Page 77 of A Cowboy's Trust
An evil snicker escaped her. “Enough said. But also,woohoo, Sydney. I really hope she’s in the middle of wielding her knives at some appropriate moment. If necessary.”
“Enough said,” Jake reminded her.
Tansy tilted her head toward him. “It’s not warm enough for a picnic. We’ve already gone to the Heart Falls lookout.”
“Because heaven forbid we ever have a date to the same place twice.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, I suppose that’s a silly rule, all things considered. Small towns being small.”
“I’ve missed spending time with you alone,” Jake said softly.
“I’m across the hall,” Tansy pointed out. She grinned. “You seemed to remember that a couple of nights this week.”
Because the temptation to be together physically was too strong to resist. But they tended to mostly be quiet—well, as quiet as they could be while fooling around. Then they’d cuddle for a while before he’d go back to his own room.
It was starting to not be enough. Maybe it had never been enough.
He pulled to a stop in the back alley behind Buns and Roses.
Tansy peered at the door, confusion on her face. “Okay.”
“Not what you expect,” he promised. “Not Rough Cut, either.”
Instead of guiding her in the back door of her café, or in the back door of Rose’s flower shop next door, he used the key he’d been loaned to access the third business on the block.
The temperature inside was slightly cooler, with dark shades over the windows but clear security lighting along the edges of the room.
“We’re at my future brother-in-law’s art gallery.” Tansy walked forward, seeming to listen hard. “Closed for the night?”
“We have a private viewing,” Jake informed her. He offered his arm. “Right this way, m’lady.”
She laughed as he guided her past the art draped with protective cloths then up the stairs into the top floor. One room was an interactive techno-art area where Fern reigned supreme. Another was a room that Chance used while teaching lessons.
But it was the third space that Jake guided Tansy to. It held a single table with two chairs artistically spotlighted—of course. He’d have to give an extra thanks to Chance for the mood lighting.
A small table to the side held covered plates. Tansy spotted them and instantly laughed out loud. “You got Marina to cook for you.”
“I have a long history of getting Buns and Roses café to provide me with food when I’m not able to cook.” He held out a chair.
Tansy settled into place, pulling his chair closer to hers. “I seem to remember some of that long history.”
“Time to make some current history,” he told her firmly.
It was a moment out of a dream. The stress that had enveloped him fell away as he and Tansy took turns lifting the covers on the plates, laughing to find some of the treats that Marina had put out to accompany the hearty beef stew and cheesy scones.
They ate and drank and talked without having to worry about someone else being in the room. Without having to worry about being overheard or any of the other things that constantly sat at the edge of Jake’s attention.
When they’d sated their stomach’s appetites, Jake took Tansy’s hand and led her away from the table.
“You’re making me very curious,” she told him.
He pushed open the door to the classroom, striding to the far wall covered with a large bulletin board and a whiteboard. “I discovered something intriguing this past winter.” He grabbed the hidden handle and pulled, and suddenly a Murphy bed swung down from the wall into position.
He turned to discover Tansy grinning at him.
“I assume Chance has a bed in his studio for visiting artists.” Tansy stepped up to Jake and wrapped her arms around him, lifting her lips until he closed the distance between them. Kissing soft and deep and meaningful.
That same sense of peace that had hovered around them the entire meal remained as they pressed together, their hands and bodies caressing and bumping. He jerked his shirt over his head and tossed it to the side. A second later he had his hands under Tansy’s sweater, crinkling it up until it slid off, and he meshed their torsos together while he wrangled with her bra hooks.
