Read Counting Stars (A Donnelley Brother's Novel) for Free Online

over the man and I felt my heart speed in my chest. He was
remarkably good looking—and I felt guilty for thinking that. But it
was true. He wore a black cowboy hat, so I couldn’t make out his
hair color or type, but his eyes were piercing and black. Or at
least a really dark brown. His lashes were long and thick, also
black. His nose was stern, his cheekbones high, and his lips were
strong and full. His jaw was square, darkened by a shadow of hair.
And the man was enormous. He stood tall, at least six-foot-four,
towering over my oh-so-intimidating five-foot-three. His shoulders,
concealed beneath a blue plaid button-up shirt, were broad. His
waist was narrow and his thighs were firm beneath his dark blue
jeans. He wore cowboy boots. I hadn’t seen a man in cowboy boots—at
least not in real every day life. I’d been to rodeos where men
dressed up—but this man wasn’t playing dress-up.
    “Hi.” I muttered. I
didn’t know what else to say with those piercing eyes glaring down
at me.
    “Why are you sitting in
your car?” He demanded gruffly. Holy moly, the man was rude!
    “I was calling my
friend.” I stuttered through my answer even though my mind was
telling me to reply with ‘it’s none of your business.’ I continued
to explain when his dark expression didn’t change. “I was letting
her know I made it safely.”
    “You must be Reese.” It
wasn’t a question. It was a statement. And he didn’t sound too
happy to see me standing here. I wondered why. Who in the world was
this grump of a man?
    I held out my hand.
“It’s nice to meet you,”
    I paused, hinting for an
introduction. I didn’t know who this man was, but he knew me. It
was only fair that he tell me his name. But he didn’t. He didn’t
even shake my hand. I let it drop back to my side when all he did
was stare into my face. I didn’t like the way he looked at me—like
he was trying to uncover my secrets.
    I didn’t want him
knowing a single thing about me.
    “Well,” I breathed,
uncomfortable. “Where should I go from here? I know I’m late, and
I’m sorry for that,”
    He cut me off. “Where’s
your bag?”
    I flinched at the blunt
sound of his voice and he frowned. Deeply. His eyes roamed over me
leisurely and he took a slow step closer. My heart felt as though
it was about to tear out of my chest.
    I made a quick dash to
the back of my car. “My bags in the back. Uh, in here. I’ll grab
it.” I sounded like a loony-toon, but the nameless man made me feel
uncomfortable. He was rough, I could tell.
    I didn’t have experience
with rough men.
    “I’ll get it.” He
appeared beside me and his hand went for the latch, brushing mine
out of the way. At the brief connection, I yelped. Tucking my hand
protectively against my chest, I caressed the skin as though he’d
burned me. He hadn’t of course. He’d simply touched me, not in any
way harmful or sexual, but I still didn’t know how to process it.
My mind couldn’t seem to understand why my skin was still
tingling.
    I watched through what I
was certain were wide, doe eyes, as the man straightened. A frown
weighed down the corners of his lips and he tipped his chin. “You
alright?”
    I nodded. “Um, fine.” I
blinked. I wasn’t fine, but I assured again. “I’m fine.”
    He didn’t say anything
as he opened the hatch. Instead, he grunted, taking a step back.
Shaking his head, he waved a hand at the boxes filling my car.
“What’s all this?”
    I looked at the boxes
and then back at him. “My stuff.”
    He stiffened. “You city
girls don’t know when to quit, do you?”
    I raised a brow. Oh no, he didn’t. “I
beg your pardon?”
    “Do you even know what
you signed up for?” He glared down at me through dark chocolate
eyes. “You take what you can carry. Nothing more.” He gestured back
to my loaded car. “If you want to go back to your cushiony
existence, with all the things you can’t live without, you can
leave in the morning. I don’t know what