Jake (Downton Cowboys #2) - Miley Maine Page 0,10

hands reach down to touch her hair. She looks up at me with those eyes that suddenly seem bigger, questioning.

My fingers rake through her hair from both sides, tips making first contact with her scalp and I gently grip, pulling her upward.

And she submissively rises.

Slowly, her legs bring her up to me, bent forward as her necklace twinkles in my field of vision. The view from where I’m sitting is everything I could dream of, yet my gaze remains fixed on her anticipating eyes.

Finally, my lips claim hers in a kiss that carries a private code with everything I’m feeling. All of my yearning, my anger, my desire, my loneliness… and my awe of her.

All of it in a passionate kiss that feels a lifetime overdue.

She doesn’t resist.

In fact, her tongue finds mine, engaging in a welcoming dance of craving.

Just when I close my eyes, losing myself in the taste of her, she suddenly pulls away.

“Uh—” A brief sigh escapes her lips that are still glistening, and she blinks at me, almost in disbelief. “I really should go,” she whispers apologetically, straightening up.

Her energy screams of defenses that are barely struggling to stay alive.

“Will you come visit me tomorrow?” I mindlessly utter.

I’m not even going to pretend that I don’t care about seeing her again.

“Only if you want me to.” The shadow of a smile fleets across her face.

“Please,” I whisper, looking up at her.

“It’s a date.”

Without another word, she turns around and walks out. I hear her steps descending, fading outside before the main door opens and closes again.

My heartbeats regain their rhythm, and, as I slowly stand up, I furrow my eyebrows thinking about our kiss. My fingers make their way over my lips, touching where hers were just moments ago.

Belle, who are you? And, what have you done to me?

Before I can delve into my thoughts any deeper, the phone downstairs starts to ring. Careful not to become dizzy again, I slide my feet into my slippers and carefully make my way downstairs.

It doesn’t stop ringing, and when I pick it up, I hear loud noises in the background.

“Hey, I’m at Reid’s,” Frankie yells out over the music at the bar. “Wanna join me?”

“Um—” I look around. What’s better than a night out after a hit on the head?

“Yeah, I’m comin’.”

Knowing that thoughts of Belle will keep me up tonight, I figure the best thing to do is get a few beers in me before it’s time for bed. Hanging up, I head back upstairs and grab my boots before making my way out and into the car.

Is driving the best idea, what with my suspected concussion and impending drunkenness? No, I call on Buck to drive me.

As soon as I walk into the bar, I see Frankie and his friend, Luther, at our usual table. Strutting over, a group of familiar women stares at me before quickly turning away.

That’s the problem with small-town folk. Most people know everybody else. Everyone is bound to know your story. It’s amazing that Belle knows nothing of it, which proves to me that she’s either too intelligent to engage in gossip, or so stupid that she thinks I won’t find out sooner or later.

“Hey, man.” Frankie fidgets, handing me a beer. “What’s with you?”

“Hey, Luther.” I then turn to my brother. “What’s with me?”

“You seem a little pale. You alright?”

“Long day. Flint dropped me earlier.”

“Shit, you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t worry about it. Ain’t my first rodeo.”

Tilting his head, he chuckles before lifting the bottle up to his lips.

“Luther, how’s Whitney?”

“She’s alright.” He shrugs, his expression changing. “Talks too much of marriage and babies these days.”

“And, what are you waitin’ for?”

“Do I wanna do it so young?” He narrows his eyes before Frankie slaps him across the arm.

We all laugh, me straining a little.

“Listen, okay, okay.” Luther raises both hands in the air, explaining. “Sometimes, you know it’s love, and you jump into it, but then, everybody grows up, right? Sarah’s twenty-three, I mean—” He pauses. “How do I know she won’t wanna move to the city in a few years or somethin’? There’s so much I ain’t seen myself.”

“You can’t keep draggin’ her along, though,” Frankie objects. “Sure, she’s twenty-three, but you’ve been goin’ out since she was eighteen, Lou!”

“You don’t think I wanna settle?” He wrinkles his nose. “’Course I do. But I wanna be sure.”

“Listen.” My patience runs thinner by the second, and I lean forward and cross my arms on the table, looking dead into