Page 35 of Captured By the Billionaire Cowboy
“Sure, you could,” Rowan interjected, giving the waitress his signature look, the one that convinced people whatever he said was brilliant. No one was immune to the power that was Rowan Byrne. “Think of how good it would be for Shannon.”
Chelsea’s gaze wavered, ever-so-slightly. She hesitated, but then, she lifted her chin. “All right,” she agreed softly. “Thank you. And if there’s any way I can help with the rescue…”
“I appreciate it.” Ciara smiled warmly, picking up the steaming cup of hot chocolate. She sipped the delicious brew.
“So how long have you two been dating?”
Ciara choked.
Rowan grabbed the mug before she could splash hot liquid on herself, then rubbed her back in slow, soothing motions. She took an intoxicating breath of chocolate and Rowan. “We’re not dating.”
This was the part where Rowan was supposed to issue a firm denial. When he would say they were just friends. When they would laugh about the mistake.
Instead he said nothing.
Zero. Zilch. Absolute silence.
Which in itself saideverything.
The waitress’ lips twitched. “My mistake.”
Then the man who always kept a straight face, the man who never let his emotions show,winked. Yes, winked. He might not have said a word, but there were a thousand words in that wink.
By Chelsea’s twinkling eyes, she knew it. “Are you ready to order?”
Ciara grabbed the change in subject like a jockey clutching the reins of a Thoroughbred. “We’re waiting for someone to join us. If you could give us a few minutes, that would be great.”
“No problem.” Chelsea smiled. “Let me know when you’re ready.”
Ciara waited until the waitress left, then picked up the hot chocolate. Avoiding Rowan’s gaze, she took a slow sip and managed not to choke, spill or accidentally toss it at the man who had upended her senses. She took another taste, and her heart slowed from a gallop to a cantor.
“That was nice of you.”
She cradled the mug in her hands, its heat warming her. “I haven’t done anything yet. But I hope I can. Not only did her daughter lose a father, but she lost a husband.”
“And tragically, too, from what Frank told me.” Rowan pointed to a family photograph nestled in a handmade frame on the wall. In the image, Grandma Leigh, Chelsea and Shannon stood on a sandy shore, smiling next to a handsome man. He appeared to be in his thirties, in the prime of his life, with the same red hair and bright smile as the little girl. He was wearing a t-shirt from the local firefighter brigade.
“When he got hurt on the job, the doctor prescribed him powerful pain medication,” Rowan said in a low voice. “Too many for too long. No one is immune to that sort of thing.” He looked down at the table. “They’re so addictive, people don’t realize what’s happening until it’s too late. He didn’t even take that many, but it was still too much.”
“I am so sorry.” Ciara closed her eyes, fighting the wetness threatening. How very tragic, for him and the family who loved him. A single affliction affected so many lives. “Maybe there’s something we can do to help. There must be charities that benefit these causes.”
“My Ciara,” Rowan murmured. “Always trying to save the world.”
His Ciara?
Starving lungs reminded her to breathe. Surely the endearment was just a turn of phrase. Despite how Rowan hid it, he was trying to save the world, too. She sat back in herseat, edging ever so slightly closer to him. He did the same, and soon their sides touched along their entire length. He was all muscular hardness, power, strength and temptation. For minutes they just sat there, comfortable, content, closer than wise, yet somehow perfect.
Laughter sounded from the table over, and she glanced over to a few women not-so-subtlety staring at Rowan. She didn’t even realize she was frowning until Rowan nudged her. “You okay?”
“Of course,” she responded quickly. On the ranch he was just one of the cowboys, yet Rowan was a local celebrity. Someone that good looking was bound to be noticed.
Not thatshenoticed.
She needed to focus on something other than the delectable man next to her. “Why did you tell Chelsea you’d carried me to my bed?”
Would he deny it? Admit he’d been joking? Or would he provide a logical explanation, like he was speaking metaphorically? Instead he shrugged and declared, “Because I did.”
It was true?“That’s impossible.” She would have remembered if they fell asleep together. “You were never with me at night.”
