Chapter 11 #4
“So tomorrow we’ll head out to the ranch and have a look at the horse I’m considering. Then if we want her, we’ll load her up and drive back.”
“That’s great. Yeah.” The words were inane. Filler words. She didn’t know what else to say. Her chest felt tight.
“I wanted to take you away from town, actually. For some other reasons.” He looked down at his hands for a moment, then back at her.
Her heart slammed against her breastbone.
Was it happening?
It was happening.
Why didn’t she feel good? Why didn’t she feel full of … triumph and joy?
“I talked to Flynn about it,” he said, clearing his throat. “I don’t know if he said anything to you.”
She blinked. “N-no.”
“Maybe he said something to Austin, then.”
“He definitely didn’t say anything to Austin.”
“I like you, Cassidy,” he said. “And you’re right. Your brothers are all pairing off, and it’s you and me, right? You and me, kind of not paired off. There’s something that feels wrong about that.”
Well, as declarations went, it wasn’t exactly passionate.
“I agree.”
“I’d like to see if this could be something.”
That was also not definitive or passionate.
It certainly wasn’t an offer like the one West had made. Which was definitely passionate. But not in the way she wanted, and not from the man she wanted.
What? That couldn’t be true. She wanted Dalton. One kiss couldn’t erase years of longing. It couldn’t.
It was just that it had only happened recently, and it was confusing things.
“No pressure. No pressure at all. This is not something I ever thought about until recently.”
Why? And why was he thinking about it now?
Just because her brothers were pairing up?
But she didn’t want to ask that. Because she didn’t want to say anything wrong.
Didn’t want to risk spoiling whatever was happening here.
She had fantasized about Dalton wanting her for so long.
But it had never been like this. It had never been a conversation in a crowded restaurant, about seeing where things went.
It had always been a certain declaration of love. A proposal. A kiss.
Maybe that’s why she felt so disoriented. So detached and analytical. Because she was thinking about her childish fantasies. Things that, she realized now, were completely out to lunch. That just wasn’t the way people did things. It wasn’t reasonable.
This was real. This was Dalton taking a step, and trying not to create an explosion. West didn’t care about the explosion.
He wasn’t trying to preserve anything with her, so his words were reckless.
Dalton was being careful. He was being a gentleman.
“I’d like that,” she said. “I think … it makes sense.”
“Yes,” he said, looking relieved. “It makes sense.”
“So. Tell me about the horse you’re buying. Or maybe buying.”
“Yeah,” he said.
It was weird, but they moved on. They chatted about the horse and nothing else. All through dinner, all through three refills of Coke and way too much Pad Thai.
Then they went back to the truck, and he handed her a container with mints in it. She ate one, so did he.
When they got back to the hotel, her heart started to pound in her ears.
What if he wanted … What if …
She felt as if her feet were lead as they walked through the lobby and down the hall toward their rooms. They stopped right outside their doors.
He nodded, as though he was making a decision, then leaned forward, put his hand on her face and quickly, so quickly she didn’t even have time to anticipate it, leaned in and kissed her on the mouth.
It wasn’t wild. It didn’t set her on fire or make her feel like she was dying. There was no tongue. It was respectful, nice. Pleasant. Her stomach had butterflies in it, and she kind of wanted to lean in and taste his mouth again. Deeper this time. See how his kiss was different from West’s.
West.
West had been her first kiss. West had kissed her up against the wall, taken her to heaven with his mouth, his hard body.
Dalton was treating her exactly the way you would expect a man to treat a first date he didn’t know very well, or his best friend’s little sister. It was a nice kiss.
“Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Yes. Tomorrow.”
She went into her room and sat on the edge of the bed.
She thought about calling Perry. Maybe Perry would know what to tell her.
Perry was nothing if not honest. Perry had also kissed West. And had married Carson, who was her best friend.
So maybe she knew exactly what it was like to have to choose between danger and safety.
Surely with Carson she had chosen safety.
That characterization of Perry and Carson’s relationship didn’t sit very comfortably with her.
Kissing West was like being set on fire.
She wasn’t sure she was aiming for self-immolation.
Then she almost texted West.
She didn’t do that either. Instead, she lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling, and asked herself how she had gone from knowing exactly what she wanted for Christmas, to not having a fucking clue about what she wanted.
What she had wished for was right here in front of her, ready for her to reach out and take it. Yet she had never, ever felt more confused.