Chapter 23 Dallas #2
I meet Willow at the fence and guide her out slowly. The moment we’re through the gate, she forces out a breath. “God, you’re stubborn.”
“I’m stubborn,” I say flatly. “You follow me into the bullpen for something that could have waited till later, but I’m stubborn.” I start toward the far end of the fence for my lasso.
She shrugs. “Not like I was in there alone. I trust you.”
I pause mid step, breath catching in my throat like she’d knocked the wind out of me. I turn back to her. “That just might be your biggest gamble yet, Sunset.”
She barely blinks. “I’ll take my chances.”
I shake my head, fighting the ache in my chest. The one begging me to do the same.
Like the kind of man she doesn’t need, I walk away. Grabbing the lasso off the hook, I swing it around my shoulder. “You’re a real handful, you know that?” A grin somehow works its way into my voice. I start the walk back to the shed uphill. “Back in a minute.”
I needed things from the equipment shed. I know I did. But for the life of me, I can’t remember what. I just know I need a minute.
I barely make it halfway before I hear her trying to keep up behind me, slightly out of breath. “I overreacted last night. I’m sorry. But you have to understand why I was so upset.”
I keep walking, jaw tight, her voice trailing behind me like a damn hook. “I get it, Willow. It’s why you broke up with your ex.”
“No. Well, yes. But I also want to be able to defend myself.”
“Which is what he said you couldn’t do, right?” I don’t stop. I don’t turn. I don’t understand what’s happening between us, but I know that the next time I look at her, I’ll be done for.
“Exactly,” she breathes. “I swear, I’m usually in control a lot more when I’m up there playing. I don’t know what got into me with that guy. But between Eric getting in my head, you intervening and me losing my job, I lost my . . .”
Behind me, her footsteps slow before stopping completely to catch her breath. “Can we . . . can we go back in the bullpen?”
That makes me stop. “Why?”
“Because . . . you can’t walk . . . away from me there.”
I turn and stare at her. Her hands are resting on her knees. She straightens slowly. “I’m sorry, Dallas.”
“Stop saying that,” I mutter.
“Why?”
“Because I don’t know what to do with that,” I snap.
She frowns. Then closes the distance. “You say you’re sorry too, you buffoon.”
“I already did.”
“Well, you say it again.” She pouts. “Then you look at me and tell me that I don’t know what it’s like to lose the love of my life. And that expecting you to be in the moment with me and not think about her was unfair.” Her voice cracks.
My stomach twists. “Willow.”
“Then maybe you call me out on being petty and blindsiding you.” She sucks in a breath.
I take a step closer. “You’re going to have to help me, Willow, I still don’t know what to do.” My voice is rough.
She blinks up at me. “You’re not . . . talking about the apology anymore are you?”
I give a slow shake of my head.
She takes a breath like something is finally settling. “I understand. You just want time.” She nods once before turning back.
“Willow, I don’t want that.”
She holds up her hands like it’s no sweat. “You’re working and I’m . . . too much.” She shakes her head at herself, like this is all too familiar, then continues downhill.
“Get back here,” I call on an exhale. Hands itching at my sides to go after her, I lower the lasso off my shoulder and narrow my eyes, assessing the distance.
She’s a little over ten paces away before my rope goes flying, snaking through the air smoothly. The loop lands softly around her.
She freezes, head dropping to her middle. She twists to face me, eyes wide, lips parting before she speaks. “Did you just . . . lasso me?”
I keep my eyes on her, tugging gently, gathering the rope as she comes closer. “How’s it any different than stepping into my bullpen?”
“Oh,” she breathes. “Well then, are you apologizing too?”
I pull her the rest of the way to me, holding the loop tight like she’s a flight risk. “No. And I really don’t believe that’s all you came to do either.”
She shakes her head with a smirk. “You really don’t know what to do when a woman apologizes, do you, Spout?”
“Don’t get me wrong. I know what I want to do.
” My eyes drop to her lips. “I know I’ve wanted it since the day I laid eyes on you.
” I release my grip and let the rope fall to the ground.
Then I take her hand and move her against all the new hay bales we got stacked outside the shed.
“But since we’re being honest, Sunset, I didn’t pull back because of Millie.
” I swallow. “Not in the way you think.”
“You don’t have to explain.”
“I pulled back because it was different.” I push her hair back. “The kind I wanted more of that night. The kind I haven’t been able to stop thinking about.”
“More of . . .” Her voice trails off, eyes hooked to my mouth.
I lift her chin. “Stay with me, we’ll get there.
” I drop my hand, careful not to touch more of her smooth face with my filth.
“More of what I felt with you in my arms. Things I never thought I’d feel again.
Hell, things I didn’t want to feel, because Millie was supposed to be .
. . it for me.” I remove my hat and set it over the hay.
Then, like it’s the most natural thing in the world, I press my forehead to hers.
She inhales, breathing me in.
“I’m going to mess this up,” I tell her. “I don’t want to hurt anybody.”
Her eyes are on mine. “You have a history of breaking hearts?”
The thought of breaking Willow’s heart guts me. But losing her might just destroy me. “Don’t think so. But it’s not just mine and yours on the line here.”
She wraps her arms around my shoulders. “I don’t have a history of breaking hearts, cowboy. And I sure as hell don’t plan on starting with yours or Ellie’s.”
There’s a fierce light in her gaze, hot and unyielding. It knocks the breath right out of me. Even if I know it’s not a promise anyone can make, I believe her.
In an instant, I’m lifting her face to me and crushing her mouth with mine.
I’m not careful or sweet. It’s hungry and desperate.
It’s for us. Her lips part with equal wild urgency.
A moan tears from her throat and she pulls my shirt, tugging me closer, starved.
This time neither one of us is pulling back. The longing, the ache is too strong.
It’s a kiss of surrender . . . and one heck of a risk.
A faint buzzing sound tries to pull me back, but I’m not ready to let go.
Willow draws back with a breath, eyes blazing with heat. “Dallas,” she murmurs. “There’s a . . . vibration in your pants.”
My lips are still parted. I’m ready to curse the damn thing but the amusement in her eyes has me huffing out a laugh. “I was hoping you wouldn’t notice.”
She drops her head with a smile, and I tuck loose strands behind her ear. Then I dip my hand into my pocket, and answer my phone.