Sometimes a Cowboy Is Just a Man in a Cowboy Suit
She fell in love with a man who wasn’t there. Oh, a man was there all right, just not the man she fell in love with. That particular love had more to do with what the man could be, what he could turn into. Which had nothing to do with the man who just fucked her. Or took her to dinner. Or once for her birthday flew her first-class to Vancouver to fuck her and take her to dinner. He could really flash that money around.
She was surprised to discover, looking back, that she’d been in love with – but had never loved – the man who treated her like that. Like a blank sheet of paper he was uninterested in decorating.