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Usually, this kind of chaos would be enough to send me into complete and utter overstimulation, but somehow when I’m with Dustin, all of that fades away.
Tonight I’m being selfish, not even stopping by to say hello to Puddles, or Mustang, or any of the horses.
As expected, Dustin’s cabin is unlocked, and I pull him inside. He kicks the door closed with his boot, and I push my palm against his chest when he stands back against the door.
His eyes.
His fucking eyes do me in.
My rogue cowboy watches me with an intense desire—I can see that now. More to the point, I can feel it.
“One question: Did you protect me tonight because it was the right thing to do?”
He shakes his head.
“Then why?”
“You know why.”
“Let’s pretend I’m dumb and don’t get it. Spell it out for me, cowboy.”
“I care about you.”
I try to keep hold of my thoughts because we’ve never talked like this. “I like you more than a friend,” I blurt. “This whole-faking dating thing was fun for half a beat until I realized I don’t want to pretend.”
He astonishes me by leaning forward, his ass still planted against the door, and cupping my face. “I don’t want to pretend, either.” He takes a slow breath, holding me like I’m the most delicate thing in the world. “I didn’t want to rush you.”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
He puffs air out of his cheeks. “Here goes nothin’,” he drawls, then meets my gaze again. “It’s been you since the first time I met you, Tilly. And that’s not right because of the situation and how you came to be here. But I felt an overwhelming sense of protection over you ever since that day. I’ve not been with a woman at all.”
I stare at him, unable to really comprehend his words. “You were w-waiting for me?”
He swallows. “Yes, but not in a creepy way.”
“How could that ever be interpreted as creepy?”
“Tilly Jade St Clair I’m falling in love with you.”
His words make my eyes widen as I let the words settle between us.
“It’s always been you,” he goes on. “And if you didn’t want me, I’d have to find a way to be okay with that.”
I place a finger over his lips to quieten him. “Don’t ever speak those words,” I whisper.
His eyebrows knit together. “That I’m in love with you?”
“No, silly, that I don’t want you.” And then I kiss him. A second later, I realize his words and pull back. “I’m in love with you, too.”
He grins, and when our lips touch, my entire body lights up like a damn Christmas tree. Every single cell is attuned to him and only him. His lips, surprisingly soft, with scruff around his jaw, makes me tingle in all the right places. Our kiss turns from slow and sensual to urgent when he stands upright, then lifts me as I wrap my arms and legs around him. A groan leaves my lips, and he begins to walk.
“I can’t tell you how long I’ve waited for you to do that,” he murmurs.
“I’m annoyed that you didn’t make the first move,” I reply between kisses.
“I wanted you to be ready. I’m a patient man, baby, I’d wait a fuckin’ eternity to be with you.”
“What the hell is wrong with us?” I bleat. “We could’ve been doing this the entire time?”
