Page 97 of The Wildest Ride

“How many buckles have you won?”

He made a purring sound in the back of his throat that rumbled through his body and into hers. “Mmmm. I see you want to discuss my prowess. I could just show you...”

“Nothing but a hound dog.”

“Nah, darlin’. That’s Elvis and he’s from Mississippi. I’m Texas all the way through.”

Lil gave a dramatic sigh. “Something you won’t let any of us forget, just like everything else from Texas.”

He shrugged. “You know what they say about Texas...”

Lil rolled her eyes. “Shameless.”

“But now you know it’s true.” He grinned, something silly and boyish in his smile, even while his eyes twinkled with what she knew were naughty ideas.

Her heart hitched again. More to herself than him, she said softly, “Now I know.”

His gaze turned searching and he snagged her chin to draw her face closer to his own. After looking into her eyes for a moment he gave her a soft kiss on the lips and pulled back. “I’m glad the cows stampeded.”

She laughed, unable to stop. She laughed so long that tears came out of her eyes and she had to catch her breath.

A cautionary wind chose that moment to blow cold through her heart. She had to be careful not to get too used to any of this. He was married to the rodeo and she had a ranch to get back to—theirs was a temporary romance, and also likely the only one she’d ever have.

Holding back the small sigh that wanted to escape, she smiled instead. “Me, too,” she said, and because she couldn’t help it—and because saying it in Spanish made it feel somehow less painfully true and earnest—she repeated herself, “Yo también.”

He pulled her into a hug and she let the sigh out as an exhale in his arms. She’d never experienced sadness and joy at the same time like this before.

Thankfully, he saved her from having to sit with the feeling with his question, “Where’d you learn to speak Spanish?”

This time, her smile was easy. This was safe territory.

“Ranching. High school. Spain.”

He laughed, “One of those things is not like the others...”

She snorted. “I learned my first words and phrases working the ranch after school and in the summers—a bunch of the other workers and their kids spoke Spanish. Because I already had some conversation skills, it made sense to take it as my language requirement for high school.” She paused and grinned. “Spain is where I got really good, though.”

He raised an eyebrow. “At what exactly?”

Her eyes flicked to the side and she shrugged one shoulder. “Spanish...mostly.”

“Explains the classy accent.”

“You think my accent’s classy?” she teased.

He shook his head. “No. I think it’s sexy.”

Warmth blossomed in the center of her chest. Her language skills were just like everything else about her: practical. That they could be a turn-on was something new.

He watched her face, waiting for her response, and she was filled with a powerful urge to tilt her chin, lean up, and press her lips to his.

So she did.

She couldn’t tell him any of the things he was stirring up inside—that was too personal. Not when she knew he’d only end up leaving. But she could kiss him.

He responded by maneuvering their bodies so that she rested on his chest on top of the sofa bench.

“The bed would be more comfortable,” he said.