Page 35 of Seven Brides for Beau McBride (The McBrides of Montana #3)

His attention was heady. Ellie liked it entirely too much.

As she told him about the tenement and her mother’s curse of too many children to feed, he listened intently.

Sometimes, he stared into the fire, as though seeing the pictures she painted, and sometimes he gave her a look of such compassion that her stomach twisted.

When he began to tell her about the hard winter in Buck’s Creek, she tried to be just as attentive in return, but sometimes when he was talking she tended to get a little distracted by watching him.

She heard the sound of his husky, warm voice but didn’t really register his words.

The firelight edged him in shadow, cutting angles into his face.

He looked more than ever like a Bourbon prince.

Ellie kept picking at the peanuts and eventually she accepted another shot of whiskey.

She curled up on the end of the bed—sofa—like a cat.

“So did you kiss Diana?” she asked eventually. She’d been dying to ask him all night. He’d held Diana’s hand and asked her questions, but had he gone further?

“No,” he said in disgust. “I was planning to, but then someone went and got herself chased up a tree by a bear and needed to be rescued.”

“You didn’t know that at the time,” she protested.

He gave her a wry grin. “There were too many people at the hotel to go kissing her.”

She gaped at him. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”

“All Junebug’s girls were there.”

“You could have got her off alone if you’d wanted to.”

“Hardly.”

“Completely! If you really want to kiss a girl, you’ve got to make an effort.” She shook her head at him.

“Oh, I like this. You’re going to lecture me on kissing? How many times have you been kissed?”

“I’ve been kissed! Once. By Myron Bales, who worked as a doffer in my spinning room. He stuck his tongue in my mouth. It was quite revolting actually.”

Beau almost spat out his mouthful of whiskey at that. “If you found it revolting, he wasn’t doing it right.”

“That’s not how you kiss,” she protested. “Kissing isn’t about tongues, it’s about lips.”

He was giving her the oddest look.

“Trust me,” she said, waving her empty shot glass. “I’ve read enough kissing books to know.”

“Maybe not the right kind of kissing books.”

She scoffed. “I’ll show you, if you don’t believe me.”

“No, it’s fine, I believe you.” He inched away from her.

“No. You need to know. You can’t be revolting Diana with your tongue!”

He snorted. “Trust me, I won’t be revolting her.”

“Look. Close your eyes.” She put the shot glass down.

“No.”

“Don’t be like that,” she coaxed. “It won’t be revolting.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about.”

She shuffled to the middle of the bed, rising onto her knees. “I promise you’ll like it.”

“Again, not what I’m worried about.”

She took his stubbly cheeks between her palms, pushing his face so his lips looked like fish lips. She giggled.

“Remind me never to give you whiskey again,” he managed to say through his fish lips.

“It’s not the whiskey, it’s my helpful nature. I want you to get it right.”

He laughed and pushed her hands away from his face. “Honey. I don’t need help on that front. Especially not from you.”

Ellie felt like she’d been slapped. She went hot and cold. Oh.

She turned and stared at the fire, feeling like her stomach was full of acid. Especially not from you. She was making a fool of herself. Of course he didn’t want her kissing him. Oh God. She had had too much whiskey.

“What?” Beau sounded nervous. “What did I say?”

“Nothing.” Ellie pulled the rug back around herself and pulled it up over her head.

“Clearly not nothing. ”

She stayed silent. She was worried she was going to cry. Her eyes were hot and prickly.

“Ellie,” he growled. “What did I say?”

“Nothing!” She rubbed at her eyes under the blanket. “Forget it. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to harass you.” Her throat was all achy and she knew her voice sounded weird.

“Will you come out of there?” He pulled at the blanket.

She pulled back.

“Hey.” He kept tugging.

“I get that I’m unkissable. I don’t need you to tell me that.”

The tugging stopped. There was a long silence. Ellie was going to cry. It was just the stress, and the drink, and the bear and all the rest of it, she told herself. She wasn’t crying over him. Why would she? He wasn’t even hers to cry over. She was just trying to help.

