz her pills, thankfully Mr. Head remained safely in her possession. The six inch, tentacle shaped dildo had gotten her off more times than Robert had ever had, and it didn't disappoint even when fantasizing about the mysterious cowboy during a steamy, post-dinner shower.

Ali claimed she had named the toy due to a clever pun, but the truth was that she was just a huge fan of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. The actor who played Giles the Watcher had always been her favorite. When Anthony Steward Head joined Ted Lasso, it went without saying that she was thrilled.

At any rate, after releasing a little tension, Ali had an easier time deciding her next steps. She'd stay for the rest of the weekend, but that was it. On Monday, she was definitely out of there.

Waking early on Saturday morning, she grabbed a to-go cup of coffee and headed off to explore. Outside, the cool breeze rustled her hair and made goose bumps on her bare legs, forcing her to draw her cardigan closed. When she noticed the black pickup from the day before parked beside the barn, she headed straight toward it.

The smell of animal dung mixed with straw filled her nostrils as she strolled inside. The doors at far end also stood open, letting in the morning sunshine and revealing a horse idly grazing in the paddock on the other side. Inside the barn, closed box stalls lined both walls and Ali peeked into a few, curiosity overtaking her anxiety at the thought of being forced to ride one before she was ready.

Whoever had booked her stay definitely had an odd sense of humor. Sure, send the woman who nearly killed herself on a horse to an idyllic retreat that specializes in equine therapy.

Finishing the last of her coffee, Ali followed a rustling sound and found a ranch hand mucking out the stall at the far end. Even from behind, she recognized the cowboy from yesterday who'd brilliantly avoided running over Harriet's husband—er, dog.

Guessing that paying guests probably didn't shovel shit around here, she determined that he had to be an employee at Pebble Creek Lodge. And although this confirmation certainly had a bearing on her approach, it didn't deter Ali from her pursuit. She did, however, draw out the wait, standing silently for a moment and taking in the view as he bent his knees and picked up the soiled straw with a pitchfork before chucking it in a nearby wheelbarrow.

And what a view it was. The cowboy's worn jeans hung loose over his long legs, but stretched in all the right places as he worked. His occasional grunts of exertion were sexy as hell, and Ali imagined another scenario where she'd be the cause of his moans. She was getting all hot thinking about it, but as she wriggled out of her sweater, her elbow bumped the stall door.

The cowboy didn't turn or break his pace at the intrusion. "The stables don't open until ten," he said bluntly.

Lacking the expected Western twang, the deep, confident voice still gave Ali chills. "I'm not interested in riding," she replied, her pulse oddly quickening at finally getting the sought-after engagement with this man.

He piled another load on top of the growing mound before turning around. Leaning against the pitchfork's handle, he tipped his hat back before speaking. "Then what are you interested in?"

The question was simple enough, and she was probably reading too much into it, but he appeared to be holding back a smile. The coy uncertainty was just too much for her.

"I . . . um," Ali stammered, forgetting her train of thought. She should have come up with something ahead of time, but she usually didn't find herself lacking for words. His hazel eyes, however, bored a hole through her, and she had to look away to regain her composure. "I just wanted to thank you for not running over Marv."