Hey, everyone! I’m so glad to be back on Delilah’s blog today to talk about my newest release, Cowboy Karma. It’s the fourth book in my Cowboy Cocktail novella series, starring a tight-knit group of lovelorn cowboys and the smart, feisty women who fall for them.

Cowboy Karma is a high-heat romance starring Lucky Garcia, a handsome rodeo cowboy who enjoys a blazing one-night stand with the one who got away. Harmony Santos, fresh from a nasty breakup, thinks Lucky’s just a rebound. But something about the sexy underdog gets under her skin and soon, she can’t wait to get lucky again…

To celebrate the release of Cowboy Karma, I’m offering a few giveaways. The grand prize is digital copies of books 1, 2, and 3 in the Cowboy Cocktail series plus a “lucky” horseshoe necklace from one of my favorite jewelry makers, Seoul Little. See below to play!

Thank you for reading!

Cowboy Karma

Who needs luck when you can get Lucky?

Cowboy Cocktail, Book 4

When Harmony Santos’s boyfriend dumps her on her birthday, she doesn’t get mad. She gets lucky…with a mysterious cowboy whose bedroom eyes and rough edges bring out her inner bad girl. But when their one-night rodeo turns into more than a rebound, Harmony worries her heart hasn’t healed enough to take on someone new—even if that someone is as sweet as he is sexy.

Tie-down roper Lucky Garcia can’t believe his good fortune. A shot at national finals and now this—his longtime crush, in his arms at last. The more time he spends with Harmony, the harder he falls for her. But financial demands and family responsibilities take him further and further away from her—as does his secret fear she hasn’t quite gotten over her dickhead ex.

Behind closed doors, Lucky and Harmony are filthy perfection. But when reality comes knocking, the star-crossed lovers must decide: walk away intact, or risk it all for a chance at happiness.

Get ready for rope tricks, spanking, self-pleasure, and a smoking-hot cowboy who puts the big D in Dominant.

WHAT READERS ARE SAYING

“Wow, Lucky is sweet, kind, loyal, sexy and adventurous in the bedroom! I was so hooked into this story I couldn’t put the book down!”
—Goodreads review, 5 stars

“I loved the story of second chance love and how even an unexpected encounter, on one of the worst days of your life, can offer you a chance at a happy ever after. This is the second Mia Hopkins book I’ve read and I’m already a big fan of her stories.”
—Goodreads review, 5 stars

“A beautiful story of two very different people who are actually so very much alike, and the passion and desire they ignite by simply being in each other’s presence…”
—Goodreads review, 5 stars

“Mia has an excellent voice for her characters…Everyone should be so lucky in love.”
—Goodreads review, 5 stars

BUY THE BOOK (print + digital)
 Amazon | Kindle Unlimited | Goodreads

EXCERPT

He knocked. Trembling, almost too horny to see straight, she forced herself to stand still for a moment, savoring the anticipation. Thirty seconds passed. She opened the door.

Lucky looked up under the brim of his hat. Staring at him, she untied her robe and held it open. His dark gaze slid down her naked body and back up to her face. If someone had walked by in the hallway, they would’ve gotten an eyeful. Lucky sure did.

Two big steps and he was inside her apartment. He slammed the door behind him.

“You crazy motherfucker,” she whispered.

He said nothing, grabbed her, and pulled her hard against him. His clothes and hands were cool against her bare skin. But when he kissed her, his lips were scorching. She took his face in her hands. Feverish. His mouth tasted like coffee and cinnamon gum. When his tongue found hers, she caught his true flavor, the taste of his body. Salt. Sex.

Locked in a ravenous kiss, he lifted her high off the ground, and she wrapped her legs around his lean hips. On fire, she took off his hat and dropped it on the ground. He bit her bottom lip gently. She moaned. She dug her hands into his thick hair and pulled his head back so that she could kiss his neck, just where the soft hair of his beard ended and his rough, stubbled skin began. As Harmony covered his throat with hungry, openmouthed kisses, Lucky carried her to the sofa and sat down.

