I STUMBLED off the tiny plane that had flown me the last leg of the trip. The turbulence had been so bad I thought I might get sick. The nausea had passed but now my legs felt rubbery, and I was a little dizzy as I descended the shaky ladder towards the ground. It definitely did not feel sturdy enough to hold the guy who was waiting to come down after me, and I was fairly certain it hadn’t passed FSA inspections.
I exhaled in relief when I made it to the ground. A gust of October wind swept across the tarmac, bringing with it a dry chill that felt somehow wild and spooky. I shivered as I wheeled my suitcase across the tarmac towards the glow of the airport, which was really just a hangar. The night around us was so…black.
Beyond the airport, I could see everything and nothing at once. No tall buildings obscured the view, but then, no lights lit it up, either. There were a few small buildings, and houses in the distance.
The air smelled so clean and fresh that I kept inhaling until I got even more dizzy. I stopped myself, because I really didn’t want to pass out on the expensive shoes of my mother’s new husband’s old wife.
Gripping the handle of my suitcase as another gust of dry, cold wind whistled across the tarmac, I hurried forward. Something about the place made me want to run, as if something were going to jump out of the dark and chase me.
Get it together, Am, I told myself. I wasn’t seriously afraid of the dark. Except, it never really got dark in New York, so how would I know?
I reached the airport and went through, got the rest of my luggage, and pulled it outside. A single bench sat off to one side, but most of the airport appeared deserted. I glanced along the lane that ran in front of the building. The nosepicker was jumping up and down on the bumper of a minivan while his family loaded in suitcases. A little closer to me, a beat up old red pickup sat idling. And against that leaned the hottest guy I’d ever seen.
He gazed out into the night from beneath the brim of a cowboy hat. His dark lips moved slightly as he chewed on the end of a piece of dry grass. He was tan and tall, with broad, sculpted shoulders shown off to full advantage by a plaid shirt with the sleeves torn off. He’d left his shirt untucked above a pair of jeans that fit him oh-so-well and a pair of dusty cowboy boots.
Damn. If all the guys in Wyoming looked this good, maybe the next three months wouldn’t be so bad after all.
“Hey there,” he said to me when he caught me checking him out. “Are you Amber?”
I gulped. “That’s me. Are you picking me up? I mean, like, giving me a ride. I wasn’t asking if you were trying to pick me up. Nope. Totally was not even thinking about that. Not even a little.”
He laughed and strode over, thrusting out a work-worn hand. When it closed around mine, it felt like it could pulverize my bones if it wanted. Luckily, he was only after a handshake, not bone-meal. He gave my hand a tight squeeze, which, ridiculously, made my legs a little more quivery than they already were. “I’m Sawyer,” he said with a grin. “And I’m here to pick you up.”
I couldn’t help but smile back. “Awesome,” I breathed.
“If you’ll just unhand me, I’ll get your bags.”
“Oh! Right. Yeah, sorry about that. It was the plane ride. I blame that. Seriously. It was long.” I dropped his hand and continued to ramble as he picked up my bags, as promised, and swung them over the side of the truck bed and settled them in. I watched his muscles flex as he lifted them. They were really, really nice muscles. He must spend hours in the gym, I thought as I headed for the passenger door.
He slid in front of me and pulled it open, holding it for me until I’d climbed in before closing it gently behind me. He patted the hood of the truck like it was a beloved horse as he circled it before climbing into his seat.
“You all ready?” he asked. “Buckle up, Princess. It’s gonna be a long one.”
“Oh boy. I like the sound of that.”
He shot me a surprised grin as he laid his arm across the back of the seat and twisted around to see behind him as he backed up. I didn’t know this guy from Ted Bundy, but I was kinda disappointed when he didn’t oh-so-casually drape his arm around me afterwards.
Instead, he dropped his hand to the radio and dialed across the stations as he pulled away from the airport.
It was totally the rebound thing. I’d just been dumped in the worst way. Of course I was lusting after this sexy, sexy cowboy.
“What kind of music do you like?” he asked as we edged away from the few businesses and out of town.
“Oh, all kinds,” I said, marveling at how far apart the houses were. There were entire blocks of darkness between them!
“We might as well start getting to know each other,” he said.
“It’s our job to keep you out of trouble for the next three months. I guess that starts with knowing what kind of bar you’re likely to run off to.”
“What?” I squealed, turning to him. “You live with Mrs. Westling? Are you, like, her ranch hand or something? She does live at the ranch, right? Because I didn’t get the full scoop from my mom and Senator Westling, but they did tell me that much. And that, you know, I was an embarrassment to their family name, and I had to go babysit his kids until I learned to make better decisions. Wait, oh my god, you’re not her new husband, are you? Because if you are, I’m just going to come out and say it,
she totally won the divorce. Not that my mom isn’t pretty, because she totally is, but Mrs. Westling must be a real cougar. That’s all I’m saying.”
“Is that really all you’re saying?” He grinned sideways at me as we sped along a straight road that disappeared into…nothing. It stretched on as far as I could see, without a single car in sight.
Suddenly, I felt as if we were hurtling through space. I gripped the dash and stared straight ahead.
“Sorry,” I muttered, sinking down in my seat, my face warming. “I talk a lot when I get nervous. It’s better than sweating, though, right?” I winced that I’d put that lovely image into his head and vowed to shut the hell up. Otherwise, I’d have told him my entire life story before he dropped me off and
disappeared into the night forever. But apparently, that wasn’t happening. Apparently, I was going to see a lot of this guy.
I wished I wasn’t quite so excited about the prospect.
“To answer your question,” he said with a slight drawl. “I’m not married to Mrs. Westling, or anyone else. Actually, there is no Mrs. Westling. Our mother remarried a few years ago and took new name, and none of us are married.”
“Us?” I said, suddenly feeling the unmistakable butterflies of premonition as his words sank in.
“That’s right,” he said. “Dad told you there were three of us, right?”
“You’re the snot-nosed kid I’m supposed to babysit?”
Sawyer laughed. “I guess so.”
“And you all live on the ranch?”
“Yup.”
“And I guess they’re all grown up, too?” I squeaked.
“All grown up,” he agreed with a grin in my direction.
I was in so much trouble.
