Page 25 of Broncos and Ballads (Healing Springs Ranch #2)

He didn’t wait for her answer. Instead he leaned his head in closer until his forehead came to rest against hers. His nose almost brushed hers, and his lips were within kissing distance. Not that she planned on kissing him. No sir. They were just teasing each other. That’s all.

Even so, it was an intoxicating kind of teasing that made her almost giddy.

She wouldn’t be being honest with herself if she didn’t admit that she loved the feel of his hands against her back, the way his fingers spread out as though he were claiming her.

And she loved the pressure of his chest against hers, the solid length and hard muscles that met all her womanly softness.

She waited for him to tease her again. But he’d closed his eyes, seeming to relish holding her as much as she liked holding him.

Their fake relationship would be so much easier if they weren’t attracted to each other. But it was obvious that the more they were together, the more the attraction was growing. Especially in this moment.

As he skimmed one of his hands up her back and toward her neck, he left a trail of flames in his wake. When he reached her neck, his fingers slid gently into her loose hair. His touch was tentative, almost reverent.

It was her turn to close her eyes as pleasure cascaded through her.

How was it possible that just his fingers in her hair could affect her this much?

How could his merest touch leave such an imprint?

Because that’s how it had been all along with him—even the smallest measures made her feel things she’d never experienced before.

She wanted to excuse away the feelings, pretend they weren’t real, blame them on the forced proximity of their situation. But deep inside, she knew the feelings were more than that. Something was there between them, something alive, something that could consume her if she weren’t careful.

His breath bathed her lips, tempting her to initiate something with him, to mesh her mouth with his as she had the past couple of kisses. But there was no reason to do so. No one to perform for. No spectators. No audience.

This time, the only excuse was pure desire.

“Knock, knock.” A woman’s voice came from the back entryway.

Brock startled.

Venus didn’t loosen her grip of either her arms or legs.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” came the woman’s voice with a hint of a laugh. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

Venus didn’t bother to look at the newcomer. She wanted to keep going with Brock, to see where they were headed, to wait for him to kiss her.

“I’m Tia from Rolling Stone .” The woman laughed again. “Do you want me to wait outside?”

“Yes.” Venus didn’t care if she sounded rude. She’d learned over the years that the only way to keep her sanity was by setting firm boundaries, and she didn’t care if this reporter or photographer or whoever had to wait a few minutes longer.

Brock’s eyes remained on Venus, but an easy grin slid into place. “No, course not. Come on in.” He cocked a brow at Venus. No doubt he was asking if she really wanted the reporter to go away so they could finish whatever this was they’d started.

She really did. But Brock hadn’t initiated any of this contact. And he also hadn’t kissed her, even though he’d had every opportunity to do so. Was he holding back? Was that why he hadn’t texted her all last week?

Before she threw herself on him again, and thoroughly humiliated herself in the process, maybe it was best if she found out what he was thinking about everything. Not that it mattered. Their fake relationship couldn’t ever become real, could it?

“I see the reports weren’t exaggerating,” the woman was saying as she made her way farther into the kitchen. “There is something going on between the two of you.”

Something going on was right. Venus unlocked her legs and arms from around Brock and sat up on the counter at the same time that he took a step back.

Tia seemed to pounce upon them the moment they separated.

At the very least, the short woman was right there in the middle, her eyes abnormally round behind extra-large and extra-nerdy glasses as if she could see every detail and never missed anything.

Venus hoped she was wrong and that the woman wasn’t as keen as that.

Tia turned her attention on Brock, her eyes full of stars. Thin and pretty, with her straight black hair cropped at her shoulders, the reporter wore an oversized T-shirt with an enormous daisy filling it, ripped-up jeans, and bright yellow Converse platform sneakers.

“Ethan and I are so excited to be with you guys.” Tia waved at a man lingering in the back hallway—the photographer, with a large camera hanging from his neck. “I’m hoping I can uncover all of your secrets today.”

All of their secrets? That didn’t sound good. Maybe meeting with the Rolling Stone was a bad idea after all. The interview was supposed to be another boost to both of their careers. But if Tia was smart enough, would she see through their relationship to the charade it really was?

Venus swallowed the sudden protest that rose inside her. It was too late to cancel now. The best thing to do was to keep moving forward. She cared about Brock. She liked being with him. And they did have a relationship of sorts. She wouldn’t have to pretend to enjoy the day with him.

At least that much was true.