Bouquets and Buckles: An Age Gap, Snowed In, Cowboy Romance (Crimson Ridge)
Bouquets and Buckles: Chapter 7

Holy shit.

The soft wool of Skylar’s black coat gives way, allowing me to peel it off her shoulders.

I mean, this girl has a figure to fucking crawl across hot coals for, and I don’t know how the fuck we’ve ended up here, but I say a silent curse.

She’s fucking stunning, and what she’s wearing… well, if I wasn’t already battling an erection, I damn well am now.

My gaze should not be roaming everywhere at once like I’ve never laid eyes on a woman before, but I can’t fucking help it. Her black leather skirt barely covers her lush ass, with sheer black tights skimming down those thighs I want to squeeze until she whimpers for me. Her top is also black, but you wouldn’t know it because the damn thing is entirely see-through, and from here, I can already see the thin strap and clasp reaching across her spine that tells me she’s only wearing a bra underneath.

I’m not sure I’m gonna survive the moment this girl turns around, and I see how her tits are showcased beneath that tempting layer of sheer fabric.

Beneath the long sleeve of her cropped top—if you could even call it a top—are the colorful designs I’ve only ever dared to sneak small glimpses of in the times I’ve been in the same room as her. The adult version of my son’s best friend.

After Skylar went off to art college with Brad, she started sporting more and more ink each time she returned to Crimson Ridge during the holidays.

Like everything with this girl, it’s hot, she’s hot, and now that I can glimpse them up close there’s a mix of florals and colors and patterns tracking from the curve of her shoulders down to her wrists. I want to ask her about what kind of meaning they hold for the dichotomy of a girl. Who wears her hair the color of sweet fairy floss and favors chunky black boots.

Skylar has grown into a woman who is a whole lot of gorgeous, and a mystery at the same time.

“Help yourself to a drink, you know where everything is.” I practically choke out the words. Do not keep staring at her ass. “I’ll hang your coat up and drop your bags upstairs… same room as always, yeah?”

She turns her chin to peek back at me over one shoulder, all heavy lashes and pretty pink lips.

“Thanks, Mr. Rhodes.”

My cock fucking leaps to life. “Just Luke is fine. Probably should have pulled you up on that years ago.”

“Ok.” There’s that same breathiness in her voice again. “Can I get you a drink, too?”

Yup. Just hand me the entire goddamn bottle at this point.

“Sure. Whiskey’s good for me.” I say, taking the opportunity to busy myself with mundane things like hanging her coat and depositing her bag upstairs and trying my best to avoid thinking about the fact I’m going to be stuck in this house with Skylar, alone.