She straddled his steel-hard thighs. He pulled back and looked at her with those hooded eyes. He was breathing hard. Staring down at her naked body, he ran his fingers through her hair and grazed a line from her temple to her jaw with his rough knuckles. Then he did something that no man had ever done to her. He rested his big hand on her neck. He didn’t grab or choke her, but the sensation of his palm and fingers on her throat made Harmony’s heart beat madly. Her pussy grew even wetter.

He noticed her reaction and looked her in the eye. “Do you like this?”

She nodded, mesmerized.

“How about a little harder?” He tightened his hold slightly, pressing down on the sides of her neck, but not her throat. “Like that? Do you like that?”

Harmony gasped and grabbed his forearm. “Yes.”

How did he do this to her? He’d been in her apartment for two minutes and already he’d taught her something new about her body. He leaned forward and kissed her so softly, she turned to liquid in his grip. “Have you played rough before?”

“Not really,” she whispered. His forearm was solid muscle in her hands. “Only with you.”

He grinned. “You mean the other night? I wasn’t rough with you. But”—he kissed her lips again—“I can be. Tonight. If that’s what you want.” His eyes glittered. “Is that what you want, Harmony?”

Her pulse beat wildly against his fingers. “Yes.”

GIVEAWAY

To celebrate the release of Cowboy Karma, I’m running a Rafflecopter giveaway for the following prizes. Please click here to enter. Good luck!

1 GRAND PRIZE
Digital copies of books 1-3 in the Cowboy Cocktail series plus a “lucky” gold horseshoe necklace from Seoul Little

5 RUNNERS UP
Digital copy of book 3 in the Cowboy Cocktail series, Cowboy Player

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Mia Hopkins writes lush romances starring fun, sexy characters who love to get down and dirty. She’s a sucker for working class heroes, brainy heroines and wisecracking best friends. Connect with her on Twitter @miahopkinsxoxo or visit her website at miahopkinsauthor.com.

I’m up to my eyeballs in work! For months, I’ve eked out little stories here and there, edited and released golden oldies, but there were so many distractions (kid’s surgery, grandma’s fall) that writing took a back seat. Today is the day I get back in the saddle. I have three things to accomplish today:

1. Work on edits (two chapters) for a client
2. Work on edits of the next Night Fall story, Truly, Madly…Werely
3. Write a chapter of Flashpoint

Not much, right? Well, I have a window without responsibilities or kids, so I’m taking it! Watch me fly! Where’s the coffee?!

Comment for a chance to win one of these stories!
“Attagirls” would be helpful!

Wolf in Plain Sight

“[Wolf in Plain Sight] has suspense, intrigue, and surprises that grab your attention and never let you go until the last page.” ~ 5 Stars, Just Erotic Romance Reviews

“A wickedly funny and passionate series, fans of paranormal erotic romance will enjoy [Wolf in Plain Sight] tremendously. Ms. Devlin has done it again!” ~ Romance Reviews Today

“Her realistic writing of well-packaged vampires and werewolves leaves the reader thirsting for the forbidden and a driving need to be possessed within her erotically charged worlds.” ~ 5 Blue Ribbons, Romance Junkies

To Super-cop Max Weir, the only good vampire is a dead one. Since his special police unit integrated with vampires, he’s had to suppress his natural hatred to work side by side with the undead to hunt down and terminate the deadliest killers. Now the unit’s hot on the trail of a new menace in town, a pack of werewolves prowling for vampires who don’t care whether humans get in their way.

When a stakeout goes awry, Max enters a bar looking for a fight or woman to help him blow off a little steam. What he finds is a winsome siren whose sexual appetites match his own.

