Page 89 of Dirty Cowboy

At exactly nine, Eric waits for me on the porch. God, he’s beautiful. Dark jeans hug his muscular legs, and a crisp white shirt stretches across broad shoulders. His leather boots gleam under the morning light, but it’s the sunflower in his hand that steals my breath.

"Good morning, beautiful." He leans in, pressing a kiss to my cheek as he tucks the flower into my fingers.

"Good morning." I can’t stop smiling. "I saw you let Shadow out with the herd."

He brushes his thumb down my cheek, his touch featherlight. “She deserves another chance for not killing you.”

My stomach tightens, the warmth of his gaze pulling me deeper into this thing between us.

"It makes me very happy," I say softly. "Thank you."

His eyes darken, his fingers lingering for just a second longer than necessary.

"So, where are you taking me, cowboy?"

He reaches for the scarf in my hair, untying it with a smirk. Before I can react, he wraps it around my eyes.

"It’s a surprise. We’re taking Suzy."

I laugh but let him guide me toward the car. The old truck rocks and sways as Eric drives, his fingers tracing soothing circles over my hand. Ten minutes later, he takes a sharp turn and parks.

"Almost there," he murmurs, amusement lacing his voice.

He helps me out, his grip steady as he leads me forward. The ground changes beneath my feet from packed dirt to soft grass. The crisp scent of autumn fills the air, mixed with hints of wood smoke and something rich, something golden.

Then he removes the blindfold and my breath catches.

Sunflowers.

Thousands of them stretch in every direction, their faces tilted toward the morning light. Some stand taller than me, their golden petals shimmering in the breeze. The field feelsalive, a vast, undulating ocean of gold.

"Eric, it's beautiful."

He smiles. “Better than a cornfield?”

Before I can answer, he turns and heads back to the truck. I watch as he opens the tailgate and lifts out a large wicker basket, then pulls a rolled-up blanket from behind the seat. There’s something so rugged and sweet about the way he handles everything with care, as if it all matters—because it does.

He returns and spreads the blanket over a patch of soft grass, smoothing out the corners before placing the basket in the center. Then he glances at me, a flicker of unease in his eyes.

"Hope you're hungry," he says, his voice betraying a slight edge of nerves.

I lower myself onto the blanket, my heart swelling as he unpacks the basket. The golden pancakes drizzled with syrup, fresh fruit, and a cheese platter so artfully arranged it looks like something out of a magazine, make my mouth water. A bottle of wine catches the morning light.

I arch a brow. "Wine for breakfast?"

He shrugs, opening it with ease. "I’m nervous. It’s been a while since I’ve been on a date. Come to think of it, I’ve never been on afirstdate.”

I blink. “Never?”

He smirks, pouring us each a glass. “Before yesterday, I never found the right woman to ask.”

Eric’s boyish smile melts me, turning my insides into a puddle of warmth. As he pours the wine into plastic cups, our fingers brush. The simple touch sends goosebumps racing up my arms. The morning sun kisses my skin as we settle into conversation, and I find myself watching him more than I should. As Greg’s call burns in my mind, I search his face, scanning for any hint that he knows about the missing money.

But I push it all down. Not now. Not here. I won’t ruin our first date with talk of financial ruin and unexplained withdrawals.

"I appreciate your concern about last night," I say, lifting my cup and tapping it lightly against his. "But I can’t exactly go around broadcasting my virginity to every man I date. I honestly fail to see the issue."

His eyes darken, gaze locking onto mine like a predator honing in. "Don’t you realize I was about to take you last night?"

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