Page 52 of Slow Hands Cowboy

“You can breathe,” he said. “I promise.”

And then it was like a rush of oxygen moved through her body. Like he had called for the breath from her lungs and helped it move smoothly.

That was a terrifying thought.

That he could have so much power over her body.

And not something she wanted to think about right then.

She could barely finish eating, but it would be a disservice to the ravioli to leave too many, so she did her best, but when the waiter came back and asked if they wanted dessert, she declined.

Walker quickly paid the check, which she was sure everybody in the room observed, and then he took her hand and led her out of the restaurant, back onto the crowded street, and only then did she realize how strangely everyone had behaved during that dinner.

Normally people would’ve come over and talked to her. If she had been with Alan, she would’ve had any number of conversations during that dinner.

But she hadn’t spoken to anybody and nobody had spoken to her.

It was also unaccountably awkward. And just plain... humiliating.

But as they stood up to go, Walker slipped his hand in hers, like that was the expected thing, like it was a normal, everyday occurrence that they should touch each other. It was what everybody in the restaurant was supposed to think, but her own body responded to it exactly as though it were a shock. And it was.

Her system still couldn’t get over the fact that he touched her now.

But only for this. Only for show, but it didn’t stop her from feeling like everything was hot. And a little bit too bright. Like the lights in the restaurant suddenly weren’t dim and moody, but were turned up to their full wattage, and like they had lit up her body along with them.

It made her stomach feel jittery. Like it was full of Jell-O. And that was a ridiculous image, but one that she clung to, because something ridiculous might make her feel a bit more relaxed in the end. Relaxed was a silly goal, a silly word. Nothing about this was relaxing. Nothing.

They walked out of the restaurant together, and he opened up the door to the truck for her, like he was a gentleman. Or maybe even more alarming, like he thought she was a lady, which was certainly not the way that he had treated her before. Not ever.

This isn’t real.

They got into the truck, and he started the engine, moving away from the curb. And she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding as they moved away from the restaurant. Well, wasn’t that funny. She had read that phrase in many books, many times, and she had always thought it was silly. How could you be unaware that you were holding your breath?

She knew now. It could absolutely happen, but you had to be in a situation that was uncomfortable enough that you had lost touch with every part of your body.

Every part except the one that Walker had touched.

Her hand still burned.

She tried to ignore that, and she... rubbed her hand against her thigh, as though it might do something to... neutralize the charge that he had created in her body.

“That was his sister, wasn’t it?”

He didn’t ask that question until town was behind them. Until they had begun to make a safe escape.

“Yes. It was.”

“Have you heard from her at all since the debacle?”

“No. I haven’t. Nobody from his family, in spite of the fact that we were supposed to be becoming one family unit through the marriage. It’s like I don’t even exist. But to be honest, I hadn’t even thought about hearing from them. I don’t want to. I don’t want to have anything to do with anybody, I just...” It surprised her, the vitriol pouring through her veins now.

She did feel angry that Jill hadn’t contacted her. She did feel angry that her once-future mother-in-law hadn’t even sent her a note, with her lovely, neatly printed handwriting.

That her gregarious former future father-in-law hadn’t sent off a text that at least hinted at an apology for his son’s behavior. But no. She hadn’t heard from anybody. At all.

“Well, that must be galling.”

“Yeah. It is. Thanks.”