Page 86 of Dirty Cowboy

“Cheers.” I clink my glass against his and take a sip, savoring the smooth, velvety taste as it lingers on my tongue.

Eric watches me, his expression unreadable. But when he exhales, it’s like he’s coming to some sort of decision.

"Emma, I want to apologize."

I set my glass down. “There’s no need?—”

“Yes, there is.” He leans in. "Had I known, I never would have?—"

“—but I wanted you to.” My voice drops to a whisper. “I still want you to.”

His gaze sharpens with darkness. He tilts his head slightly, daring me. "Say it. Tell me what you want."

The low rasp of his voice sends shivers down my spine. The air between us thickens, crackling with an unspoken promise.

I clear my throat, my fingers tightening around the stem of my glass. "I want to be with you. I want you to—” I hesitate, then blurt, “I want you to pop my cherry."

His brows shoot up. Amusement flickers across his face, softening the hard edges of his jaw. "Pop your cherry?"

I giggle nervously. "Be my first," I clarify, meeting his gaze head-on.

His smile vanishes. His jaw tenses. "And what would your brothers say?"

I roll my eyes, setting my glass down. “Honestly? I’m twenty-five; it’s time to cut that umbilical cord.”

He chuckles, nodding slowly. Then he bites into his chili, chewing in contemplative silence before finally speaking.

"I get it." He exhales, running a hand through his hair. "But I’m confused. You’re in New York. I’m tied to the ranch. You’ve always been the city girl. I’m not doing this just to sleep with you, Emma. How would this work?"

At least he’s talking about it, instead of running.

“Well, for starters, we’d have to go on a date.”

“A date?” He smirks. “And would that be in Lords Valley or New York?”

“That depends on where you ask me out.”

He wipes his mouth with a napkin, eyes locked on mine. “All right. Let’s say the date goes well, and I want you to stay here—with me—in Lords Valley.”

I shift in my seat, my heart hammering as I try to contain the surge of hope. There it is—an invitation; even if wrapped in hypotheticals, it’s still an invitation. I wet my lips, choosing my words carefully.

"It’s simple," I say, keeping my voice steady. "As a partner at Silver Securities, I’d prioritize remote work. We’d have to upgrade the WiFi, but that’s easy. And Grandpa mentioned the Sheriff’s Office could use someone to reorganize their records, so I’d move here."

"You’ve really thought this through."

I chuckle. "A little."

His lips twitch. "So, if I’m getting this right, you also have our kids’ names picked out and the colors of our matching Christmas pajamas."

I laugh out loud, shaking my head. "You think you’ve got me figured out, don’t you?"

“Hmm.”

He leans back in his chair, studying me. I wish I could read his mind, but his expression is unreadable. When the silence stretches too long, my patience thins.

"What does that mean?" I press, my voice soft.

He sets his fork down, his expression turning serious. "I don’t want this to be a one-time thing. I don’t want to hurt you."

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