Vampire Pia D’Amato is on a secret mission to take out Max–either by seduction or turning him. He’s become a liability to the Masters’ Council setting up jurisdiction in southern Florida, and she’s not leaving until she’s done the job. But Max is more man than she bargained for with a deadly secret of his own.

Enjoy this sexy excerpt!

Pia D’Amato wondered how things had gotten this out of control so quickly.

She’d planned to play hard to get ever since she’d glimpsed him striding toward her. His large, heavily muscled body had radiated hunger, and he’d moved with a rangy, masculine grace that raised her nipples in an instant to full alert. When his gaze had found hers, she’d felt the searing heat of his brand.

Never one to question the vagaries of fate, she accepted that tonight was meant to be.

His golden eyes had honed sharp as an eagle’s on a bunny rabbit. Assholes she could deal with, and she’d prepared her standard rebuff. However, the hint of wary desperation—and his expectation she’d resist—made her hesitate. She’d sensed he needed to win their battle of wills, but that he also needed her to give him hurdles to overcome. Why pleasing him became important mystified her.

Not that she intended to refuse him.

Then she’d found herself uncharacteristically tongue-tied, overwhelmed by his relentless pursuit. At first, all she could do was blink dumbly and try her best not to drool. What woman could resist the mesmerizing intensity of a full, frontal assault?

His gaze had stripped her while she sat on her bar stool. The look he’d given her once he’d finished said he’d staked his claim. If any other man had so blatantly given her that once over, she’d have delivered a set down he’d not soon forget.

But Max was a man like no other. He embodied a mix of strength, stubborn determination, and an underlying vulnerability she was sure he kept buried from the world. Already, he attracted her—madly.

When his jean-clad thigh had scraped the tender flesh between her legs, she’d laughed at herself, at her eagerness to rub on him like a cat in heat. And she’d thought to manipulate him!

All she wanted was him—inside her. Now.

He turned his head, and his hot mouth kissed each thigh, the scrape of his evening shadow glancing against the lips of her pussy. Covered by the sheerest silk thong she owned, she felt moisture dampen them in an instant. As uncomfortable as she found her perch, there was something pretty damn exciting about having all this mega-male’s attention concentrated on the core of her femininity.

His gaze smoldered, and his nose twitched as he inhaled deeply. But he didn’t give her the kiss she wanted. He really was going to wait for her to ask him sweetly before he plundered her body.

The man was blatantly male; he called to her body on its most primitive and elemental level. Built large and rugged, his shoulders were so broad they easily spanned her spread thighs. His biceps were so thickly muscled they strained the arms of his dark T-shirt.

His face was too hard and masculine to be handsome. A square jaw, heavy brow, and a broad nose that was slightly askew on his face, were a match for his rough and ready attitude. He was too much man to manipulate. Too much man to refuse.

His hot breath gusted against the wetness gathering at her entrance, and her belly tightened around a coil of desire so strong she trembled.

But her pride demanded she couldn’t beg for release. Bad enough he’d managed to ride roughshod over her willpower. She still wasn’t certain how he’d managed to get her into this predicament—holding on to the top of a bathroom stall with her legs draped over his shoulders—waiting for him to fulfill the promise in his golden gaze.

And why her? She took a deep breath and glanced down her body. Why had he chosen her? Had she somehow given herself away? Or was she just an easy conquest to him?

While the thought rankled, she had to admit, the evidence was pretty damn convincing. She was after all splayed wide for his taking, her small breasts squeezed beneath the hem of her halter. Her nipples constricted so tightly they begged for attention.

Like she would have to beg if she was ever going to feel the warmth of his mouth on her dripping sex.

And how long had it taken him to convince her? Fifteen minutes? Maybe.

He tongued the crease between her thigh and her pussy, wetting her skin. The air conditioning cooled on her open thighs. The contrast of the cool air on her crotch, and his warm hands, each cupping a bare buttock, drove her over the edge. To hell with who had control. And to hell with the last remnants of her dignity. She needed his mouth on her most intimate flesh.

