When the song ended, the room clapped for the band. The lead singer announced they would be taking a break, and thejukebox would be playing for a little while. Dammit—she was delicious. They were both mildly out of breath, and her chest had a light coating of sweat that looked more like glitter underneath the lights. He knew he could dip his head down, run his tongue over her skin and taste the salt there. The way she pulled him in was like a drug. Though, the consequence of succumbing to temptation wouldn’t get him any closer to her—that much was true. So he gazed down at her instead, soaking in her smile.
“I haven’t felt this lighthearted in years.” She reached up on her tiptoes, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Thanks for bringing me out tonight. I needed this more than you know.”
Her eyes were soft and sincere, and Justin tilted his head forward. “Blythe, I…” He was cut off by a petite blonde waving and hollering his name from across the room. Blythe let go of his neck and stepped back as the woman ran up to him, her drink spilling over the side of her glass and onto the floor as she moved.
“Justin! It’s been such a long time, how have you been?” She practically crooned the words, reaching out and placing her palm on his chest as she smiled ear to ear.
“Hey, Honey… I’ve been doing just fine. Work is always busy, you know how that is. Life of a farrier, always on the go.” He gave her a courtesy chuckle, then turned to introduce Blythe, so they could get past the pleasantries and get the hell away from her. But as he shifted to where he thought she was standing, she was gone.
He looked around the room trying to find her, finally spotting her at a bar stool with a short glass in front of her. She wasn’t old enough to drink, was she?
“Nice to see you again, Honey, but the gorgeous redhead I came with has moved over there, and I need to join her.” He nodded and wished her a good night. A million thoughts went through his mind as he walked over to the bar. He didn’t knowwhat to say. She was an adult—just not one who could partake in adult beverages yet.
He slid onto the stool next to her, placing his hand at the small of her back. “I didn’t think you were twenty-one, yet?”
“I’m not. It's water, Justin.” Her tone was annoyed. “But I turn twenty-one in November, and I have had alcohol before. I’m not a child.” She paused. “And why were you calling the blondeHoney?”
Justin used his other hand, spinning her to face him. “Her name is Honey, and I’m sorry—I personally don’t drink, and when I saw the glass in front of you, I just assumed. My dad turned into a monster when he did it, and I’ve never touched the stuff.”
“Shit. No, I am the one who’s sorry.” She cupped his bearded cheek with the palm of her hand. “I didn’t mean to be so short with you…”
“Honey is an old acquaintance, nothing more. We went out one time, and that was the end of it. You’re the only woman I’ve ever cooked for, remember?” A faint chuckle left his chest. “You’re the first woman I’ve wanted more than a single date with.” He brushed her hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear. He paused a moment before reaching down, wrapping his fingers around each leg of her bar stool, and jerking it between his knees. It was time.
“I’m done messing around. I’ve been wanting to do this for weeks. The first time was to prove a point, but this time—I’m doing it right. I’m gonna kiss you, the way a first kiss is supposed to be. And I don’t care if we’re in a crowded room full of people.” One side of his mouth grinned, knowing, without a doubt, the look on her face was screaming for him to do it—egging him on, even more.
Justin moved forward, his lips brushing softly against hers. They parted, and he grabbed her bottom lip, pulling it into hismouth as she let out a quiet moan. He willed himself not to growl because—fuck—that moan. It was innocent and involuntary. He’d never been drunk before, but, hell, kissing Blythe was probably what it felt like.
Their kiss deepened as he let his tongue slip in to graze hers. She tasted so damn good.He hadn’t been able to savor her the last time, and this was better than he could’ve imagined. For all that he was, he wished he could drown in her. His strong hands brushed their way up her arms, over her shoulders, and stopped under her curls at the back of her neck—his thumbs resting at her jaw.
He told himself, even if he didn’t care who was watching, they were in public, and he’d kissed her long enough. But she was like water to him, and it was damn near impossible to stop when he was so thirsty. Did she have any idea what she was doing to him? The strength he was using to remain calm and gentle with her? He pulled her in closer, giving himself a moment to muster one final ounce of strength to let go. He willed himself to pull back and gazed into her dusty green eyes for what felt like the millionth time since he’d picked her up that night.
“When I gave you that nickname, I didn’t know you’d taste like sugar, too…” He grinned, his tongue gliding over his bottom lip, then he winked. “Wanna dance to a slow song?”
She took his hand as he led her out onto the dance floor a second time. Her knees were wobbly, and it was a good thing Justin was there to steady her. Never in her life had she been kissed like that. His kiss left a burn in her mouth and a mark on her soul. He tasted like raw, rugged cowboy and peppermint. Whatever the hell flavor that was…it was Justin. She let him bring her in closer as her head fell on his shoulder. He held her there as they swayed, and without warning, she felt a brick from the poorly mortared wall around her heart fall down. Justin had proven, more than once, that she didn’t need all of her defenses around him. He was a safe space, and for the first time since she’d been home, a tear dropped from the corner of her eye.
When the song ended and everyone stepped away from each other, she stayed, arms locked around her cowboy’s neck. Another song came on, and another, and they didn’t break contact. Blythe lifted her head when she heard another man’s voice speaking to them.
“May I have the next?—”
Justin immediately cut him off. “Get the hell outta here, Robby. This beautiful woman is mine, and no, you cannot have the next dance with her.”
Honey appeared next to Robby. “Yeah…” She scoffed the word. “Didn’t you see his tongue down her throat earlier?”
Her tone was salty and dripping with obvious jealousy. Blythe had the urge to shrink or run…whatever was quicker. But Justin beat her to it.
“I’m glad you got the message, Honey. I’m officially taken, dropped off the market, wrapped around this woman’s little finger…” He looked at Robby, still standing there for only God knew what reason. “And don’t ever walk up to the woman I’m clearly holding in my arms and ask her to dance again. Unless you want your nose to meet the end of my fist. Then there won’t be a woman in town, let alone this building, who will consent to stare at your ugly mug for the three minutes it takes to get through a fucking song.”
Blythe watched the three people in front of her, eyes wide. A hand flew over her mouth and she attempted to stifle the gut-rumbling laughter threatening to escape her.
“You think this is funny?” Honey’s tone was angry. “You think you can come traipsing into this town, show up here uninvited, and treat us hometown folks like we’re nothin’?” Her eyes darted to Justin. “And you… I never thought one of our own would jump down our throats for trying to be friendly.”
That was it. She couldn’t hold it back, and the laugh came barreling out of her—a raspberry sounding against the palm of her hand. She knew she shouldn’t be laughing. Justin was clearly upset, but the look on Honey and Robby’s faces was practically comedic. Their eyes were like saucers. Honey was one too many drinks deep, and her lipstick had smeared onto her upper lip. Justin took off his hat and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand.
“You know what, Honey, we’re just going to see ourselves outta here. Robby is lookin’ for a dance partner, though. Maybe you can give him a hand?” A facetious grin spread across his face.
“Ready to roll, sugar?” He towered over her, smirking. She clutched his hand as he led her out of the dance hall. He pushed through the door and walked her straight to the passenger side of his red Chevy pickup.
Blythe sucked in a breath before blurting out, “You said you were off the market, officially taken?”