“Listen, you madwoman,” he said, firmly yanking the blanket down from her head. “You’re not unkissable. You are, if anything, too kissable.” He sounded completely exasperated.

She scoffed. “Don’t. I know exactly what I am.” She was aware her hair was escaping from her braids as it dried, she was aware she was skinny, she was aware she didn’t have plump lips or symmetrical attractions.

“You are goddamn distracting is what you are,” he sighed.

He rolled the blanket down, like he was unpeeling her.

“You’ve got a way of talking me upside down and backwards.

” Now he took her face in his hands. “You ain’t unkissable.

You are entirely kissable. And if I weren’t marrying Diana, I’d kiss you right this second. ”

For the first time in her life, Ellie was wordless. He wasn’t lying. She could see it in his eyes. They were shining with all kinds of things that pulled at her like a tide.

“Since you’re being helpful, though,” he said, that familiar dark twinkle emerging, “I will take your kissing tutorial. I was only being cautious because of Diana.”

“I want you to marry Diana,” Ellie said in a small voice.

“I know.” He gave her a rueful look. “But I’m a man, Ellie. Not a saint. You’re a woman and you’re not unkissable. I just thought it might be dangerous.”

She nodded, dashing the tears away.

“But if we agree it doesn’t mean anything…”

It didn’t mean anything. It couldn’t.

“Then… You can show me how to do it. Your way. Like they do in the books,” he said kindly. He closed his eyes and leaned in.

Ellie was all messed up. She felt sober-ish, but not straight in the head. He found her kissable. Too kissable.

It didn’t mean anything.

But he was waiting for her to kiss him.

Ellie started trembling. Oh, this was dangerous.

She shouldn’t do this. But then, it didn’t mean anything. It didn’t. She was just a friend helping a friend.

“Am I unkissable now?” he asked, opening his eyes, and there was a mix of teasing and disappointment in his tone.

“I just… the mood went.”

“What if you paint the scene for me first, and get us both in character, like you did with the hand holding?”

“Stop making fun.”

“I’m not. You got me all worked up that time with your hand holding, your picture was so vivid.”

Ellie bit her lip. She knew that was true. She’d been there.

“So go on, tell me how I went wrong. How would I get her alone and kiss her in a hotel full of people? Where are we, when she kisses me? I mean, I kiss her?”

Ellie tried to imagine the ramshackle, drafty saloon away, but she couldn’t. She felt entirely, concretely present, on this narrow iron bed in this smoke and whiskey scented cabin. She was painfully aware of her body under the loose flannels, and his body, just inches away.

“Close your eyes,” she begged.

He did.

“You’re… on the stairs of the hotel,” she invented. “Having a stolen moment.”

“Yes,” he said softly. “Go on.”

“It’s clandestine. Illicit.”

He swayed infinitesimally towards her.

“You take her face in your hands.” Softly, Ellie took his stubbly cheeks between her palms again. She wondered if he could feel how much she was trembling. His skin was warm against her palms. Scratchy, but in a pleasant way that made her stomach float and sink all at once. “And you move slowly.”

“Because of anticipation ,” he agreed.

“Hush.”

His lips twitched.

Ellie moved like she was underwater. She leaned closer, feeling the heat of his breath brush her mouth.

He smelled so good. Like thunderstorms and peanuts and whiskey.

Ellie touched his mouth with hers, in the lightest and slowest of kisses.

She stayed there, barely moving for several slow heartbeats.

His lips were soft. They quivered under hers.

Wait. Was he laughing ?

“Don’t be mad.” The bastard followed her as she stormed to the door. “And where are you going? It’s still torrential out there!”

“The thunder and lightning have stopped,” she ground out. She hopped along, pulling on her boots as she went. “I can get back to the hotel now without being killed at least.” Ellie had never been so furious, or so goddamn humiliated in her entire life. How dare he laugh at her!

“Ellie!” He blocked her way. “It’s still blowing a gale.”

