Trenton licked his lips and cracked a wide grin. “I did.”
Her cheeks went pink again.
The song changed, a slow and easy number. Trenton spun to set his drink down and held his hand out to Andie. “May I have this dance?”
Andie set her bottle beside his on the tabletop and rested her silky hand in his. “Sure.”
They headed to a spot beside a couple who was already swaying, hand in hand. Trenton reveled in the fact that he’d finally get to hold her close. Very close. Throughout the week, he’d been on his best behavior—like no lingering touches as he helped her onto the horse.
But now, as he wrapped his hands around the warm curve of Andie’s hips, the burning chemistry blazed fire hot.
Andie draped her arms over his shoulders, her satin-like heat grazing the revealed skin along his neckline.Yes.The soft, tropical scent of her filled his senses, almost as wonderful as the warmth of her curvy body so close to his.
It wasn’t the way Betty had taught him to dance years back—patterned steps while hand in hand. Those types were perfect when dancing with guests like Linda. Polite yet playful, a safe distance between the dancers. But being next to Andie brought back all those feelings of being young. A near embrace of a dance, the slow shift in weight from one foot to the next. No numbers to count. No leading or following. Just the blessed connection luring them into something more.
“You said you’ve never kissed a girl who ate snails before,” Andie said softly over the music. “Funny, because I’ve never kissed a cowboy before.”
What was this—an invitation?
Trenton pulled back to gauge her expression. Andie held his gaze, the dangling lights reflected in their hazel depths, and spotted a dare of sorts.
“You think we should fix that?” he asked as if the fact was somehow broken.
Andie licked her lips, and heaven help him, Trenton wanted nothing more than to move in and kiss her right then and there.Say yes, Andie. What do we have to lose?
“I’m thinking about it,” she admitted.
The comment, as coy as it might be, was a fresh-lit match to the fuse inside of him. But he didn’t have a green light just yet, so he straightened up once more. In this close position, they weren’t quite cheek to cheek—he had a good seven inches on her, after all—but they were close.
And what was he thinking about kissing her for already? He hardly knew Andie. Sure, he’d shared a whole lot of late-night kisses after the weekend dances by the oak tree—mostly with girls he’d only just met—but he was a man now. And Andie, there was no mistaking—she was definitely a woman.
Trenton had a rogue side to him, no doubt. But he’d been taught to be a gentleman first and foremost, even if he hadn’t mastered the trait just yet. One thing he could say for himself is that he wastruly interested in her. He wanted to know all he could about Andie.
“What were your parents like?” he asked.
“My father worked a lot,” she said. “He always put emphasis onearninghis playtime—or in other words, the many vacations he planned. And my mom, she originally wanted to run her father’s company one day, but she set her aspirations aside to support my father in his. She was the only financial heir one way or another, so I guess it didn’t feel like much of a sacrifice. But I’ve always wondered if a spark in her had died out, you know? Like she was just…going through the motions. I wish I would have asked her about it before she died.”
Trenton smoothed a comforting hand along her upper back, hoping to counter the pain he heard in her voice. And vulnerability too. He hadn’t expected her to share such a personal thing. “I’m sorry that you never had that chance,” he said under his breath.
“Me too.” She nodded slightly, then rested her head on his chest and sighed. “I’m so curious to know if I was right. Did she really regret giving up her pursuits, or had I only imagined it? And if she did, I wonder if I could have encouraged her to get back into it, you know? I mean, now that I’m an adult.”
“Yeah,” he said. “I know what it feels like to wish I could have a do over. Or somehow get a few minutes with someone beyond the grave.” Was that ever true.
“What are your parents like?” she asked.
“I’ve never known them. My grandfather raised me. And Milton…he was strict, quiet, and strong. He taught me to work hard and to respect the animals, the land, and their creator. My livelihood depended on all three.”
Andie pulled away from his chest to meet his eyes. “Your livelihood?”
“I’m a rancher first and foremost,” he explained. “I never planned to run The Homestead. I enjoy it here—the staff, the environment, and the guests—but ranching’s my first love.”
She grinned, seeming to study him for a blink before curling back into his arms. “Right. You said you never met your parents,” she said softly. “What happened, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“I don’t mind. But the dumb truth is, I don’t exactly know. They’re dead, that’s all Milt would tell me. He was a man of secrets, and the more I asked the more tight-lipped and vexed he became. He insisted that some things were better left unknown, and that my past—which involved his as well—should never see the light of day.”
A recollection of Wilson’s clue popped into his mind.
“Trenton,” Andie said, a sense of devastation thick on her tone. She pulled back to look up at him once more. “That’s…” She shook her head, eyes tense with compassion. “That must be maddening.”
