“Well, if you’re ever in LA, I’ll take you.”
“I’d love that.” More than he cared to admit. He could imagine her in a bikini, hair windblown, her gorgeous body drenched in sunlight as she gave him a sexy, carefree smile. He scowled at his penne.Wishful thinking.
He suddenly wanted an excuse to take her to Oklahoma City. To show her Bricktown and the canal, stroll through the Paseo, check out the Cowboy Hall of Fame—or whatever its official name was these days—visit the Memorial.
They ate their food in silence, breaths mingling in the space between them. He’d removed his headlamp once the moon appeared between the low clouds, and the orb’s cool light gave her face an ethereal glow.
Behind them, the tent rippled noisily in the wind. The tent they’d be sharing again soon.
He swallowed hard.
Last night he hadn’t known her yet. Not really. He’d been drawn to her pretty face, her strong curves—her need—but had known little of her mind.
Tonight felt different. He might only know a sliver of the whole Lindsey, but he liked that sliver. A lot.
“How old are you?” she asked, startling him out of his thoughts.
“Thirty-four. You?”
She finished chewing and dabbed at her lips with slender fingers. “Thirty-two.”
“A baby.”
Her little puff of laughter warmed him, but she sobered quickly. “You ever been married?” She placed her empty dinner packet into one of the zip-top freezer bags he kept for carting out food trash, not meeting his gaze.
“No. Never even come close.”
She looked at him, her eyes bright and warm and curious.
“Not that I have anything against marriage, or even a family.” He finished the last bite of his food and sealed up their trash. “I guess I haven’t met the right person yet.”
Or maybe he’djustmet her.
Whoa. The butterflies in his stomach took flight. As a kid, he’d sometimes watched oldLove Boatreruns on TV and wondered how people could fall in love over the course of a single cruise. Suddenly, those stories didn’t seem so far-fetched.
Not that he was in love with Lindsey.Not yet.
Never, if he was smart.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked, her voice breathy on the little white cloud of air that escaped her lips.
“Because I want to kiss you.” So much for smart.
She inhaled sharply. “But I thought...”
He sighed and lifted his hand to stroke her cheek. “What makes sense and what I want are not necessarily the same thing.”
Her eyes widened slightly and she skimmed her fingers along the hair on his jawline, a touch he felt clear to his toes.
She was quickly becoming his own personal opioid.
“Our timing is rotten,” he said. “I don’t want to take advantage.”
“Maybe I do.”
His breath caught in his throat. He closed his eyes, heart racing as she leaned in and pressed her lips lightly to his.
Using what he considered medal-worthy restraint to keep from devouring her on the spot, he let her set the pace. Let her coax his mouth open with her soft tongue, let her slip inside and strike sparks across his nerves as she delved deep, let her unzip his jacket and slide her cold hands up his suddenly blazing hot torso.
