Page 92 of The Runaway and the Rugged
A tearful laugh slipped past my lips.
“I’m not a rich man and I’m not an easy one either. This is all I got, the ranch, the town, my daughter, my reason for everything I am. You can have it all. If you’re willing to try, if you’ll give me a chance, I promise I won't let you down. I don’t care about how you got here, what happened before me, I just want you. I want all of you, if you’ll have me.”
Before he could stop me, I flung open the door and jumped into his awaiting arms. Swift hands caught me around the waist, where he smoothly slid them down my thighs and wrapped each leg around his hips.
We weren’t apart for more than a few seconds before our mouths connected in a blistering kiss. Weeks’ worth of pent-up energy surged between us as low, needy growls mingled and passed softly between our mouths.
It was everything and more.
Slow and languid, his tongue swept across mine with quiet urgency. Like he wanted nothing more than to demand more from me, yet reveled in the slow, sensual pace we shared.
Everything about it was reckless, but I wasn’t worried enough to care. I wanted Garth more than I wanted my next breath and when we finally pulled away to gather ourselves, he used the pad of his hard, calloused thumb and tucked my hair behind my ear.
The movement was sweet while his eyes filled with endless hope and possibilities.
“You with me, Outlaw?” he asked, his mouth red and moustache wet from our kiss.
“I don’t care if you’re wealthy or have nothing at all, Garth. That doesn’t matter to me. You’re a good man, an even better dad, with a heart of gold. It would be stupid of me to not forgive you. So, yes, cowboy, I’m with you.”
27
GARTH
Ididn’t know what to expect after claimin’ Emelia as mine. I figured my desire to take her to bed would be stronger, and wantin’ to kiss her wherever and whenever I felt like it, but what I didn’t expect was for the feeling I got when she told me was going to start workin’ weekends at The Lonely Barrel.
I wanted to say no way, absolutely fuckin’ not, but I couldn’t.
I wasn’t that man. The type who dictated what his woman did and controlled every aspect of her life. And from the way her voice wobbled with nerves when she told me, it was clear she expected that to be my answer.
Fuckin’ rich controlling asshole…
Instead, I watched in awe as her eyes lit up like the Fourth of July when I told her I was proud of her, because I truly was. She may not be working in some fancy building, doing highfalutin work, but she made this happen all on her own.
I wasn't sure she even knew how to make a drink let alone serve one, but regardless, I wanted to be the man who cheered her on from the sidelines. And that’s why I was here, at The Lonely Barrel, watchin’ closely and giving her my support. I told my mom I was goin’ to check on Emelia and to watch Grace for afew hours, but of course she didn’t buy it. She knew I had a thing for her, but kept that observation to herself.
Emelia was a few hours into her shift, wearing a tight Lonely Barrel top with a denim skirt and the cowgirl boots I bought for her.
She looked damn good. Almost too good, because every other hot-blooded male in the vicinity thought the exact same. Every now and then she’d cast me a dangerous glance, one that read if we weren’t here, she’d make all my damn fantasies come true.
Trouble.
She was trouble and I was fuckin’ eating it up.
“Boss man!” a familiar, loud, very obnoxious voice called out, causing me to toss back the rest of my beer. Settling onto the stool beside me, Beau raked a hand through his overgrown blond locks, lookin’ like some damn pretty boy. “What are you doin’— Oh…” His eyes instantly landed on Emelia who was busy interacting with some old man at the bar, her smile intoxicating, lighting this whole damn place up. “That’s why you’re here.”
He grinned sheepishly, instantly making me want to wipe it clean from his face, but I held back.
“Didn’t know she got a job here. She looks like she’s enjoying it,” he pointed out.
She did look like she was enjoying it. Even when she tripped over a mat on the floor, she just laughed, looked at me, and went back to workin’.
Swear I could watch her all day long.
“She’s here on the weekends.”
He rapped his knuckles onto the bar counter then turned to me.
“Ah, so you still got her durin’ the week then.” He smiled.