“Get out of my way.” She felt like punching him. Kicking him. Screaming in his face. “You laughed at me. ”

He was chagrined. “No. Well, yes. But not at you. I just laughed.”

She drew herself up to her full height and gave him an imperious stare. “Get. Out. Of. My. Way.”

“No.”

“Fine.” She glanced around. She’d go out a window then.

“Ellie!” He grabbed her by the arms and spun her around. “Stop. Let me explain.”

“There’s nothing to explain,” she said stiffly. “I kissed you and you laughed. ”

“Well, it’s just that you…” He cleared his throat, clearly trying not to laugh again. “You just sat there.”

She tried to wrench herself away from his grip.

“Whoa,” he soothed. “You… surprised me, that’s all.” He cleared his throat. “It was nice.”

“It was nice ?” She had to get out of here or she was going to commit violence. “Kisses aren’t supposed to be nice ,” she hissed. “They’re supposed to be passionate. ”

He cleared his throat again, looking suspiciously twinkly. “And that was, uh, passionate, was it?”

Oh, he was the worst.

Ellie headed for the window.

“Stop!” He stepped in front of her again. “Stop.”

She crossed her arms and gave him the most evil stare she could muster.

“You can’t leave until I have my turn,” he said softly.

She narrowed her eyes.

“You showed me your book kissing, now it’s my turn.” He gave her a gentle look. “You can laugh at me after if it will make you feel better?”

“I’m not kissing you again.”

“No. I’ll kiss you .”

Despite herself, Ellie felt a shiver run down her spine. “What was so funny?” she asked petulantly.

“I was just surprised,” he said again. “You were so still. Like you’d drifted off mid-kiss.”

“That’s how you kiss,” she said stubbornly.

“Well, no. That’s not how I kiss.” His hands cupped her shoulders. He drew her closer and lowered his head until their noses brushed. He stared into her eyes.

“This isn’t kissing. It’s staring.”

“Hush. This time you close your eyes.”

She sighed, but she obliged. She felt so embarrassed. So, she hadn’t been kissed more than once. So, she’d learned it from books. She refused to believe she was wrong. What did he know about kissing anyway—he’d been raised in the woods.

Her eyes flew open at the first brush of his lips. He pulled her hard against his chest, and her head tilted back naturally to accommodate him. His mouth slanted across hers, firmly. His eyes were closed, his dark brows drawn together. He was intense.

Ellie got the giggles. She didn’t mean to. He just looked so serious.

Beau pulled away, half frowning, half laughing. “What are you laughing at?”

She couldn’t stop giggling enough to answer.

“Right. Now you’re really going to get it.

” He was grinning as he hauled her up hard against him, lifting her feet off the floor.

His mouth was on hers again, and she could feel him smiling against her lips.

Ellie squealed as he spun her around; she wrapped her arms around his neck.

She could feel her breasts flatten against the hard width of his chest. He backed her against the wall as the tip of his tongue flicked against her mouth.

“Ah!” She pulled away. “Not like Myron!” she giggled.

“Trust me,” he said smugly. “This won’t be anything like Myron.”

Oh, God, his mouth was so insistent on hers.

It made her toes curl inside her boots. She clung on for dear life as he moved against her, and then his tongue slid against her lips and she gasped.

As her lips parted, his tongue slid into her mouth, and it was like nothing she’d ever experienced.

It was certainly nothing like Myron. And it was far better than any of her wanton dreams.

“You can kiss me back,” he whispered against her.

Ellie didn’t need to be asked twice. She plunged her hands into his hair and tangled her tongue with his. She heard him groan and she felt a shiver in every secret part of herself. She felt herself losing grip on her ability to think. She was all sensation.

“Stop, stop.”

His words brought her back to reality. She moaned as he pulled away. “Honey, stop.” He was breathing hard.

Oh. Somehow, she’d wrapped around him, just like she’d wrapped around the tree earlier. Her legs were locked around his waist and he was cupping her buttocks with his hands.

“I’m not laughing now,” he sighed, pressing his forehead to hers. “I knew this was dangerous.”