6. Kaycee
KAYCEE
Apparently going on a date with Travis Cole meant having an audience. I figured that out less than a minute after walking into the rodeo dance and spotting him across the pavilion.
The committee had strung lights between the rafters and pushed folding tables to the edges, leaving the center open for dancing. After three days of dirt and stock trailers and an announcer who never stopped shouting, the place looked almost civilized.
Travis stood near the bar talking to Jace and Dallas.
I'd been sitting across his kitchen table from him a couple of hours ago.
That hadn't prepared me for Travis Cole cleaned up for a date.
He'd changed since I'd left his ranch, trading his work clothes for dark jeans and a pale blue button-down with the sleeves rolled to his forearms. His hair was still slightly damp from a shower, and he'd shaved sometime in the short stretch between asking me to the dance and showing up here.
His gaze skimmed over the crowd and landed on me. He said something to Jace, then headed over, getting stopped twice before he made it halfway. By the time he reached me, I'd already noticed several people watching.
“You came.”
“You asked.”
“Yeah, I did.” His gaze moved over me, slow enough to make me suddenly aware of every choice I’d made getting dressed. “You look good.”
“Thank you.” I looked him over in return. “You clean up pretty well yourself.”
His mouth tipped up at one corner.
Before he could reply, Ruby appeared at my side with a plastic cup of lemonade in hand. Her gaze moved from me to Travis, then down to where his hand had landed at the small of my back.
“Having a nice evening, Kaycee?” The question was innocent, but her expression wasn't.
“So far.”
“Mmm-hmm.” She took a sip. “Good.”
Travis sighed. “Ruby.”
“What? I didn't say anything.” She smiled at me. “Enjoy the dance.”
I watched her walk away. “She knows.”
“Ruby knows things before they happen.”
“That sounds exhausting.”
“You get used to it.”
The band started another song, and Travis held out his hand. “Dance with me.”
“A man who wrestles steers and knows how to dance? You’re quite the mystery, Cole.” I put my hand in his.
He laughed and led me onto the floor.
I knew enough to be able to follow his lead without embarrassing either of us, which Travis clearly hadn't expected. His eyebrows climbed after the first turn.
“You know how to dance.”
“You really think Bozeman doesn't have country music?”
“I was prepared to teach you.”
“I’m sure you'll find another way to be useful.”
His hand pressed firmer at my waist. The pavilion was crowded enough that we had to stay close, and after earlier at his kitchen counter, I was way too aware of every shift of his palm against my side.
Halfway through the song, I caught him watching me again. “What?”
“Thinking about earlier.”
So was I. Why did one afternoon at his kitchen table have more pull on my brain than most of the men I'd dated in years?
When the song ended, I tipped my head toward the open side of the pavilion. “Can “we talk a walk?”
He twined his finger with mine and led me away from the crowd. The music softened behind us. The rodeo grounds were mostly dark beyond the security lights near the stock pens, and the night air felt cool after the packed dance floor.
I stopped next to the fence. “Why did you stop earlier?”
Travis knew exactly what I meant. “I told you.”
“You told me you didn't want me leaving afterward. That's not quite the same answer.”
He looked toward the arena for a second before meeting my eyes again. “I know how to do casual, Kaycee.”
“I know.”
“I don't want that with you.”
The words were simple enough that there was nowhere to hide inside them. I'd spent years making sure my life stayed flexible. Projects ended, I handed over the report and went home. Nothing got complicated unless I allowed it to.
For once, I didn’t need time to think it through. “Good.”
His brows lifted. “Good?”
“I don't want casual either.”
Travis watched me for a long second, then stepped closer. “Come home with me.”
I didn’t hesitate. “Okay.”
We were almost to his truck when he slowed and glanced toward the row of parked cars. “Your car's going to be here all night.”
“So?”
“People will talk.”
I understood what he was really asking, and it had nothing to do with parking. “Let them.” I held his gaze. “I'm not ashamed of going home with you.”
His jaw tightened. Then his hand came up behind my neck, and he kissed me, hard and quick, before opening the passenger door of his truck.
The drive to his ranch was quiet. Once we left town, his headlights picked out fence posts and pale stretches of grass along the shoulder. Travis drove with one hand on the wheel and the other near the center console, so I put mine over it.
He glanced down, then turned his palm under mine and twined our fingers.
When we got to the ranch, we barely made it through the back door.
Travis turned as soon as it closed, and I reached for him at the same time. His hat landed on the kitchen table as his mouth found mine, and I slid both hands under his shirt.
His skin was warm underneath my palms. The kiss we'd shared earlier had left me wondering exactly what would've happened if he hadn't stopped. Now I didn't have to wonder.
I pushed his shirt from his shoulders. Travis tossed it next to his hat, then caught the hem of my shirt and paused.
“Okay?”
I raised my arms. “You ask me that one more time and I'm going to assume you're stalling.”
His mouth curved as he pulled it over my head. “Not stalling.”
“Good.”
My shirt landed on the floor, and the humor faded from his eyes as he looked at me. His gaze moved slowly, and the attention made me stand straighter instead of wanting to cover myself.
“You're staring.”
“Yeah.”
“Anything useful to contribute?”
His hand curved at my waist. “I’m working on it.”
I laughed, and he kissed me again. Bare skin met bare skin when he pulled me closer. I ran my hands over his chest and found a pale scar near his shoulder.
