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down stairs from her shower. It was good to feel human again. Her body was still running hot from the workout.
    Curious, she ambled towards the kitchen and opened the side door Asher pointed out the night before. She jumped back in surprise. A small flat bed truck was inches from the doorway. Scratching the exit off the list, she went further into the house towards the glass back doors leading to the yard. The long handle clicked and the door swung open with ease. The back porch was deep with a ceiling covered with decorative fans placed measured distances apart. The wooden beams of the floor were dark stained; naked of furniture. She smiled at the possibilities such a bare space presented the proper decorator before taking in more of the Milway’s features. She spotted Asher pacing in the distance with his phone pressed to his ear and focus on the lawn. Not wanting to rudely interrupt his conversation, she took a seat on the highest step which provided some shade from the sun.
    He marched a determined line, reminding her of a lion on the prowl. His flannel shirt was buttoned all the way and tucked into his jeans. The denim curled around his lower half in a loose fit. She honed her vision onto the curve of his ass. He turned on his heels. She noted a belt buckle accenting his waist. Surprised, her gaze shot to his feet and confirmed he wore brown boots.
    “A damn cowboy,” she muttered to herself. The sight warmed her thighs and tweaked her nipples. “He’s not your type.” Hands down, not what she found attractive. She took a long breath. “You ought to be ashamed, Cyana.” She gently scolded. “Get a hold of yourself.”
    She raised her sight to the sky to change the scenery. The low ceiling was a mix of stretched grey clouds appearing like flat strips of construction paper with the upper ceiling bursting with puffy bright white clouds against loads of blue. It was going to be a beautifully humid day. Good thing she’d corn-rowed her hair.
    Asher sat down, making her jump. The heat of a hard body brushed against her.
    “Mornin’,” he said, “didn’t mean to scare ya.”
    “Good morning.” She spoke through her recovery, intent to glance at him but his rugged features captured her attention. He was staring off to the grass with his jaw set and twitching. His cheeks chiseled in a masculine curve. She pondered his lips a moment, full on the bottom and slightly on the top, but not as full as her own. What would it be like to kiss him? She blinked. No, Cyana. No.
    “Glad the mornin’s good for you, Love.” He finally spoke.
    She smiled. “Shouldn’t you be calling me darlin’ or something like that?”             
    He met her stare with confusion playing in his sights before he laughed, surveying his clothes. The question must have caught him off guard. “You like my get up, huh?”
    “You a cowboy?” she asked.
    He shook his head. “No. Sorry to ruin it for you, Love. I’m just a good ol’ country boy. I can pretend if you want me to.” His lips turned in a delicious half-smile. He winked. His glare sparkled something devious.
    Cyana felt like she could melt into a puddle of goo on the spot. She’d better leave that one alone if she wanted to get over this thing she was feeling for him. Yeah, that’s it. I’ll call it, a “thing”, because crushin’ on white boys is sure to be trouble. She glanced away, waiting for him to shift his attention back to the grass.
    “What’s got you so hot this morning?”
    “Hot?” he asked.
    She peered at him. His ears were still red. “Yeah, someone pushed the wrong button? It sounded like you were giving them the third degree.”
    “Oh, you mean what pissed me off?”
    She laughed. “I see we have to work on your cowboy and sister-girl language skills.”
    He threw his head back, laughing heartily. The irritation left his gaze completely once he shifted back to her. “Is that what you speak? Sister-girl?”
    “Oh, you didn’t know?”