Page 6 of Buck Me, Cowboy

“Did you see that?” His voice carries pure joy and adrenaline.

“I saw it.” My feet touch the ground, but his arms stay around me. “You were amazing up there.”

The doubt from moments before melts away under the intensity of his gaze. Whatever this is between us, it’s not one-sided. TheFair Bingo girls can have their fantasies—I have his arms around me and his attention focused solely on my face.

“Come on.” He takes my hand as the next rider prepares. “Let’s get out of here.”

As we leave the arena together, I catch a glimpse of the women who were discussing their conquest plans. Two of them are flirting with other cowboys, but one is looking at me with daggers in her eyes.

“You’resure you know how to do this?”

Amos grins as he leads me onto the wooden dance floor surrounded by hay bales and strung with lights that cast everything in a warm, golden glow. The live band warms up on the small stage, fiddles and guitars creating the kind of music that gets into your bones and makes you want to move.

“Darlin’, I’ve been to enough county fairs to fake my way through a square dance. Besides, how hard can it be?”

Famous last words. Within minutes of the caller starting the first song, we’re laughing as Amos spins me in the wrong direction and we nearly collide with another couple. But he’s a quick learner, and soon we’re moving together with surprising harmony.

“We need a believable story for people who ask.” He speaks quietly as we allemande left with another couple. “How we met, how long we’ve been together.”

“You tried my chili at a charity event, and it was so good you asked me out on the spot?” I suggest as we promenade around the square.

“Perfect. And we’ve been seeing each other for... three months?”

“That works. Long enough to be serious, not so long that people wonder why they haven’t seen us together.”

Creating our fake history should feel calculated, but dancing with Amos makes everything feel natural.

I’m laughing at something he whispers about the overly enthusiastic caller when I notice them. The Fair Bingo girls from the rodeo have entered the dance area, and they immediately spot Amos. Like predators identifying their target, the one who glared at me earlier starts moving in our direction.

“What’s wrong, darlin’?” Amos notices my sudden tension as we bow to our corner.

“Nothing. Just...some women are staring at you.”

He follows my gaze to the approaching woman, then looks back at me with something warm in his expression. “That’s nothing new, Rebecca. I only have eyes for you, darlin’.”

Before I can respond, he reaches up and strokes my jaw with his hand. The touch is gentle and intimate, sending a flutter through my chest and making my breath hitch. Amos’ tender touch is more personal than a kiss.

The music shifts to a slower song, and Amos leads me into what the caller announces as a “sweetheart waltz.” Couples around us move into closer embraces, and when Amos pulls me against him, the heat of his body through his shirt makes me dizzy.

“This feels nice,” he murmurs against my ear, his breath warm against my skin.

“It does.” I let myself relax into his arms, following his lead as we sway to the music. For a moment, I forget about the approaching woman, the fake relationship, the magazine story. It’s just us dancing together like we’ve been doing this for years.

Then I catch sight of the Fair Bingo woman closing in, her determination clear in her predatory smile. The blonde woman locks eyes with me over Amos’s shoulder. Her expression is calculating, like she’s measuring me as competition and deciding I’m not competition at all, but merely someone for her to swat away easily so she can take what she wants.

“She’s getting closer,” I whisper, hating how insecure I sound.

Amos follows my gaze again, then looks back at me with mischief dancing in his hazel eyes. “Well then, I guess I better make this convincing.”

Without warning, he leads me into a dramatic dip that drops me low enough to see the string lights overhead. My heart pounds as his face hovers inches above mine, and then he’s kissing me.

It starts as a big, showy kiss, but the moment our lips meet, something shifts. There is nothing fake about this kiss. Amos deepens the kiss, and I respond with a lusty hunger that surprises me.

His hot mouth moves with a confidence that makes my knees weak. When his tongue sweeps across my lower lip, I part for him without thinking. The taste of him—clean and masculine—goes straight to my head.

Amos kisses me like he means it, like this kiss and relationship are real. Truly real.

When he finally brings me upright, we’re both breathing hard, and I’m completely speechless. All I see is the way Amos is looking at me—surprised, heated, and slightly overwhelmed.

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