“You forgot your jacket?” an extremely familiar voice asked from my left. I knew it was Dallas without needing proof, but I still swiveled to take him in, shivering again.
In a worn leather jacket that looked like it had some kind of shearling on the inside, he had his usual Tornado collared shirt on and at the V-shape there, he had something white beneath it. But it wasn’t what was on his body that captivated me. “I did have a jacket. Someone else is wearing it now,” I told him, eyeing the green knit cap that was molded to his head.
The scowl on his face disappeared instantly.
“Do you want me to check and see if I have that blanket?” the dad asked, reminding me where he was.
“Oh, that’s okay. You don’t have to do that,” I told him even though, if he’d been just about anyone else, I would have taken it. I didn’t want him to get the wrong idea after I’d spent so much time keeping things casual between us.
Dallas was standing in front of me by the time I finished talking, so tall I had to tip my head back as I wondered why he was standing so close.
Before I could ask, or figure it out, he pulled one arm behind his back and peeled a sleeve off and then followed that up by drawing his arm out of the second sleeve. In the time it took me to ask myself why he was taking his jacket off, he crouched in front of me and drew one of my arms away from my chest, then slid my hand into the sleeve he’d just vacated, all while I watched him like a total idiot.
He was putting his jacket on me.
My mouth had to be slightly gaped as he slipped my arm fully into the warm cocoon, drew the leather around my back, and then, his face and chest inches from mine, those hazel eyes catching my brown ones and keeping them there, he pulled my other wrist away from me and guided it into the other sleeve.
In a rare moment of my life, I didn’t know what to say.
I definitely had no idea what the hell to say when his fingers went to the bottom of the jacket resting on top of my thighs and engaged the zipper, pulling the tab up straight between the valley between my breasts, up until it notched right below where my throat started.
Dallas smiled at me a little as he leaned toward me—and for one stupid second, I don’t know why, I thought he was going to kiss me—but all I felt was a tug at the back of my hair and I knew he’d pulled my loose hair out of the collar. He narrowed his eyes and I narrowed mine right back, and the next thing I knew, he reached behind me again and tucked the rope of hair he was holding back inside his jacket.
And he still smiled at me, just a little, little, little thing, as he said, “Better.” His hand went to the red baseball cap on my head, and he pulled the brim down a half-inch on my forehead. “Nice hat.”
It was that, that had me smirking at him as I soaked in the heat his body had left in the soft material of the inside of the jacket. “It came broken in to the shape of my head.” I huddled into the jacket. “I don’t ever give things back. You’ve just learned that the hard way.”
He smiled, slowly coming to his feet from the crouch he’d been in.
“I like your cap,” I told him honestly. The emerald green made his hazel eyes pop like crazy. Plus, it was just fucking cute. “Did Miss Pearl make it for you?”
“I made it,” he said with a twist to his mouth. “She taught me how.”
The stupid smile that came over my face had me staring at him in awe. I even slapped my hand right over the left side of my chest. “Are you real?”
Dallas tapped my chin. “I’ll knit you one, Peach.”
“I could have given you my jacket,” the poor, poor dad beside me piped in, breaking my trance of love.
Dallas’s attention instantly moved toward the man, and as the words “She’s fine” came out of his mouth, he turned that tall, muscular body and parked himself in the tight space between both of us. He didn’t fit. Not at all. His elbow pretty much landed on my lap and most of his thigh and calf were pressed and aligned to my matching body parts.
I shifted to my left an inch and the length of his leg followed me, his elbow staying exactly where it was.
What the hell was happening?
“How’s it going, Kev?” Dallas asked the dad, still smothering me but somehow his attention elsewhere.
Hmm. Shoving my hands into the pockets of his jacket, the back of my left hand hit something crumpled. Paper. Making sure he wasn’t looking at me, I pulled what I figured were balled-up receipts out, being nosey and wondering what the hell he’d bought.
But it wasn’t recycled white paper I pulled out.
They looked like Post-it notes. Plain, yellow Post-it notes like I’d seen in his truck. That just made me more curious.
Both men were talking as I started opening the notes as quietly as possible, really not caring if he caught me in the act by that point. But he didn’t turn to look at me. He was too busy talking about who he thought the Texas Rebels were going to try and recruit next season.
The ball of paper was really two square-shaped notes stacked together.
I read one and then I read the other.
