Page 90 of Dirty Cowboy

The bluntness of his question jolts me, sending a rush of heat through my body as memories of his hands, his mouth, and his heat pressing into me, come flooding back.

"Why do you think I let you touch me?" I whisper, challenging him.

He grunts, but his mouth curves into a smirk, a wicked gleam lighting up his eyes.

I press on, needing him to understand. "Iwantedyou to fuck me."

"As irresistible as that sounds, darling," he murmurs, voice dropping into a thick, seductive drawl, "you’re not ready for me."

Frustration flares in my chest, but before I can argue, he shifts, eyes narrowing. "Besides, I have questions."

I sit up straighter, biting back a sarcastic response.Ihave questions too. About the mysterious cash withdrawals, about Huntz, about the future of this ranch. But I hold them back. Right now, I want to know what’s onhismind.

"How has no man locked you up in a castle and claimed you as his?"

The answer is simple, but I’m not sure how he’ll take it.

"I'm not obsessed with you or anything," I start, already regretting my word choice as his brows knit together.

"But?" he prompts.

I take a breath. "I may have liked you for a very long time."

His eyes search mine. "How long?"

"Long enough to dress as a cowgirl every Halloween since my sixteenth birthday," I confess, my face burning. "Every Easter and Fourth of July barbecue, I saw you and justknewyou were the one. I knew I had to wait for you, and so I…saved myself."

Understanding dawns in his eyes, and the intensity of his stare is almost too much.

I take another breath, summoning the last of my courage. "I may have more than liked you for a while," I murmur. "To quote Bella, I amunconditionally and irrevocablyin love with you."

Silence stretches between us as my confession hangs in the air, trembling and raw. For years, this truth has been mine alone, fragile and untouched. And now, it’shis.

His brows furrow. "Who's Bella?"

"Just a movie reference," I mumble. "What matters is that I've loved you for a long time."

His expression shifts from surprise to tenderness, then uncertainty. I hold my breath as he works through whatever war is happening inside his head.

"Iwantto tell you I love you back," he finally says, voice rough with honesty. "Itfeelsright, but… Emma, I’m not sure what I’m feeling. This is new.You’renew. For so long, you were just my best friend’s little sister, and I was always single. This is uncharted territory for me, but now…" His eyes burn into mine, and my stomach tightens. "Everything’s changing so quickly."

The air between us crackles as we inch closer on the blanket, the weight of every touch, every look, heavier than before. He leans in, brushing his lips over mine, and the world quiets. The kiss is slow and thoughtful, filled with promises I can’t quite name.

As we pull apart, his thumb traces my lower lip.

"We’re engaged," I remind him softly.

"Fake-engaged," he corrects, but his eyes glint with something unreadable. "When I propose—reallypropose—it'll be special. More than just a train ride to Lords Valley."

My breath catches.The same cowboy who swore he wasn’t the marrying type is now talking about a real proposal?

Before I can respond, he reaches inside the picnic basket and pulls out a small box, setting it in my hands.

"It can’t be an engagement ring. I already have one," I tease, my heart pounding.

"It’s not. Open it."

I lift the lid. Nestled inside is a delicate gold anklet, with a tiny sunflower charm dangling from its chain.

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