Page 64 of Worth the Want
“Here goes nothing,” I mutter and make my way to the entrance. The man there tells me the basics, and then it’s up to me. When I get to the machine, though, I’m finding it difficult to find a way on. That’s when I feel strong arms lift me, helping swing my leg over the saddle. I giggle and look down to see Knox has come to help me. My hero.
“You look like a real cowgirl up there,” he says, grinning.
“Is that what you’re into, Knox? Cowgirls?”
“I’m into whatever you want me to be, Honey.”
I’m dizzy—drunk on his openness. Probably not the best way to go into riding a mechanical bull—but here we are. Knox stands at the edge of the arena, leaning against the railing, a disgustingly sexy smirk on his face. Like he knows what he just said has knocked me so off-kilter I can barely think.
The buzzer blows, and I hang on for dear life, doing my best to mimic what I saw Colt doing up here. Unfortunately for me, that’s not at all what’s happening—I’m flailing. It’s like when you think you sound like a pop star singing in your car, so you record it, then you find out the truth. Well, the truth here comes in the form of me flying off a hunk of metal and face-planting into a plastic-covered mat. I roll over, laughing.
“You did good,” Knox tells me, grinning and holding out a hand to help me up.
I chuckle. “No, I didn’t. But you’re sweet to say so.”
“Wanna get out of here?” The heat behind his words doesn’t escape my notice.
“If it’s with you, then yes,” I tell him.
In a surprising display of public affection, he presses a quick kiss to my lips before hauling me over his shoulder like he did the other night at the bar. The crowd cheers, and I blush what must be scarlet.
“Well, I think this is going to start some rumors,” I tease.
“They’re not rumors if they’re true,” he tells me, smacking my ass, causing me to squeal.I really want them to be true.
“You’re making a habit of leaving family events like this, Indie!” Rhett calls along with a few wolf whistles. I try to wave from my perch and see Winnie leaning into Mare laughing, clutching her stomach.
As I’m carried out to the dimly lit parking lot, my brain clings on to “family events,” and the warmth inside me glows a bit brighter. I’ve missed these kinds of nights. Carefree and surrounded by people you care about.
At the edge of the parking lot, Knox slides me down the front of his body, cupping my ass as I wrap my arms around the back of his neck.
“Do you make a habit of carrying women off?” I ask, playing with the hair curling on the back of his neck.
“Woman,” he corrects. “Just one.” My heart feels like it may break out of my chest at his admission. His mouth ticks up on one side, and I kiss the corner.
Knox is forty-one. A man in full.Boyfriendprobably feelsso juvenile to him, and even though it hasn’t been that long, I’m feeling desperate to lay claim to him.
Back on my feet, Knox kisses the hell and the heaven out of me against his truck. He kisses me until I can’t breathe and my lungs burn, but I don’t ever want to stop. I want to be kissed by this man for however long I’m allowed.
“Careful, Hazey!” I call to my little threenager. She’s trying to climb a rock by the lake’s edge, but her little feet keep slipping off it.
“Want to hold my hand while you do that?” Indie asks her. She nods, reaching up to take the offered hand.
We picked Hazel up from my parents’ this morning after getting breakfast in town. We were on the receiving end of a few prying looks, but it’s calmed down a bit since the festival a couple of weeks ago. My parents are trying their best to rein in their excitement, but the way my mom hugged Indie after Hazel ran to her arms gave her away.
When we got back, Indie wanted to do something fun with her. So now we’re hiking around the lake, gathering wildflowers to make bouquets for the kitchen table.
“I like this one!”
“Oh, I love that one. It’s just the pop of color we need. We don’t have that many red ones.” Indie holds out the flower basket for Haze to put her flower in. “What do you think, should we get some more yellow or purple next?”
Hazel’s expression is one of concentration before announcing, “Purple!”
“Excellent choice, Hazey.”
Sally hangs back with me while they walk along the trail in front of me, Indie letting Hazel climb up small rocks and jump off them, not bothering to keep her on task. Where I like to have a plan, or a schedule, she tends to be more flexible. Sometimes she drives me crazy, like finding all my pots and pans in different places because she thought reorganizing them would be helpful.It’s not for someone like me.But if her moving my kitchen utensils means she’s in my home, then I’ll take that over the alternative any day.
My phone buzzes in my pocket.
