“Of course.” She swallowed. He took another step. “Anything else?”
“Well, I’d probably try to show you the town, maybe take a long drive west for a weekend, maybe cook you dinner one of these nights.”
Her hands automatically felt for the stable wall behind her, but not because she was feeling the need to escape. She was feeling the need to touch something solid that would help her wobbly knees stay standing.
He stepped closer, raised a hand to trace her jaw. Carefully, like he was afraid she might break. He was so damn close, so warm, so strong, so…gentle.
“What else?” She heard the whispered words escape on their own, like she hadn’t even formed them herself.
“Maybe this,” he whispered back, then touched his lips to hers. It was a fleeting, feathery kiss—soft, sweet, and gentle—and then it was over. He pulled back, keeping his fingers under her chin for a millisecond longer, then sliding them away as well.
She opened her eyes. “You”—she cleared her throat nervously—“you play dirty, cowboy.”
He closed his eyes in mock pain, then smiled and shook his head. “I can.”
“I’m not sure it’s fair to throw kissing into the equation here.”
“Well, I had to think of something.” He shrugged, dimple showing as he grinned. “I kiss better than I dance.”
Jess touched her lips. “And you dance pretty well, actually.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Good to know.” He took a deep breath, backing away slowly. “So in addition to my assignment, I also have a dilemma.”
“What kind of dilemma?”
“The still-no-date-to-the-wedding dilemma. This pains me, because I’m actually a really good wedding date.”
“Everyone said no? I told you they needed more notice.”
“You were right. So I need to find a gal who already has a suitable dress. And, apparently, shoes. Who knew shoes were a thing?”
“I told you they were a thing.”
“I know. That’s how I found out.”
Jess rolled her eyes. “Sounds like you’re a little stuck, cowboy.”
“Any chance you’d rethink coming as my date?” He put up a finger to prevent her arguing. “I know you don’t need a date. I know you’re perfectly capable of surviving a wedding on your own. Even a Whisper Creek one.”
He smiled. “If it helps, you can think of it as another rescue mission. If I come to the reception with you on my arm, I’ll avoid everyone in town knowing I was turned down left and right.”
“Gosh, as romantic as that proposition sounds—”
“I wasn’t trying to sound romantic. That wasn’t my romantic—”
Jess laughed. “I don’t know, Cole. Maybe the ladies of Carefree are trying to take you down a peg. I wouldn’t want to get on their bad side. How many women did you ask, anyway?”
“Ten.” He rattled off the number, smiling.
She felt her smile fall before she could catch it. “Ten? Seriously?”
“It’s kind of a record refusal, even for me.”
“And they all said no?”
Were they crazy? Turn down a wedding date with Cole Driscoll, the single most gorgeous man in Carefree?
“I know. It’s hard to believe, isn’t it? Given my charm and wit and—what was the other thing you said—my smashing good looks?”
“Your modesty, actually.”
He nodded. “Right. That was the third thing.”
He looked at her for a long moment, seeming to examine her through her skin, but for some reason, instead of feeling uncomfortable and invasive, it felt—hot. “I didn’t really ask ten women to the wedding, Jess.”
“Oh.” Oh.
“It was only nine. But they still all said no.”
Jess shook her head, laughing. “You’re impossible.”
“I hear that a lot.” He stepped toward her again, making her draw in a quick breath. And then, before she could move, he cupped her face in both of his hands, stroking his thumbs along her jaw. “Come with me, Jess. Please?”
“Ha.” Her voice shook. “I’m apparently your tenth choice. And is this how you asked the rest of them?”
He looked at her for a long moment, his face serious now. “I didn’t really ask anyone else. You know that.” His words were a whisper as his lips touched hers again, but this time, he didn’t pull away. His hands slid into her hair as he kissed her, and she felt her lips part under the sure, gentle pressure of his.
Her heartbeat pounded in her ears as she registered every touch of his fingertips, every millimeter of his lips, every breath he stole.
And then he pulled away. Again. He touched his forehead to hers, and with her hand pressed against his chest, she was gratified to feel his heartbeat matched her own.