Page 43 of The Cowboy’s Forever Promise

“Hi,” she said. “You’re just in time. Please help me, I think the zipper is stuck.”

“Wow!” He grinned as he walked to her back. “You look gorgeous.” He quickly fixed the zipper. Looking at her in the mirror, he slowly slid it further down.

“Up, not down!” Laughing, she looked at him over her shoulder.

“You sure?”

Nodding, she lifted her hair that had been hanging over her one shoulder as usual. As he slowly moved the zipper up, he bent down to trail his lips over her skin until he’d pulled it all the way up. The dress had a halter neck, leaving her shoulders bare.

She let go of her hair and slipping his hands down over her arms, he pulled her against him. “Look how beautiful you are,” he murmured against her hair. Inhaling her scent, her softness, her low laugh, he slipped his fingers through her hair. “Like satin, I love it.”

Her eyes glittering, she stared back at him. Since Thursday, neither of them had mentioned the fact that she was leaving the next day. It hung in the air around them, though, no matter where they were or what they were doing.

Dropping his hands he turned away. “I need a shower.”

“June said George could stay with Daisy if that’s okay with you?” she called after him.

Unbuttoning his shirt, he slid it off his shoulders. Instead of dropping it on the floor like he used to do, he threw it in the laundry basket Abby had put in the one corner of the room. “Good idea.”

She giggled. “Look at you. Using the laundry basket and everything.”

The giggle went straight to his loins. “If you don’t want to end up in bed, I suggest you wait for me in the living room.”

Turning his back on her, he marched to the bathroom. His body was on fire, he was literally aching to be with her, but she was dressed and ready for the dance. And she was leaving tomorrow.

He quickly got rid of the rest of his clothing and dropped everything in the laundry basket in the bathroom. Shaking his head, he got into the shower and opened the tap. Lifting his head toward the water, his heart sighed. How the hell was he supposed to get over her when everything in his house reminded him of her?

A soft sound behind him made him turn his head. And there she was, naked and beautiful and so sexy, his knees felt weak.

Pulling her closer, he hugged her tightly against him. For a moment they just stood like that while water poured over them. But the fire inside him was raging and she was still here. Pushing her softly against the side of the shower, he bent down and kissed her. They didn’t have much time.

As long legs closed around him, desire roared through his blood and everything else faded.

*

Abby was still a bit breathless by the time they were finally in the truck. Her hair was still not quite dry, so she’d left it hanging loose. George was on the back seat, they were going to drop him off first. As she looked up, the last rays of the sun hit one of the windows, illuminating the whole house for a split second.

“Wow,” she breathed.

“Your house … it really is so beautiful.”

He followed her gaze. “I had no idea what kind of house I wanted when we moved here. Dylan took Walker’s house—you’ve heard the story?”

She nodded. “Yes, June told me. So very sad.”

He nodded. “Anyway, I didn’t mind building a new house, so Dylan took Walker’s. I knew I wanted a big porch but had no idea what it should look like until I saw a picture of a house with green shutters somewhere. I can’t even remember where. The white walls, the green shutters, the black roof.” He turned to look at her. “What does your dream home look like?”

Moving closer to him, she put her head against his arm. “I love a wide porch.” She couldn’t tell him his house was actually her dream home.

*

“So, this is the famous Graff Hotel?” Abby asked as they walked to the entrance. It was about half an hour after she’d popped into Dylan’s and June’s house to drop George off, but her legs were still a bit shaky after Carson’s passionate lovemaking. It was probably the artist in him, but if what he’d done back in the shower was any indication, he had a rich and creative imagination. Inhaling shakily, she tried to focus on where they were. “It’s a beautiful building.”

“We are very proud of our Graff,” Carson said. “It has recently been restored. You haven’t really seen much of Marietta, have you?” he asked as he opened the door for her to enter.

“A little. I’ve been to Grey’s Saloon, and you’ve taken me to that Italian place …”

“Rocco’s.”