Page 36 of Country Music Cowboy

He nodded, running his hands over the mother-of-pearl. “The hummingbird is my spirit animal.”

She laughed so hard she spilled coffee onto the pair of pajamas she’d borrowed from Emmy Lou.

“Sorry,” he said. “I thought you were immune to my humor.”

“I am.” But she was still smiling. “You caught me un-caffeinated.”

“Sure.” He shook his head. “No burns?”

She shook her head. “Nope.”

He nodded, the guitar resting across his thighs, torn between diving in or waiting for her to ask about—

“I’m guessing there’s a reason you brought your guitar to breakfast?” Her gaze shifted from the guitar to his face.

“I was up all night. Wrote something.” He swallowed.

Loretta sat her mug down. “You did?” She leaned forward, suddenly alert. “I’m hoping this means you’ll play it?”

“Nah.” He teased. “I just wanted to show off my Hummingbird.”

She shook her head, but she was smiling. And damn, her smile was so damn bright and beautiful he wasn’t sure he’d need his coffee after all. “Well, if you change your mind, I’d like to hear—”

“If you insist.” He shifted the guitar, ran his fingers along the strings, and started playing.

When her foot started tapping on the step, he began to relax. Her eyes drifted shut and she was swaying along, concentrating on the notes and melody.

Now came the risky part. The lyrics. He cleared his throat and started to sing.

You’ve got me where you want me.

I can’t say that I mind.

You tease me but you touch me.

One kiss, we’re intertwined.

It’s taken you forever to see me standing here.

But now that you do, darlin’, let me make this clear.

If tonight is all we have, then, girl, tonight you’re mine.

I’ll love you so good, you’ll try to slow down time.

But you’ll miss me, baby, and I’ll haunt you in your sleep.

My hands, my mouth, on you—you’ll want me close and deep.

His fingers played the final notes and silence fell. A long, awkward silence. He didn’t want to look at her, too afraid of what he might see.

“What about the woman’s part?” she asked, her voice rough as gravel.

“I thought, maybe, you’d have some ideas?” He leaned back against the railing. “You being a woman and all.” He was looking at her now.

She was staring at the guitar, her breathing unsteady and her cheeks flushed. “This would be a duet for us?” She swallowed, hard, before meeting his gaze.

“That’s how I’d envisioned it.” That wasn’t all he’d envisioned. Maybe his subconscious was trying to tell him something. Rather, hit him over the head with something.