“Steer wrestling?”
He shook his head. “Run in with a fence.”
Another thin mark crossed his ribs.
“Bar fight?”
“Nah. Just a pissed off horse.”
I looked up. “Your life is ridiculous.”
“I’ve been told that before.”
He didn't wait for me to ask about the next one. His mouth moved down my neck instead, his jaw rough against my skin, and I slid my fingers into his hair when he found a place behind my ear that made my breath catch.
He noticed.
Travis seemed to notice every change in my breathing and every time I moved closer. His confidence came through in every touch, but he never acted like knowing women meant he automatically knew me. That difference mattered.
I tugged at his belt. “Take me upstairs.”
One eyebrow went up. “You’re awfully bossy.”
“You must be rubbing off on me.”
We made it upstairs without much more conversation. By the time we reached his bedroom, my hair had mostly escaped its ponytail and his belt was open. Travis stopped next to the bed and touched my cheek.
“You sure you’re good?” He was serious, and I appreciated him wanting to make sure.
“Yes.” I put my hand over his and held it there. “I'm not going anywhere.”
Something in his shoulders eased.
I unclasped my bra and let it slide down my arms. Travis went quiet enough that I smiled. “That shut you up.”
“Give me a minute.” Then he kissed me before I could laugh.
His hands moved over bare skin, slower than I'd expected after the way he'd kissed me downstairs. I let him take his time until I couldn’t stand it, then pushed at his jeans.
“My turn.” I finished undressing him, taking enough time to enjoy the way some of his easy confidence disappeared under my hands. By the time the backs of my knees met the mattress, neither of us was doing much teasing.
Travis followed me down and braced himself above me. His hand moved along my side as I hooked one leg around him and pulled him closer.
“You're making it hard to take my time.”
“Maybe I don't want you to.”
His eyes met mine.
I touched his jaw. “I'm not fragile, Travis.”
“I know.”
“Good.”
“But I'm still not rushing this.” He kissed his way down my neck, and I stopped caring about anything except how his lips felt on my skin.
As he kissed lower and lower, I told him what I liked when he asked, and when he didn't, I showed him. He paid attention to all of it.
“Travis, get back up here.” I couldn’t stand him teasing me anymore. Reaching under his arms, I tried pulling him back up. His breathing was almost as uneven as mine. I kissed him and felt the faint edge of a smile. “What?”
“I didn’t know how much I’d like hearing you say my name.”
I touched the side of his face. “Travis.”
His eyes closed for a second. That small reaction made my heart squeeze tight. Either he was a damn good actor, or he really had changed from the person he’d been in the past. I’d always trusted my gut, and my gut said he was a good man.
He reached into the bedside table for a condom and looked at me before opening it. I nodded, and a moment later he came back over me, one hand braced next to my shoulder while the other rested at my hip.
His mouth found mine as he shifted between my thighs. I tightened my arms around him when he eased inside me. The first stretch pulled a sharp breath from my lungs, and Travis stopped immediately.
“Still with me?”
“Yes.” I drew him closer with my legs. “Don't stop.”
He held my gaze as he moved the rest of the way, slow enough that I felt the last of the space disappear between us. Then he stayed still, the muscles in his shoulders tight under my hands while he waited for me.
I kissed him. “Move.”
He did. The first few strokes were slow and controlled. I met him each time, learning his rhythm while he learned mine, and when slow stopped being what I wanted, I let him know.
“Give me more, Cole.”
His jaw tightened. The next thrust was harder, making me gasp, and he watched my face before doing it again.
“Yes.”
That was enough. The pace between us changed. I wrapped my legs tighter around him and met every thrust, telling him what I wanted and pulling him closer when he got it right.
Then his hand found mine against the mattress, and he threaded our fingers together.
I'd expected sex with Travis to be good. What I hadn't expected was the attention—the way he watched me, listened to me, and held my hand as though that contact mattered just as much as everything else. And there was nothing casual about any of it.
The pressure built until I couldn't hold back. His name came out on a broken breath, and his fingers tightened around mine as I came undone.
Travis stayed with me, slowing just enough before the last of his control broke. His forehead dropped to touch mine, my name rough against my neck as he followed me over the edge.
For several seconds afterward, neither of us moved. Then he kissed my temple, such a quiet contrast to everything we'd just done that I felt it deep within my chest. I might be in over my head, but I didn’t regret a second.
Travis rolled onto his side and pulled me with him. His hair was a mess, and a red mark showed on one shoulder that I was pretty sure I'd put there.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Very.”
His mouth ticked up. “Good.”
I kissed him again, slower now that neither of us was in a hurry.
A little while later, Travis got up and came back carrying two bottles of water. I had pulled the sheet over myself and was still exactly where he'd left me. He stopped next to the bed.
“What?”
One side of his mouth kicked up. “You're still here.”
“You look surprised.”
“A little.”
I took the water from him. “I told you I wasn't planning to leave.”
“Yeah.” His expression softened. “You did.”
He climbed back into bed and pulled me against his chest. Outside the window, the ranch was quiet except for the occasional low sound of the cattle somewhere beyond the house.
My car was sitting in plain view at the rodeo grounds, right where anyone driving past could see it. By morning, half of Mustang Mountain would probably know exactly where I'd gone. I couldn't make myself care.
For someone who'd built a career on knowing when it was time to leave, I had nowhere else I wanted to be.