“Yeah,” he said, still grinning. “They are.”
“All right, all right, all right!” Uncle Tex yelled into the mic again. “Let’s get this concert started.” With that, he fitted the mic into the stand, straightened his guitar, and looked to Trace.
Uncle Trace started playing, his guitar now plugged in and full of juice. The riff played over the backyard, Trace’s fingers moving as deftly as they ever had. Uncle Otis and Uncle Luke joined in at the same time, and Uncle Tex stepped up to the mic.
They had not lost a single iota of musical talent and band camaraderie though they hadn’t been making albums for several years now, and Cash let himself get lost in the vibe, the beat, the rise and fall of the music, the tension in the lyrics, and the powerful crooning of his uncle’s voice.
The song ended, and Cash whooped and cheered. Country Quad slid into a slower, softer ballad, and several people in the audience started to dance. Uncle Morris and Aunt Leigh, Mav and his daughter Emilia, Joey and Georgia, their smiles as wide as the sky.
Cash turned toward Lark, his eyebrows raised. “Dance with me?”
She looked horrified for a moment, and she glanced around as others paired off and danced—and not just couples. She seemed to realize everyone was doing it, and they wouldn’t stand out.
When her eyes met his again, Cash found the glint of desire there and the way she looked at him made his whole body sing. She eased into his arms, and Cash kneaded her closer just because he could. There wasn’t a lot of room on the patio, and with everyone swaying left and right, he could only rotate with her in a very tight radius.
At least that was what Cash told himself as he kept Lark pressed right against his chest, his feet barely moving more than an inch every time he turned with her. The song continued, and he let his eyes drift closed, something pure and wonderful winding through him.
He had no idea if Lark could feel this too, because she was used to being alone or in a small group, and nothing about his family was either of those things. Because he could, he leaned his head down, so his mouth once again practically touched the shell of her ear.
“Thanks for coming with me tonight.”
“Are you kidding?” she whispered.
“No.” He pulled away and looked at her.
“This is a free concert by Country Quad. I’m still sort of stunned I’m here.” She gave him a smile, her pretty eyes reflecting the tea lights as he rotated into the perfect angle.
His eyes dropped to her lips. Yes, they’d only been dating for three days, but they spent a lot of time together.All day and all evening, he told himself. That had to count for something in the dating world, didn’t it?
The slow, country night seemed to evaporate around him. The peace disappeared, and a wildness entered Cash’s bloodstream he hadn’t felt since sitting on the bare back of a two-ton bull. Somehow, kissing Lark equated to that, and Cash knew that he had to let himself go, nod to the men helping him and holding him up, and then just…ride.
He leaned closer, the brim of his cowboy hat bumping up against Lark’s forehead. “Sorry,” he murmured, quickly swiping it away. His pulse jumped around like a frog who’d swallowed popping candy, and he now wasn’t sure if he should ask permission to kiss her or just go for it.
The moment lengthened, and since Cash knew his uncles’ music, he also knew his window for kissing Lark was shrinking, and fast. Note by note, in fact.
He’d done dangerous things before, and he wasn’t sure if he made a conscious decision or if he simply acted. He knew he pressed his cowboy hat to Lark’s back, whispered, “I like holding you like this,” and then he touched his lips to hers.
The kiss started as a simple touch, a moment of time that lengthened and bound him to her in a way Cash had never experienced before. He suddenly remembered what to do, and his free hand swept up and into Lark’s hair as he kissed her, and kissed her, and kissed her.
CHAPTER
NINETEEN
Cash tasted like coconut and cream. His full lips fit perfectly against hers, and he knew how to both give and take in a way that had Lark’s pulse scattering through her veins.
He touched her in a way she hadn’t been touched in a long time, from a firm press of his palm against the middle of her back to his fingers drifting lazily through her hair along the side of her neck.
His aunt and uncle had put out heaters to ward off the Wyoming chill, and Lark felt like she and Cash had created their own bubble inside that. And it was hot—and getting hotter.
“Lark,” he whispered, the word like music in his deep, cowboy tone. She chased after his mouth again, kissing him this time, because he’d started something she didn’t want to end.
Something inside her told her to pull away, but it still took her a few long seconds—and just one more kiss—until she could force herself to do it.
Her awareness returned almost instantly, and Cash turned away from her and stepped half in front of her in the same move. It was then that she realized the song had ended. Not only that,but the last smatterings of applause waned as well, which meant she’d kissed him for far too long.
A hint of panic paraded through her. Had she ruined things with him before they’d even truly begun?
No, she told herself. That kiss was only the start of something she hoped would be very, very good for her.
