Page 77 of Pretend To Be My Cowboy
She knew this. But she couldn’t bring herself to do anything but nod when he asked, “May I have the next dance?”
The music was already starting, and it was slow in tempo, the lyrics an undeniable love song.
She swallowed hard as she rested her hand on his shoulder. Did she have a choice?
No. Her heart and her body were both willfully ignoring that inkling of fear.
There’d be plenty of time after she left for regrets and indecision. But right now there was just this.
There was only Nash, and her, and the music that seemed to wrap around her and draw her into a dream.
He moved slowly this time. They barely shifted from the spot where they stood, merely moving back and forth in time to the music.
He held her so close she could feel the thud of his heart through his chest, echoing hers. She forgot where they were as his gaze met hers and held on.
She couldn’t look away. She couldn’t force a laugh to break this new emotion which formed between them like a thread, connecting them and tying them together in a way she couldn’t understand.
It wasn’t an awkward feeling, more like that weight of anticipation. The fear and excitement and breathlessness that came just before diving headfirst off the high dive.
Her heart slammed against her ribcage as she felt it—that realization that she was standing on the brink. She could back away now or see where this led.
Nowhere, the voice of reason cried in the back of her mind.This can’t go anywhere. It’s not even real.
But that voice was a hushed whisper, drowned out by the far louder beating of her heart, utterly lost in the swell of music that carried her away from reality and left her in the most perfect fantasy.
She was living her wildest dreams when she looked up into Nash’s fixed gaze. There was an intensity there that said he’d never let her go.
Her lips parted for air because she’d forgotten how to breathe.
And then he was leaning down, his breath fanning against her lips. He hesitated, giving her a chance to stop him. But hot liquid surged through her veins, and that voice of reason was dead and buried under the need to see this fantasy through.
Her eyelids fluttered shut, a silent yes to his unspoken question.
And then his lips brushed over hers.
And she was lost.
Warm, tender, firm—his lips pressed softly at first. Testing. Making sure she was okay with this.
Her lips parted beneath his on a soft exhale and he matched her movement, kissing her harder. Tenderness infused his every touch as their lips met and clung, moving together in a dance all their own.
The kiss was so perfect—a fantasy come to life. She felt like a cherished girlfriend. Like his real girlfriend.
And then the blissful moment came to an abrupt halt as the sound of a whistle cut through the pretty melody of the band. A cheer rose in the air and someone called Nash’s name.
“That’s right, cowboy! You kiss your lady!”
Emma pulled back with a start to see Nash gazing down at her. For a moment, he looked just as dazed as she felt, but then he blinked and grinned, glancing around at the cheering crowd. This uproar was for them. She ducked her head, letting it fall against his chest as heat swept up her neck and into her cheeks.
His chest rumbled with a low laugh as he let go of her hand to pat her back. “All right, all right,” he called, in a good-natured tone, to his family and friends. “Show’s over.”
“It’s about time you got yourself a girlfriend, Nash,” someone shouted.
The words had reality returning with a sickening thud, settling into her gut like a lead weight.
“I know, I know,” Nash called back. “I’m a lucky guy.”
She lifted her head, spotting the women out of the corner of her eye. They were sharing disappointed smiles and that was probably what Nash was going for.
