She’s not giving up. It’s hot as hell.
“Raising my son. Running a ranch. Doing bad things,” I say.
Surprise flickers across her face. “You have a kid?”
“Yeah.”
Something softens in her expression. And that should end this. Being a single dad means I can’t just date anyone. I have to date someone who is safe for my son.
Someone who will love him, too.
Instead, she steps closer.
Close enough, her thigh brushes mine. Close enough, I feel her breath at my neck.
“You don’t look seem the settling-down type, are you with his mom?” she murmurs.
“Neither do you. And fuck no.”
Truth is, I would settle down. I can picture myself getting old with someone who loves my son like their own. A woman who sees the beauty on my ranch. That isn’t afraid of how possessive I am over the people I love. Someone who will help me build the ranch into something our children will one day run.
But I see more than she thinks. See the confidence she wears like armor. The way her body leans closer, even while her mouth keeps up the bravado.
She fights control. But she wants someone strong enough to take it away for a while. To show her what letting go feels like. To show her what riding a cowboy really means.
My hand lifts without permission, brushing a curl off her shoulder. Soft as hell.
Her breath stutters. And she doesn’t move away.
“You should go back inside,” I tell her.
“Why?” she asks, batting her lashes.
“Because you’re playin’ with somethin’ you don’t understand.”
“And you’re not?” she counters, her eyes shimmering with defiance.
That hits harder than it should. Because the truth is, I haven’t felt this pull towards someone in years. If ever. Even with Ashley, Wyatt’s mom. It was never a real love relationship. It was a necessity.
But this girl, it’s like gravity shifted. Like my body made the call before my brain could argue.
I place the cigarette on her lips, and she takes a drag, not breaking eye contact this time. And it takes everything I have not to spin her round and take her against this damn wall.
I am desperate to be that cigarette.
She blows the smoke right into my face, and I inhale, leaning a little closer. “Go back inside, firefly.”
She doesn’t move. Instead, her fingers hook lightly into my belt loop, stopping me from stepping away.
Every muscle in my body locks tight. Fuck, I want her.
“You’re the one telling me to stay away,” she says softly. “But you’re not going anywhere.”
She’s right. And that scares the hell out of me.
I close my hand around her wrist, not pushing her away. Just holding her there. Because she’s making my mind glitch, and I’m not sure how to react.
“For a smart girl,” I whisper near her ear, “you’re real bad at listening.”