Curvy Girls Can't Date Cowboys - Kelsie Stelting Page 0,55
parked outside the gates. When he let me out of the pickup, he intertwined his fingers with mine and didn’t let go until we reached the white wooden door.
What did it mean that Ray held my hand? Would he continue after today, or was this a one-time thing?
It couldn’t continue, I realized. My parents would never allow me to date, especially not someone like Ray. But Cori was right; what they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. This was my chance to live. To experience life instead of watching everyone else through the video screen.
Inside the barn, dust and hay wafted up to my nose, making me cough. Instinctively, I reached for my inhaler, and then my heart stopped. My inhaler. I’d completely forgotten to go by the pharmacy to get my refill.
“Everything okay?” Ray asked, waiting by a ladder nailed to the wall.
With my chest still tight, I coughed again and nodded. I would be okay with deep breaths and some relaxation. I had my breathing treatment this morning, and it had been nearly a year since my last real asthma flare-up. I was just panicking over nothing.
“You head up first,” Ray said. “I’ll be right here.”
I stepped closer and eyed the worn wooden planks nailed to the wall. “You sure these will hold?”
“Dad and I installed them ourselves. You insulting my workmanship?”
I rolled my eyes. “Your precious pride is still intact. Unless the wood breaks. Then you—and your pride—will be squished.”
“I’ll take my chances.”
I gripped onto one of the planks, feeling the soft wood and grit of dirt under my fingertips. Using all my strength, I hauled myself up, noticing spider eggs in corners and dirt caked into the cracks on the wall. Soon, my head poked into a different level, and when I reached the top, I gasped.
Hay was pressed up against the walls like I’d expected, but Ray had strung twinkle lights around the rafters, had a big quilt spread in the middle, along with a cooler and a guitar. An electric furnace made this room so much warmer than outside
I turned to him for an explanation, but as he easily climbed into the upper level, all he did was smile.
“This is amazing,” I breathed. I had to take steadying breaths so my asthma wouldn’t flare up from the exertion of getting up here. Or the overwhelming flutter of my heart.
With a shrug, he moved to sit on the quilt and patted the spot next to him. My heart pounded right along with the butterflies in my stomach as I sat next to him. “Who would have thought grumpy Ray had this in him.”
Taking his guitar, he said, “I’m full of surprises.” His fingers gently moved over the strings, familiar but getting acquainted. “Can I play you a song?”
Biting my lip, I nodded. “I’d like that.”
He shrugged off his coat, and turning his eyes from me to the instrument before him, he strummed some even beats, mixing the cords with a tap against the smooth wood. Soon his voice joined the cords, and it poured straight through me, to my heart, where the notes swirled around and touched every part of me. I thought it might be awkward, having him sing for me, but something about him and me just felt right.
The song was the perfect mix between fun and sweet, and it lit up the hayloft even more than the twinkle lights. As he put the guitar down, my eyes felt hot. “No one’s ever sang a song for me before.”
“I loved singing for you.” He reached out and ran his rough fingertips over my cheek, tucking my hair back behind my ear.
My breath caught in my throat while my heart raced wildly. His eyes moved to my lips, and suddenly I couldn’t stop looking at his, imagining what they would feel like on my own.
There were only inches between us now.
Millimeters.
And then his lips touched mine. Strong, sure movements meeting my tentative ones. The smell of him blended with the aroma of hay and dust and pure excitement. This was what it felt like to kiss. To live.
Thirty-Eight
We spent the rest of the afternoon in the hayloft until I got the niggling feeling that time was running out. I hated moving from my spot with Ray, talking about nothing and everything, listening to him sing, and melting into his world.
“What time is it?” I finally asked.
He grabbed his phone from his pocket and after looking at the screen, said, “Four.”