He’d been in too deep with her. And it had not been his imagination. He couldn’t deny it. Not now.
It was way too easy to remember the good times. To remember that friendship as the foundation, and the way that had shifted. The way it had shifted under his feet without him making the decision to let it.
Because he knew better. That was the thing. He had never in his life let himself get drawn into a relationship with a woman because he knew he didn’t have the capacity to give a woman what she needed. He had always known that marriage and children weren’t for him. He had known that since he was fourteen years old. And he had never, ever crossed those lines; he had never done anything that he was ashamed of with a woman. Not until her.
But he knew why it happened.
Because of her. Because there was something about her. And in the end, he supposed it wasn’t all that surprising that she’d ended up famous. If he couldn’t look away from her, it stood to reason the whole world couldn’t look away from her.
He gritted his teeth. And he tried not to remember. He really did try to not remember.
Before
It turned out that her truck was effectively blown up, and while she absolutely refused to let him buy her a new one, she did concede to the fact that while she sorted it all out, she was going to need a ride. And he offered to be that ride. They would be driving from Utah to Nevada over the next few days, and they’d be taking the road trip together. All that would be fine if he didn’t still want to kiss her. And if she hadn’t been very clear that it wasn’t going to happen.
I really like you.
He couldn’t remember the last time a woman had said that to him.
I want you, sure.
But not I really like you.
He liked her too.
It was a hell of a thing.
He took his position back behind the gates to watch her event, and his heart was pounding harder than it did when it was his turn to ride.
When she rode, she rode spectacular, and it put her right up in the number-one spot.
When she got off, and came out of the gate, he pulled her in for a hug, lifting her up off the ground.
“Easy there, Ace,” she said, her arms wrapped around his neck. He put her down, and kept holding on to her. She kept holding on to him.
“Tansey...”
She looked around, then stretched up on her toes, and kissed his cheek.
It was so innocent. A butterfly kiss. A whisper.
And it made him hard as a rock, instantly.
She was not his type.
He would do well to remember that.
She turned beet red, then ducked her head and extricated herself from his hold.
This time, when she went back to put her horse away, he did help with her tack, and he didn’t accept any argument. He was driving her back to the motel. Because they were riding together. And once they were safely ensconced in the truck cab, all the tension that bloomed between them felt like too much to handle.
What was this? He had no idea what the hell it meant. No idea what the hell was happening. He wasn’t...
Did he have a crush on this woman?
That was the weirdest damn thing.
He couldn’t accept that.
They pulled into the motel parking lot and he put the truck in Park, then turned the keys off and pulled them out of the ignition.
“Wait.”
Tansey put her hand on his. He froze. And looked at her.
She scooted across the distance of the truck cab, and put her hand on his cheek.
He just sat. Perfectly still. And he let her decide what to do next. He let her choose.
She leaned across the space, and she pressed her mouth to his. Tentative. Soft.
He sat completely still. And waited. She lifted her other hand, held the other side of his face and pressed more firmly against him, and that was when he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer to him, angling his head and deepening the kiss.
She made a muffled sound, wrapping her arms around his neck.
She kissed him back, all enthusiasm, no skill. He slid his tongue between her lips, and she returned fire, kissing him like she would die if she didn’t.
It was all he could do to keep his hands still. To just keep holding her, rather than letting his palms move over her curves, not pushing his fingertips up beneath her shirt.
