Page 44 of Jensen

We don’t know a lot about each other, but I have a feeling that will come.

Forgetting about the drinks, I slip my hand around her waist and steer her backwards to the dance floor. There are a few other couples, bodies close as they sway to the soft music. I want to be like them, normal and falling for somebody I could build a future with. I pull her near,and she goes, hesitant at first. Then, she melts and puts her head on my chest.

I feel it again.

Something new.

This time,when I think about the first time I fell for someone, it hurts less. With her body in my arms,perhapsI could move forward instead of just living in hiding. Maybe everything is alright. Maybe this is my break.

“You alright?” she whispers.

“I’m better than alright,” I say.

We don’t speak for a while. We just exist in a comfortable, golden haze.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

DELLA

He wasn’t supposed to feel like being home, but here I am, in his arms, feeling like I’m back in my little holler and everything is right with the world. It’s breaking my damn heart.

His hand slides down to the small of my back. Leland used to hold me there, controlling me when we’d leave the house.

It doesn’t feel like that with Jensen. No, his hands feel like if I woke up from a bad dream, his touch might send me back to sleep, all firm, strong, and steady. I turn my head, the band blurry in my vision. His chin shifts, his mustache tickling my temple.

“You all good, baby?” he murmurs.

I swallow the lump in my throat. “Yeah, I’m just perfect.”

He’s breaking my already-cracked heart. If we dance any longer, I’m going to spill everything out here right now. Reluctantly, I pull back, and he releases me.

“I’m getting tired,” I say.

“You were up all night.” He takes my hand, pulling me against his side. “Let’s get back, fuck a little, and get some sleep.”

I nod, and the lump of guilt stays in my throat all the way back to the truck. The moon is out, reflecting off the mountain peaks in the distance. It blows my mind how vast Montana looks in comparisonto the close set hills of Kentucky. At home, I’m used to being tucked away, but out here, I can see for miles when we get on the highway.

“You like living out west?” I ask.

He puts his hand on my thigh, shifting up my short skirt. His middle finger touches right below my panties, circling like he did that first night in the stockyards.

“Yeah, I do,” he says. “It’s different than what I knew, but I like it pretty good.”

“Where you from? You’ve never told me.”

He glances sideways at me. That’s a look I’m getting used to, and it reminds me he’s a fair bit older than I am. It’s a stern little glance, like I’m stepping on his boundaries, and he doesn’t appreciate it much.

“Here, there,” he says.

“Everywhere?”

He squeezes my thigh. “Something like that.”

We don’t talk again until he pulls up outside his ranch house. I sit tight, knowing he’s circling the truck. And he does, lifting me out and kissing me briefly as he sets me down. Everything tingles. Then, he takes his hat off and puts it on my head, spinning me around and slapping my ass.

“Get yourself inside,” he says.

I flash him a smile, scrambling up the steps. He unlocks the door, and we’re tumbling into the hallway. My body is ready, the guilt forgotten once again. He’s got me pushed up against the wall in a second, hands all up and down my hips, shoving up my skirt, dropping to his knees.