Page 16 of My Secret Santa Dallas

“Have a good night you both, and tell Warrick hello for me,” she said cheerfully.

Matching her smile, I said, “I sure will, and the food was delicious. I’ll certainly be back.”

“We’ll love to have you,” she threw over her shoulder while going to another table.

Padding after Dallas, I found him pacing in the dusk outside the truck. Astonished that it was so late— the stars were coming out— I waited for him to stop, but he didn’t. After a pointed look at my wristwatch, I asked. “Are you going to walk a trench into the pavement, or are we going back to the ranch?”

He stopped, spun on his heel, and had me up against the driver’s door of the truck in seconds. “Don’t try to get into my head.”

“I don’t have to,” I said calmly. “You already tell me what is going through your head by the way you act.”

“You’re not as smart as you think you are,” his eyes glimmered dangerously.

“You’re not as enigmatic as you think, either,” I said. “Come on, admit it, Dallas, you either want to kick me out of this state or fuck me. Which is it?”

“You’re out of your mind,” he uttered. “The only thing I want is for you to finish your assignment and run back to Texas.”

He pushed off to walk away, but I grabbed his hand, “Tell me now. What do you?—”

Dallas’ kissed me so hard it nearly lifted me off the floor, the kiss vibrating through my whole body.

I kiss him back as hard as I can, with abandon, because for a while, I knew better, and I wanted to do this. Sensation overrode everything, a tide of pleasure washing through me so strong that I nearly lost my bearings. My lips clung desperately to his, and he stabbed his tongue through my lips with desperate hunger.

He kisses me again. Harder, his hand digging into my hip. Behind him are the lights of the diner and the road beyond that. This spot isanythingbut private.

I kiss him back. I can’t help it. I slide one hand around his waist, feeling the warm muscles under his skin, and pull him into me. The man was a good kisser. Beyond good. In fact, that was the most electric kiss I’d ever experienced.

I couldn’t get away from the relentless kiss. Disoriented, I tried to remain focused on my surroundings, yet all I could feel were the wicked, sinful, exciting sensations unfurled within. Panting, I tried to shut out the feelings. The tips of my breasts were stiff and throbbing. I was wet.

When he pulled away to suck in a breath, I couldn’t see clearly. Had he really… fucking sucked the air out of my lungs?

Dallas shoved away and yanked the door to the driver’s seat open; I swallowed once, twice, three times before I hobbled around to the other side of the truck and got in. I hadn’t even remembered the bag of leftovers dangling from my fingers, and numbly, I rested the bag on my lap.

“Coffee,” I told him.

“We shouldn’t have done that,” he said instead.

“Yeah, that is very clear,” I replied. “I still want my coffee.”

“Riverbend Café is closed by now,” he said. “I guess the best you can do is the Silver Spur. It’s a sports bar.”

“As long as I get a decent cup of Irish Coffee,” I said.

We drove through the town, and now the lights were up and flickering dreamily; I could see what the place would be like at Christmas. We didn’t speak again until we got to the bar and stepped in. It was another throwback, but not to the sixties, this time to the Old West.

“What is with this town and throwbacks?” I muttered to myself while stepping through the wooden batwing doors.

“It’s cool,” Dallas said.

“It’s kitschy.”

The place had a rustic, inviting interior, scratched wooden tables, leather seats, and tin plates on the wall; a long row of beer taps behind the bar, and two men were manning the bar. People clinked glasses together, and spoons tapped on the crystal as the bartender stirred cocktails, murmured conversation, and occasional laughter swirled around us.

“Bar or booth?” I asked.

“Bar,” Dallas said shortly, “I need a beer.”

One of the barkeeps did a double-take look at Dallas, and I realized that this was going to happen a lot tonight. “Dallas?”

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