“Please,” she said, surprised by the husky timbre of her voice.

He kissed her thigh. “I like the way you say that, but I want the words, baby,” he said, and lapped at the fabric covering her sex again.

Her womb tightened. He wanted the coarse, nasty words—the ones that made her flinch. Saying them would strip away any pretense she might want to keep for her pride’s sake that this was anything but what it was—a physical mating, a carnal fuck.

Pursing his lips, he blew a stream of warm air over her damp flesh.

Her breath caught on a sob she didn’t know was coming. “Eat me, Max.”

His lips lifted, baring his straight, white teeth. Not a smile—more an animalistic grimace of triumph. His hands slid from her ass and around the tops of her thighs. They met at her mons.

Oh God.

He bent his head and licked the seam of her pussy through her underwear. He rubbed his tongue over her, pressing into the silk, poking inside her opening to swirl his tongue in the shallow sheath he’d made.

She moaned and felt her womb clench. All too soon, it wasn’t enough. Why hadn’t she taken off the goddamn panties?

One clever hand tugged rhythmically at the strap that rode between her buttocks, drawing the elastic tightly against her anus. The other traced her slit through the crotch of her panties.

“More, please,” she begged, looking away from the hard-faced man who was quickly ratcheting up the heat of his caresses.

“Tell me you want me to fuck you with my fingers,” he said, his voice rough as gravel.

Oh, yes. She pumped her hips, eager for him to hurry.

“No, baby.” He nipped an outer lip through her panties. “Tell me.”

She gritted her teeth. “Please, fuck me with your fingers,” she said, her voice rising. “Please fuck me, Max.”

With his nose, he nuzzled aside the crotch of her panties, and his tongue touched her directly for the first time, delving between her labia to flutter the tip against the notch at the top of her slit.

Pia nearly screamed, biting her lips to hold it inside.

His gaze slammed into hers as he curved his fingers to plunge inside her.

She wished he wouldn’t watch her so intently. She didn’t want to reveal how vulnerable she felt this near to release. Or how close she was to tears at the powerful rush of desire that swept through her.

“Come for me, baby,” he growled, while pressing his fingers deeper. Then his lips closed over her clitoris, and he sucked—hard.

Pia flung back her head and howled, her body shuddering as the coil unwound, pulse by pulse.

When finally her climax waned, she clung limply to the wood, gasping for breath, her body sagging.

He kissed the nest of hair that covered her mound before sliding her soaked panties back into place. “Come home with me.” Not a request. But not exactly a command. His expression betrayed his naked need.

Naked as hers still was.

Her throat closed. This powerful but needy man was her quarry, and she’d betray him tonight.

I have all my rights back for the Members Only Series!! What is the Members Only Series you ask? Let me tell you! It’s a series that started my publishing career and 9 books have been lost in the EC land of No Royalty payments. It’s been two years of hell but I can now say ALL my rights are mine again! Yay!! I’ve republished all of them and I can be proud of sharing them again. Totally surreal!

Here are all the pretty covers…..siiigghhhhh…..I’m so in love with them. 🙂

You can find the first one, Together in Cyn, here with lots of yummy blurbs and excerpts!

https://jenniferkacey.com/books/mo-series/together-in-cyn.html

To celebrate I’m having two giveaways! One is a carryover from last month because the winner never claimed her prize….

And here’s the second one which includes a print copy of Together In Cyn and all sorts of other goodies!!

Here’s how you enter – tell me what your favorite thing about reading kink is! Being able to let everything go, the reality of it, the fantasy of it, the 5 alarm scorching fire aspect of it! Let me know! And please make sure there’s a way for me to reach you. If you win I want to be able to send you your goodies!!!

And please help me spread the word of the Members Only Series….

