Charlene Sands - Her Forbidden Cowboy

His arm over her shoulder, he turned to her with eyes flickering. “Is that so?”

Well, maybe not. She was getting drunk on him, minus the alcohol. “Yes, that’s so.”

“I could’ve gotten up on my own, you know.”

“It wouldn’t have been pretty.”

He laughed. “True.”

“So, I’m glad I was here to help. Show a little gratitude.”

He wasn’t a man who liked taking help. That was part of the problem. His gaze roamed over the deck where he’d spent most of his day, and she sensed his frustration.

“Wanna get out of here?” he asked.

“Sure. Where would you like to go?” Mariah said he didn’t like to go out, so she couldn’t let this opportunity pass by. If he needed some breathing room, away from his gorgeous house and his familiar surroundings, who was she to deny him?

“Anywhere. I don’t care. Are you up to driving my car?”

“I can manage that. I’m going to get your crutches now, okay?” She didn’t wait for an answer.

She released him and he stood there, balancing himself for the two seconds it took her to pick up both of his crutches and hand them over. Tucking one under each arm, he pointed a crutch toward the door. “After you.”

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