Chapter 8

The bruise on the shoulder she’d landed on was dark now, livid against the pale pink of her sleeveless top. Above the scalloped edge of the neckline, a reddened patch showed where his stubble had abraded her skin. His gaze swept over her, and she could see he was taking in every mark and shadow.

He shook his head. “Land sakes, Little Bit, I forgot all about you getting banged up with that bull yesterday. Then I had to go and add my marks, prob’ly all over you. I’m sorry. I had no right, no business doing that. I can’t even plead being drunk, unless maybe on you.”

He looked so woebegone she couldn’t even pretend to be angry any longer. “Cowgirls are tough. The bull didn’t hurt me much and you sure didn’t, cowboy. So quit the groveling. It isn’t your color.”