Within the walls of The Library, a members only BDSM club, anything goes. It’s a dark oasis for every Dom and sub to discover their happily ever after. Screams of pleasure and pain echo through the walls every night, but beneath each cry lies a confession. Unrequited love, cravings of domination by more than just one, even the desire for someone of the same sex. Each member learns, to find their forever, they must unearth the strength to reveal…everything.

Decadently Yours,
Jennifer Kacey

Jennifer Kacey is a writer, mother, and business owner living with her miniman in Texas. She sings in the shower, plays piano in her dreams, and has to have a different color of nail polish every week. The best advice she’s ever been given? Find the real you and never settle for anything less.

Website – Newsletter – The Decadent Divas– Amazon Page

Facebook – Facebook Author Page – Twitter – Goodreads – Pinterest

UPDATE: The winner is…Stephanie Davies!

* * * * *

People always ask me where I get my ideas. And I have to say I get them everywhere. From the news, from snippets of conversations, and sometimes, I get them from pictures. This past month, I’ve been taking advantage of a special bargain depositphotos.com has where you can purchase 10 photos a day for a month for just $79.00. The first couple of weeks, I devoured the site for pictures I knew I needed—hunky, bare-chested males, pretty women, couple clenches, some background photos. The past few days as I near the end of my buying period, I’ve been picking up photos that simply catch my eye, hoping one will spawn a story.

Here’s one of those intriguing photos…

So, let’s play. For a chance to win an Amazon gift card, tell me a story inspired by this photo. It doesn’t have to be long or complete. Just have fun!

UPDATE: The winner is…Colleen C!

* * * * *

I don’t know about you, but Halloween/Samhain/Dia de los Muertos is kind of a big deal around here. We don’t buy candy because we live in the boonies—no one goes door-to-door with their kids. We’ve painted pumpkins, put up our Halloween tree (a silver metal tree to hold our Strangeling ornaments), and begun purchasing the pieces of our costumes. We’re still hunting down all the face and hair paint we need to make a credible Harley Quinn. 🙂

All this made me wonder what sort of prep you do for the big date? Tell me about it and you’ll be entered to win a $5 Amazon gift card!

In the meantime, enjoy an excerpt from Zombie Love…

The morning he’d woken, feeling as though he had the worst hangover ever and rushing to the fridge for the hamburger I’d thawed the night before, he’d recognized the signs.

I’d awoken with him standing in the doorway, his eyes haunted.

“What’s wrong?” I’d asked.

He’d given me a tight smile, but then I’d noted the deep gray shadows beneath his eyes, the slick of perspiration on his forehead. The reddening irises. “Danny?” I’d asked, sitting up on my elbows as my stomach roiled.

No, it can’t be happening. Not to us. We’d done everything right. We’d stayed clear of quarantined areas. Used our own vehicles rather than public transportation to get back and forth to work. We never drank after one another. Didn’t eat out in restaurants where we couldn’t watch the cutlery and plates being sterilized. Didn’t kiss.

“How?” I’d asked, my throat thickening with tears.

He shook his head. “I don’t know, baby. But I have to go. I’ll walk to the center. Turn myself in. I won’t tell them where I live, but you’ll need to sanitize when I’m gone.”

My stomach tightened in rejection. “You aren’t going there.”

His sweet smile stretched, although his eyes watered with unshed tears. “I don’t have any choice. I’m already scared to death I may have infected you.”

I shook my head, the back of my throat burning. “You know what they say about those places. I won’t ever see you again.”

He spread his hands and gripped the doorframe, his head bowed. “I love you, Trish.” Then he backed away from the door.

I threw back the covers. “No! We’ll find another way. Wait this out. They’ll find a treatment.”

But he walked away, down the hallway toward the front door.

I scrambled from the bed and followed. Before he reached the door, I encircled his waist with my arms and held him back. “Don’t do this. Stay with me. We’ll find a way to keep me safe. You still have a little time.”

While he’d finished the raw hamburger and I’d drank a pot of hot coffee, we’d conspired. By the end of the day, I’d hit the hardware store two counties over, and he’d cleared his beloved studio.

