Page 53 of A Cowboy's Twinkling Lights Lasso
“You are not convincing me.”
I laugh. “You made me a better person; if our daughter is anything like me, she’ll know who is worth her time.”
He laces his fingers in mine and squeezes. “First off, our daughter might very well turn out like her old man.”
My smile is so natural. “I would love that.”
He smirks and his fingers move to my chin. “You may very well still be a bit naive and foolish if you think a mini-me is a good idea.”
“As long as you’re not planning on a baby tomorrow, being I’m taking the job, a mini-you is exactly what I want.”
“Flora Rowe, I will wait for you until the end of my life.” He’s a big romantic.
And as much as that one sentence fills my heart with joy, I don’t think he understands the traveling involved in my job. I’m not sure I know where we stand.
“They want me to start in the new year, so I’ll travel often. It’s everything I’ve worked for, but—”
“But?” he prompts gently.
“But I don’t know what this means for us.” My voice wavers slightly. “What if my leaving changes everything between us? We haven’t even had time to get to know each other again.”
His thumb runs lightly along my lower lip. “We will work it out. Maybe we put us on hold for a year. This is your dream. I can wait.”
“You would wait a year?”
“I’d wait five years if that’s the time you need.” His tone is light. “I’m not holding you back from something this amazing. I’ll be here, cheering you on from the sidelines.”
“Really?”
“And if you need to talk or vent, I’m just a phone call away.” He scooches closer. “Let’s not ruin this beautiful night worrying about the future.” He dips down and kisses me.
Chapter Fifteen
FLORA
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THE KISS STARTS soft and sweet but quickly deepens into something more urgent.
My hands thread through his hair, pulling him closer. Our bodies mold together. We rise to our knees, seeking closeness. I feel the roughness of the floor beneath me, but it barely registers. My focus is entirely on him. His strong arm burns a band of heat around my waist. The way his other hand grasps the side of my face with a dominating control simmers deep fantasies I didn’t even know I had.
“God, you taste good,” he murmurs against my mouth.
His hands slide down my sides, bunching the material of my dress until his fingers brush my bare skin. Shivers cascade through my body.
I pull back slightly to look at him. His eyebrows furrow at our separation while his taught muscles beg to be freed from the confines of his shirt.
“You’re beautiful.” My voice is barely above a whisper.
I reach out, tracing my fingers along the outline of his material-clad biceps. I revel in the way he flexes at my touch.
With a shared understanding, we begin undressing each other—a slow, tantalizing process filled with playful glances and whispered compliments. The anticipation builds.
With a gentle tug, he grips the hem of my jean jacket. “This is beautiful on you, but I want to see what’s underneath.”
With a mischievous glint, he slides the jacket down my arms, leaning in and kissing my throat. The buttons rattle when my coat hits the floor.
I let his tongue lap my skin until my insides are buzzing.
