His eyes narrowed as he honed in on her. “I did. I don’t know if your feelings are the same. If I read every signal wrong in there, tell me, and I’ll shut up.” He paused and stepped closer to her. “But just so we’re clear…I want you. I’ve wanted you since the moment I picked your ass up off the ground. Even if you hated me for the whole thing.”
Inhaling the cool night air, she shifted her stance, a soft smile appearing on her lips.
“I didn’t hate you for any of it. I took one look at you and those ocean eyes ripped through me so fast—I just didn’t know how to handle it, so I got angry.” Her eyes dropped to stare at the cute cowgirl boots she was wearing. “Can I call myself your girlfriend?”
Justin gripped her hips and growled in his throat. “You can call yourself my girlfriend, my woman, the only female to ever proposition me on the side of the highway—whatever the hell you want, as long as you call yourself mine.”
One more beat and his mouth was all over hers, his tongue sweeping inside. The feeling that melted through her from head to toe was like a flame, pooling in her core. Feelings she had experienced before were only intensified by this man. His fingers on her hips dug into her skin through the fabric of her skirt, and her hips rocked forward of their own accord. She couldfeel his hard length against her through his Wranglers, and the urge to grind into him further was almost more than she could handle.
Call it instinct, lust, desire, love—no, not that. He was incredible, and she loved being with him. He was sexy and fun, and his body was stacked as hell. Everything a man should be—but this couldn’t be love. She didn’t know what that was. She thought she loved a man before…but now she wasn’t so sure she could trust that feeling anymore.
She was stunned when Justin ripped his mouth from hers abruptly. His lips were visibly wet with their kiss, his chest rising and falling as he breathed.
“Unless you want to end up on your back in the bed of this truck, we better get you home.” He winked and opened her door, motioning for her to climb inside.
He wouldn’t really lay her down in the bed of his truck, would he?
JUSTIN
Oh, he would’ve absolutely laid her down. His alpha male instinct to claim her fully would’ve taken over if he let her rock against him one more time. What little control he had would’ve snapped. Even after dropping her off and driving the rest of the way home, he still needed a cold shower and some Andy Griffith. Her hips were like soft pillows, and the little sounds she keptmaking while he was drinking her in were too much. Damnit, he wanted her bad. But he couldn’t have her—not yet.
They’d just established an official relationship, and by her own admission, she had never been touched by a man. She still wasn’t healed from her engagement that burnt to the ground. This could take some time.
Was it lust he felt? Hell yeah, it was—he wouldn’t be a man if it wasn’t. She was drop dead gorgeous, and fiery and sexy and fun…but it was more than that. His soul cried out for her. He wanted to be near her all the time. When he wasn’t with Blythe, he couldn’t count a second that he didn’t try to convince himself to go to her—or call her to come to him.
Cold shower it was… Or not. There were other ways to remedy this situation, and his head had a bottomless stash of images he’d collected of her since the first moment they’d officially met. He groaned and tore his shirt over his head as he walked up the stairs to his bedroom. He could adjust every flawless image he hoarded of her accordingly, and work them into a shower—that wouldn’t be a problem at all. So, he did just that.
After hisnot so coldshower, he slipped on his pajama bottoms and laid in his bed. He knew, without a doubt, that he’d sleep like a baby. He had zero shame or regret for what he’d done. The woman was perfection. The way he’d worshiped her in his mind, the things she’d said to him… The things she’d done to him as his hands roamed every invisible curve and crevice of her luscious body. Someday he would touch her and feel her for real—every fucking inch. And when he did—all bets were off.
Max: I don’t like it when people touch my things, sweetheart.
She tucked her phone back in her pocket. It was the Fourth of July parade, and they’d spent all week putting together the float for Silo Springs. She didn’t have the energy to deal with Max’s stupidity. He was in Chicago. This was all a mind game to him, just like it had been from the beginning.
Chris drove his F-350 Dually, pulling a trailer that felt like a mile long with Blythe, the girls, and a handful of bunk boys riding on top of hay bales. The bunk boys were as bad as Addie and Evie. She took the girls to the store earlier and picked up three giant bags of throwing candy. She should’ve known who she was dealing with. They were down to their last bag, and the girls were looking up at her with panic in their eyes.
“What if we run out?” Evolette bounced her knees, tears brimming at the thought of riding the rest of the way through the parade empty-handed. Blythe stood and walked over to Toby, who was holding a lapful of Dum Dum suckers.
“Hey, Toby, is there any way you’d sacrifice and give me your stash for the girls? I underestimated everyone's throwing enthusiasm, and Evie is about to be heartbroken…” He smiled up at her and nodded. Toby was the foreman in his mid-twenties, like most of the boys. He was trying out a mustache, like every other guy on planet Earth sinceTop Gun Maverickcame out.
“Thanks…” She patted his shoulder and pulled out the bottom part of her shirt so the guy could fill it up with what candy he had left. She returned to her original hay bale and put on her serious face.
“Now, girls…you’re looking at the bottom of the barrel. We probably have about twenty minutes or so left of this thing, and we want it to last. So, make your throws count, okay?”
They clapped and each took their share of suckers from her shirt apron.
Adelaide embraced her in a hug. “Thank you. And I’ll tell Toby thanks when we stop.”
Blythe gave her a squeeze, and Evie jumped in, too. When they rounded the last corner of the parade route and Chris hit the brakes, everyone cheered. The cowboys leapt off their hay bales and started chest bumping and bro hugging—like they’d just won the Super Bowl or a roping tournament.
“Boys…” Blythe huffed, exaggerating the word and rolling her eyes. Evie broke into a fit of giggles, and Addie flitted off, remembering to thank Toby for sharing. The town of Amber Ridge had a park the size of a football field right in the center, where the yearly picnic would be held afterward. As she helped the girls into the backseat of their daddy’s truck, she drew in a sharp breath.
“The watermelon! I forgot the stinking watermelon!” She dropped her hands to her sides and looked up at the sky,realizing she would need to ask Chris, or find a ride with someone else, to go back and get it.
“I can take you back…” His voice still rippled through her every time she heard it.
Justin was riding his horse in the parade, banners with his brand,Forge Farrier Co,hanging on either side of his favorite palomino. A smile twisted at her lips, and she lifted her arm to shield her face from the sun. She turned and looked up at her man, sitting high on his mount.
Chris popped his head out the driver’s side window and waved them off as Blythe shut the back door, locking the girls inside.