That hug at the doorway was the last time I’d touched him.

I locked the door and walked around to the glass. The pile of clothing was where I’d left it. My gaze shot to Danny. He hadn’t torn the clothing to shreds as he had every time I placed a fresh stack inside his cage since the illness had taken his mind.

Instead as I watched, my eyes filling, he hobbled toward it. He shucked the grimy, blood-encrusted sweatpants he’d worn since he’d slipped the manacle around his own wrist. He bent and picked up the washcloth and clumsily soaked it in the water, rubbed it on the soap, and began to wash.

The fact he could think through the process of cleaning himself made me sob.

The sound must have penetrated the glass because his dark gaze found mine. His features were still cast in a dull, emotionless mask, but his red eyes told another story. He was there.

UPDATE: The winners are Debra, Colleen, and Pat!

* * * * *

Contest

Comment for a chance to win!
Winners will get their choice of a short story.
And if you haven’t read my shorties, check out the full list here!
Here’s just a sampling…

UPDATE: The winners are Roxie, Jackie Wisherd, and Joye!

* * * * *

What a treat to wake up this morning without wondering where I need to be or which kid I need to watch. Not that I don’t love them all, but it’s nice to be back in the saddle (er, in my padded executive chair in front of my desk). October will be busy, busy, busy! I hope I can keep up with the pace I’ve set for myself. If you see me out there tweeting or posting on Facebook, don’t be shy about nagging me to get my stories done! If you checked out yesterday’s post, you know what I’ll be working on. I shared covers for three different stories. Which story are you interested in reading the most?

Comment for a chance to win. There will be three winners!
One will win her choice of a Cowboys on the Edge story!

The other two will get their choice of a short story.
And if you haven’t read my shorties, check out the full list here!

Controlled Burn

This flame doesn’t need a match…

One high school prank gone wrong shouldn’t define the rest of Carly Lohan’s life. But setting fire to Caldera Canyon isn’t something townsfolk will ever forget. As the last part of her final act of restitution, she’s among the group of volunteers assigned to keep a prescribed burn of underbrush and grass from “running over the rim” into the ranches ringing the park.

Local rancher and volunteer firefighter Jeremiah McCord doesn’t trust the reformed firebug anywhere near the canyon’s controlled burn. Determined to keep her on a short rein, he’s everywhere she is, watching her. His distrust and determination sparks a plan for some sexy revenge—one that will get them both too close to the flames.

Get your copy here!

Carly wasn’t unaccustomed to hard work, but she’d never before used a pitchfork. The cowboy who’d set her on her task had called it a “shit fork”—before clearing his throat and explaining the implement was smaller than a regular pitchfork so that the balls of horse dung didn’t fall between the tines.

After mucking out the stalls, she’d forked a mini-mountain of horse manure and straw into the center of the barn. Now she was pitching load after load into the wheelbarrow so she could wheel it out and add it the larger mountain of dung behind the barn. Dung that was used in Mayra’s garden.

Before today, she’d never given much thought to horses, and she’d never had an aversion to the smell, but a day of forking poop had altered her view forever. Or so she told herself. She knew she must be a sight in her dirty jeans and tee. She’d forgotten to take off her gloves a time or two and used them wipe sweat from her face. Meaning she had to have some smeared on her cheek.

But she didn’t dare stop. Not and have the high-and-mighty Jeremiah shaking his head. The night before, he’d been so sure she’d balk at his list of chores. Little did he know, but she was used to hard work. Her foster families had made sure of it.

Still, she’d never mucked stalls, and the repetitive motions had tightened the muscles at the small of her back, and her upper arms until they felt bruised.  Pausing to stretch, she reached high, letting the hem of her shirt rise. The slight breeze blowing through the open barn doors wafted against her belly and felt almost luxurious.

“Looks like we’ll make a cowboy out of you yet.”

