“Okay. It’s okay.”

But they didn’t kiss again. Not that night. Instead, he walked her to the door of her room, gave her hand a squeeze before he left her there.

But the following night, they were right back in his truck, and just before his mouth met hers, she tried to lighten it. “No sex yet, Ace.”

“Noted.”

But the kissing was hotter this time. Longer. A wildfire that seemed like it was on the verge of burning out of control.

She wasn’t aware of when she had pulled his shirt off of him, but at some point she did, and was moving her hands over his chest, down his back, and that was how she found herself laid across the bench seat in the pickup truck, her legs parting easily for him to settle between, and she could feel the hard ridge of his arousal up against her. She rocked herself against him, and then shook her head. “I’m not... I’m not ready for...”

“Okay,” he said, breathing hard. “It’s okay.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, terror warring with need. She wanted him so much, but she already cared about him far more than she was able to deal with or admit. If she actually let him inside of her body...

She just had to be sure she knew what she was doing. Sure she knew how she was...arranging all this inside herself.

And what if...?

What if she got pregnant? That was what happened to her mother.

It had just been an endless stream of heartbreak not only for her, but for Tansey as well.

There were consequences to this, and for the very first time, she felt somewhat sympathetic toward her mother, and her place in all of this, because apparently, charming cowboys were a lot harder to resist than she could have ever imagined. She had thought that knowing was enough.

But knowing about cowboys was different than knowing Flint.

“Do you want to come?”

It took her a second to realize what he was asking. His voice was hard like gravel, and she was desperate. Sensitized all over.

“Do I want to...? Oh. But I can’t... Flint, I’d... You...”

“Not about me. I want to make you feel good. But only if you want me to. We don’t have to have sex. But do you want to come?”

“Yes,” she said.

“Can I?” He put his hand on the button of her jeans.

She shivered. “Yes.”

He undid the button, then the zipper, and moved his hand slowly beneath the waistband of her panties. She wiggled as his rough fingertips made contact with her very, very slick flesh. She moaned as his skin made contact with hers. As white-hot desire rolled through her. He began to stroke her. Her hips moved in time with his fingers, and she let her head fall back. “You’re so pretty,” he said.

And that was it. It sent her straight over the edge. She cried out as her climax slammed into her. She found herself immobilized by it, as wave after wave pulsed through her.

She was left spent and breathless in the aftermath.

He buttoned her jeans, zipped them back up. And then moved away from her, straightened up, there in front of the steering wheel, and put his face in his hands.

“Flint...”

“Just a second.” He let out a slow breath. “You might kill me,” he said.

“I don’t want to kill you.”

“I don’t think you’re going to have to try.” She pushed herself into a sitting position. “Are you okay?”

“I’m great. I’m...” Her voice came out unsteady. She felt like she was going to cry. But she was good. She felt good. Well. Her body felt good. She felt like she needed to go lie down on the floor and curl up in a ball and wail about all these emotions that she didn’t fully understand. That was what she felt like.

“I’ve never had sex with a virgin. I mean... Not saying that’s what... I just don’t want to do anything you don’t want. I don’t want to push you.”

“You didn’t push me. You didn’t push me at all. You... I wanted it.”

And she felt weird about it. And like she should’ve maybe offered him something. Except she knew that if she did, he would get irritated. It would sound like a transaction. She knew that he didn’t want that.

“I’ll walk you to the door.”

They got out of the truck, and her legs still felt like Jell-O. She still felt unsteady.

And so she turned to him, and just pressed her body against his. He wrapped his arms around her, and just held her steady. And she had never felt quite so safe in all her life.

And she pushed against the emotion that was rising up inside of her.

“What is this?” she asked.

He shook his head. “I’m not really sure.”

“We should call it something.”

“Wilbur?”

“Oh, shut up.”

She punched him in the shoulder.

“What did you have in mind?”

“A fling,” she said, her heart pounding.

“I’m not sure you can have a fling without sex,” he pointed out.

“Well...well, I’m not saying we won’t. But maybe we should agree that it...that it will run its course and when it does, we’re both okay with it. You said you don’t... And I mean, I have all those goals.”

“And you don’t want to depend on a man,” he reminded her.

“No, I don’t,” she said.

“Then it’s a fling.”