Page 90 of The Guy Who Stole My Ranch

After a moment, he shook his head. “Just clacked my teeth together.” He frowned. “Why did you suddenly sit up?”

I blinked, trying to remember. The storm. Tools. Horses.

Horses!

“We need to get the horses inside!” I pointed at the window.

William chuckled and put his arm around me. “Don’t worry, I had Christopher brush them and take them back to the barn a few hours ago.”

Relief flooded through me, and my head started to throb. It was only fair; I had hit him in the jaw. For a moment, the room twisted. The dizziness from earlier wasn’t all gone. I groaned and put my cheek on William’s shoulder.

William squeezed me to him. “You okay?”

“Just a little light-headed.” I sighed. Maybe it was my addled brain, or maybe it was the brewing storm, or maybe it was the fact that I was sitting in the arms of a wonderful man, but I lifted the filter off my words. I turned to look at him. “Has anyone told you that you’re pretty awesome?”

“Not really.” His blue eyes were darker than usual.

We were close. Too close. I needed to either engage or disengage.

If I scooted away, I could put enough distance between us that our relationship wouldn’t change. If I stayed, I risked growing even more attached to this wonderful, amazing, caring man.

My mind screamed at me to move, but the warming in my chest overpowered reason, and I slipped my arms around his waist.

William stiffened and stopped breathing.

I looked up at him. “Well, I think you’re pretty awesome.”

He blinked. “You do?”

I smiled. “I do.”

At that moment, I experienced that heart-pounding, heat-rushing-up-your-cheeks feeling you get right before you kiss someone. I became both lighter and heavier at the same time. Every inch of me that was touching William burst into flames, and when he used his fingers to tilt my head up a little more, I felt like I was flying.

Did he really want to kiss me?

Me?

The curvy, rancher girl who had tried so hard to dissuade him? The rough-around-the-edges woman who had hated him? The chubby girl whom he’d seen in practically nothing and who kept injuring him?

The smoldering look in his blue eyes told me that his one and only goal was to get to my lips.

I stretched my neck, and for the briefest moment, his lips brushed mine.

Or maybe only his breath reached me. It was hard to tell, because a huge clap of thunder shook the house and made the windows rattle.

William straightened. Every muscle of his that I could feel went taut. His eyes darted from window to window.

There went that moment.

I laughed, let go of him, and sat up. “It’s just thunder.” Had I been saved by the storm? Or thwarted by it?

“It feels like it’s right on top of us.” He spoke in a whisper and looked at the ceiling.

The patter of rain turned into the clatter of hail.

“It probably is.” I grabbed his hand and got to my feet. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?”

---