Carly dropped her arms and glanced over her shoulder. She’d missed Jeremiah at breakfast. Mayra told her he’d been up before dawn, as was his custom, to check on the herd. Carly hadn’t seen him since dinner the night before and dreaded their next encounter.

While her mind was made up to detest the man, her fickle body responded with a wave of heat that swept her cheeks and prickled her nipples. No man had a right to look that good when he was that dirty. “The cowboy who showed me how to muck out a stall asked me what I’d done to piss you off.”

“Oh?” His eyebrows rose. “And what did you say?”

“That I’d burned three hundred acres of hay and an expensive bailer. He said that’d do it.”

He gave his signature grunt.

Even though she’d told herself that morning she must have imagined its appeal, she still felt the pull deep in her core.

“You should take a break,” he said, his voice sounding gruff.

“Why? I’m not done.” Did he think she’d jump at the chance to not finish?

“The sun’s out, and the air’s warm in here, Carly. And it’s time for lunch. Someone else can finish up.”

She wrinkled her nose. “I’ll have to bathe again.”

He came closer and picked a piece of straw from her hair. Then he rubbed her cheek.

An action that shocked her to her toes.

“I think you’ve picked up more than a little dirt,” he murmured.

Because she was nervous with him standing so close, she laughed. “I have shit on my face. You can say it.” She swept a hand toward his own dirty clothing. “I’ve been mucking stalls, what’s your excuse?”

A smile stretched across his face.

The first she’d ever seen. Her stomach flipped.

“I chased a calf into an arroyo. He got separated from his mama. Took some doing to get him up on the horse with me.”

“I’d have loved seeing that.” And she meant it. The thought of him chasing a calf on horseback—well hell, now she was romanticizing the surly cowboy.

One dark brow arched. “You would have loved seeing a calf getting the better of me?”

“Yeah.” Feeling breathless because he was still standing close, she had to remind herself he was only being polite. That he’d likely come to see whether she was still hard at work. She moved away to lean her fork against the barn wall. “I better go shower, or Mayra will light into me.”

“I better hit the shower, too.”

Walking away, Carly pursed her lips and blew out a hot stream of air. Him being civil was tough enough on her libido. Now she had the picture of a naked, wet Jeremiah in her head.

Not wanting to track manure through the house, she took off her boots at the door before entering and making her way up the stairs. She headed straight to the shower with its lovely shower head that poured water like a soft rain over her head and never grew cold no matter how long she stood beneath it.

But eventually, she acknowledged her hunger, turned off the water, and then reached for a big fluffy towel. At that moment, she realized she’d forgotten to bring along clean clothing.

No worries, Jeremiah had likely finished his shower long ago and was already digging into his meal. She opened the door and padded toward her bedroom.

Just as she was reaching for the knob, she saw another door open, just past the staircase.

Jeremiah stepped out into the hallway, his hair wet and looking cool and clean in his chambray shirt and Wranglers.

Before she could push open the door and jump inside, she watched his head turn.

His gaze trailed from her sodden hair, dripping on her shoulders to the towel she’d knotted between her breasts. “See you downstairs,” he said, his voice thick, and then he strode quickly to the staircase and out of her sight.

She opened her door, entered, and then sagged against the cool wood. Would she ever catch a break with the man? First, he’d rubbed horseshit off her face, and then he’d caught her looking like a drowned rat.

She must be the most unappealing woman he’d ever had the misfortune to have under his roof—even if only for a few days. For once, she wished she had something stylish in the closet to pull out and wow him with. Then maybe he’d see her as something other than some white-trash nuisance.

Although she wasn’t entirely sure how she’d deal with anything other than his annoyance and mistrust. Just the thought of him ever showing any masculine interest made her heart stutter and her palms sweat.

No, she was better off to never entertain those thoughts. Jeremiah was way out of her league, and too much history existed between them—all of it bad—to think that a little spark of attraction might catch fire.