Page 38 of Still A Cowboy
Cal crossed to the door, expecting Willa. Instead, it was Eden, wearing a slinky red dress that left very little to the imagination. No coat. Just heels, bare arms, and a lot of confident strut as she breezed right past him like she had been invited.
Cal sighed, shutting the door behind her. “What are you doing here, Eden?”
She turned, giving him a slow smile thatprobably worked on plenty of people. “I popped into the Seaglass. Figured I’d have a drink, maybe catch you before you disappeared again.”
He crossed his arms, already done with this conversation. “If you’re here to ask about dinner, the answer’s no.”
Her smile flickered. “No?”
“No.”
Her eyebrows lifted, and for a second, she genuinely seemed thrown. “You came to Wild Rose Point for me, Cal. You said so yourself.”
“I did,” he admitted. And he needed to make this next part crystal clear. “But I’m not staying for you. I’m staying for Willa.”
The anger in Eden’s eyes flared so fast it was almost a jolt, sharp and ugly. For half a second, she looked like she might tear into him, might let all that bitterness come flying out. But then she reeled it back, fast, like flipping a switch. She slipped on that cool, dismissive mask like the rejection hadn’t just hit her square in the chest.
She gave a soft, forced laugh. “I can’t believe you fell for that soulmate bullshit.”
Cal shrugged. He hadn’t fallen for the legend stuff. He’d fallen for Willa. It was just sort of a weird footnote that they’d been branded as soulmates because of a chugged lager.
“Willa’s a terrible bet, you know,” Eden went on. “She’s impulsive. She gets bored. She’ll walk away the second you make the mistake of needing her.”
Cal didn’t rise to it. He just waited Eden out.
Eden’s chin lifted as she brushed invisible lint off her dress, smoothing it as if the fabric might salvage her pride. “Well,” she said finally, that fake sweetness sliding back into place, “good luck with that.”
Then she turned and walked out, her heels clicking down the hall without a single glance back.
Cal shut the door with a soft thud and blew out a long breath. He had no regrets. None. But the weight of it still landed square on his shoulders because it was something he should have done weeks ago.
Less than a minute later, there was another knock. This time, he smiled as he went to answer it, already knowing who he wanted it to be.
And it was.
Willa stepped inside, her hair damp and curling slightly at the ends, her sweater loose but somehow still managing to drive him out of his mind. Judging from her expression, she hadn’t seen Eden’s exit, and he considered that a good thing. He didn’t want even the memory of Eden playing into this tonight.
She glanced at the plate on the table and smiled, amusement flashing in her eyes. “Please don’t think I’ll be eating those,” she said, pointing at the sagging cookies. “But I’m pretty sure they could be used in a porn kind of way.”
It was a joke. He knew it. She knew it.
But the lust hit him like a freight train anyway.
And from the way her breath caught and her gaze slid to his mouth, he figured it slammed into her just as hard.
They lunged at each other at the same time, crashing together, mouths colliding, hands everywhere, fast and desperate and electric.
Her fingers fisted in his shirt, tugging him closer as his hands found her waist, her back, needing to touch as much of her as he could. The heat exploded between them, no hesitation this time, no thinking, just all in, all fire.
The kissing escalated fast, like they had both been holding back way too long and neither of them had any patience left. His hands slid under her sweater, finding warm skin, and her fingers tugged his flannel shirt loose from his jeans.
They stumbled backward toward the table, bumping into it hard enough to send the plate teetering. Willa’s hand flew out to steady it, but not before the cookies slid right off the edge.
Sugary dicks scattered across the floor like some weird, inappropriate hailstorm.
Willa’s laugh was breathless against his mouth. “Oh no. We’ve just committed dessert homicide.”
“Not sure they qualified as dessert,” he managed, pulling her closer, pressing her against him. “And I don’t think they’ll be missed.”
