Cowboy fantasies. Oh boy, do I have them. I blame the shiny belt buckles and those chaps. Mother of pearl buttons, those chaps.
After getting dumped by my Not Future Husband, I’ve decided to spend the summer in Aspen exploring new adventures. First on the list is rugged, sexy rodeo champion Justin Garrison, who seems happy to accept the challenge.
What if I fall in love with the real man behind the fantasy?
Being the charming cowboy is an easy role to play. Whenever I’m on the back of a horse or riding a bull, everything’s simple, uncomplicated. Running my family’s ranch and trying to keep the past buried are a lot harder.
When my path crosses with a beautiful brunette at a rodeo, I’m not looking for more complications. Feisty Zoe Saragossa’s not a typical buckle bunny and I’m definitely not her type.
Can a city girl fall for a real cowboy?
Wild for You is a standalone, slow burn cowboy romance. It’s part of the Love with Altitude series of standalone romantic comedies set in Aspen, high in the Rocky Mountains.
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WILD FOR YOU by Daisy Prescott
Justin’s warm, rough fingers cradle my hand like it’s something precious. I blindly follow him through the bar to the dance floor. He could probably lead me right out the door and into the night, and I wouldn’t protest.
It’s the first time we’ve touched skin to skin for more than a minute, and my body responds like he’s flipped a switch, flooding light where darkness has loitered for months.
The warmth from his hand around mine is the sun breaking through storm clouds.
On the small stage—only two feet higher than the rest of the floor—is a quartet of older men playing old fashioned country tunes. One has a slide guitar splayed in front of him. The tunes are upbeat, but the lyrics I catch could drive anyone to drink whiskey for breakfast.
Justin leads me to the far edge, where it’s less crowded with couples rotating counter-clockwise around the floor.
“Trust me.” With a jerk to my hand, he spins me around to face him. He lifts my left hand to his shoulder and rests his on my back near my bra strap. It’s a formal position with lots of room between our bodies for the Holy Spirit. Or at least the big gap makes me think of dancing supervised by Catholic nuns.
“What’s so funny?” The corners of his mouth curl up.
“Nothing,” I say with a shake of my head. “I’m nervous.”
“Don’t be. I’ve got you.” The smile he gives me is nothing but sweet and genuine.
“All I ask is you catch me before my face plants on the floor.”
He barks out a chuckle. “Promise.”
“Swear on your belt buckle. Or Cisco.”
He’s still chuckling when he meets my eyes. “Take me at my word.”
Beneath his black Stetson, his eyes are dark as a night without stars. It would be so easy to get lost in them forever. He begins talking again and I try to focus on his words and not the trifecta of his eyes, his hand on my back, and mine touching his shoulder.
“We’re going to go quick quick, then slow slow. Step on your right foot first.” He lifts and lowers his feet to demonstrate. “Follow me. When I want you to turn, I’ll put a little pressure on right here. Can you feel that?”
Yes, yes I can. I nod as he flexes his hand against my bra strap.
“Good, now open your hand and rest your palm on my shoulder.”
I’m fondling his shoulder. It is everything and more. Strong, rounded with muscle, and hard as a rock. A girl could have fantasies about his shoulders. I add it to my collection.
“Here we go.” He smirks.
Dancing with Justin is like skiing in fresh powder. Effortless and smooth. Even though I’m dancing backward, he leads me around the floor, weaving us through the other couples. With a gentle press of his fingers on my shoulder blade, he guides me through a turn. Amazingly, I don’t trip.
“You look surprised,” he whispers when I’m back in his arms.
It’s an understatement for how I’m feeling right now.
I’m a minute from turning into a pile of swoony goo. Never in my life have I swooned over a man before.
But Justin isn’t a regular guy.
He’s a cowboy.