The Heart - Kate Stewart Page 0,72
he said as he parked the car in the busy station at the Fort Worth Stockyards. The Yards were a mix of industrial and southern in feel. A stomping ground for cowboys and girls alike. It was a strip of bars, shops, and eateries. My parents had taken us here a few times to see them release the longhorns out on the street, a daily tradition. It was as Texas as Texas could get.
The excitement in me had built throughout the day. Jack, without knowing it, had given me the chance to break free, get out of the norm, and blow off the steam that had been building inside of me for some time.
“I’m so ready for this,” I beamed at him.
“C’mere, beb,” he said in thick Cajun as he parked the car and turned to look at me. I leaned over the console, and he cupped my face then pulled me in the rest of the way. Our mouths met with tenderness as Jack kissed me with passion and need. Ache brewed inside me the way it always did when he kissed me like he meant it.
And Jack always kissed me like he meant it.
“I think I’ve fallen in love,” Jack said slowly as my breath hitched and fear shook me, “with your mouth.”
He saw the relief cover my features, and his jaw tightened. Without pause, I got out of the car and felt lighter in the night air.
Jack met me at the hood of the car with a scold. “I get your doors for you.”
“Sorry,” I smiled ruefully. “I keep forgetting.”
“So I’ll keep reminding you.” His words were a little harsh, but I knew it had everything to do with my panic back in the car. I ignored his silence as we made our way inside the honky-tonk, fingers clasped. Music reverberated through my every pore as the bass pounded throughout the crowded bar. Jack never let go of my hand as he summoned the all-legs bartender in short black shorts, who noticed Jack immediately and made it her mission to get over to him.
“Two bourbons on ice please. Maker’s if you have it.” He squeezed my hand as I stiffened behind him, watching the woman in front of us shamelessly eye fuck him. Even with his reassurance, I quickly surveyed the rest of the crowd around us and saw the eyes of several women glued to him. I looked back to Jack, who was dressed in a button-down, collared, dark blue shirt, dark blue jeans, and new black boots. His hair was a lightly gelled chaos of blond. His profile alone lit by the amber light of the bar had my mouth watering. Possessiveness took hold as I held his hand tighter and he looked over at me with a wink.
Jack wasn’t immune to the attention he was getting by simply standing at the bar. He was well aware of it and shifted slightly on his feet. Though his demeanor screamed confidence, I could tell by the tick in his jaw that it bothered him. It made me even more curious. I leaned into him just as his hand twisted in my hair and he pulled my lips to his for a brief but message-filled kiss. When he pulled away, I saw it. I was the only woman he wanted at that moment, and that was enough for me.
When our drinks arrived, we stood at a table nearby, admiring the people on the dance floor. I turned to Jack, who silently watched the couples.
“Who taught you to dance?”
A pained, faint smile crossed his lips briefly. “A friend. You?”
I smiled. “My parents.”
“Well,” he said thickly as he watched me drain my glass. “Let’s see what we’re working with.”
He grabbed my hand, exuding confidence as he led me to the floor. Clinging to him through the dense crowd, my hand on his bicep, I followed behind, unsure if I would be able to keep up as he made space for us then turned to face me. Jack gripped my body tightly and began to move. I looked up to him as he started to two-step me effortlessly around the floor. I fumbled slightly with my steps as he commanded my attention.
“Look at me, beb, not your feet.”
I’d been out dancing once or twice in my life, but to music completely different, yet as I looked into his eyes, I let my body relax in trust, and soon we were in sync. Jack never stopped his feet, song after song