Page 62 of Hold the Line

“We definitely are.” Phoebe’s hand slipped from my waist to find mine, grabbing hold. “Margot, this is my boyfriend, Deke. Deke, this is Margot. She runs the spa at the ranch.”

It took me a beat to recover from Phoebe calling me her boyfriend. I’d only just gotten her to give me a chance, and here she was, giving me more than I’d asked for. I liked the hell out of it.

I lifted my chin. “Nice to meet you, Margot.”

“You too, Deke.” Margot smiled, and not unkindly, then addressed Phoebe. “Your mother told me you’ve been seeing a tattooed cutie.”

Phoebe laughed. “Well, I’d say he’s more than cute, but since my mother has one type and it’s my father, it’s understandable she undersold Deke.”

“Those two. I’ve never met a pair more suited on the inside and opposite on the outside.” Margot shook her head. “Well, I’ll leave you to your night. Have fun.”

I pulled Phoebe back into my arms, splaying my hands over the upper curve of her backside.

“You called me your boyfriend.” I tipped my head toward Margot, now laughing with a cowboy by the pool table. “That’ll get back to your mother.”

Phoebe slid her palms up my chest and looped her arms behind my neck. “Are you more worried about me calling you my boyfriend or my mother finding out?”

“Not worried about either.”

“Then there’s no problem, is there?”

“No.” I tilted my head, brushing my lips over hers. “No problem at all, sugar.”

That was how the rest of our first real date in town had gone. Laughing, dancing, keeping my girl close. If anyone had something to say, they’d done it quietly enough I hadn’t heard.

After another beer, a game of darts, and saying good night to Joy, we ended our night, walking home hand in hand.

I’d started the week damn near certain Phoebe would never let me touch her again. Now, I had her pressed against her door, her mouth as hungry for mine as I was for hers.

One hand cradling the back of her head, the other cupping her sweet ass, I rolled my forehead against hers. If I’d been the crying sort, I might’ve let a tear slip for howrightthe last few hours had felt. I wasn’t much of an optimist—life had taught me better—but right then, I was feeling it.

She nipped at my lips. “You could come in.”

“I could.” I exhaled, already regretting what I had to say. “But I don’t think I should. Not tonight.” I smoothed my thumb along her jaw. “I want to take my time with this—make sure we get it right.”

“Okay.” She pressed her face to the crook of my neck. “I’m glad you showed up on my porch. Thank you for making things right, honey.”

“Always.” I held her tight, touching my lips to the side of her head. “Always, angel girl.”

She sighed, slowly letting her head fall back against the door. “You remember calling me that?”

“A lot of those days are a blur, but that? Yeah.” I nodded toward her door. “Go inside. I’ll stay here until I hear the lock.”

One more lingering kiss, then she slipped inside, and I stayed right where I was until I heard the soft click of the dead bolt as it slid into place.

When I headed upstairs, my boots were lighter than they’d been in years.

Chapter Twenty-seven

Phoebe

“Doyouwanttodo something fun?”

I was always up for adventure. Growing up on a property so vast, I hadn’t even seen all of it. There was never a shortage of places to explore and fun to be had. The trouble these days was finding time.

I had my Sundays, though, and now that Deacon was a real part of my life, I intended to make full use of them. So I asked the question. Deacon had given a resounding “Yes,” and that was how we ended up on a side-by-side, bumping over the hills and rocks at the ranch.

Deacon was gripping the bar above his head, his eyes wide as he took in the scenery. This part of the ranch was all rocky hills, the occasional pronghorn bounding out of nowhere, and no structures in sight.

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