Itty Bitty Ranch
When I hear a knock on my door, I’m almost breathless.
Chris comes in and smiles at me in ecstasy, seeing me in country garb and thus destroying my attempts to hide my emotions. My legs go wooden and I feel I can’t move them in a coordinated way anymore.
Chris is wearing a white shirt with black satin cuffs and collar, perfectly paired with a pair of skinny jeans that are torn in all the right places and embrace his a*s perfectly. Just fascinating.
A black Stetson with still immaculate Lane Old Glory western boots complete the picture and, with their embroidered flag, turn many a head.
Today he’s not only a country singer, but he’s the most my imagination can handle without getting strange ideas about the opposite s*x.
As we’re sitting in his pick-up truck, I reali
