Page 4 of For Cowgirls and Kings
ADALENE
July 13th, 2024
“It’s just dinner.”His voice is like smoky silk, soft and warm against my skin. And I have to fight the overwhelming urge to roll my eyes up at him. Because even if I wish I could, I know I shouldabsolutely notwant to say yes.
It’s far too dangerous.
“Then it shouldn’t be a big deal if I have to politely decline.” This he cocks a dark, full brow at and my stomach does that stupid somersault thing that makes me feel partly like I want to throw up and partly like I want to hump him.
“Politely?”
The fucking nerve of this guy.“It would have been polite if you had accepted my no, three tries ago, yes.”
“Give me one good reason why.” There’s an edge of humor in his voice that causes chills to erupt over my arms.
“I have to go home and feed Queen Tut.” I cock a hip at him, and his second perfect brow raises to meet the other.
“Queen Tut? Don’t you mean King Tut?”
“I think I know the name of my own cat, thank you very much.”
“I just mean, wasn’t the famous Egyptian a guy?”
I scowl at him, pinching my eyebrows together, and place both of my balled fists on my hips. “How very sexist of you. A famous Egyptian couldn’t be a girl?”
He takes a small step toward me. “What, no. That’s not what I meant, I just—” He shakes his head, his jet black, perfectly gelled hair not moving an inch. What I wouldn’t give to run my hands through it and mess it up—just once.
“So we’re on the same page? I can go home to my sweet boy and we’ll have dinner another time.” I love bantering with him, but lately it’s done nothing but make me feel hot and sweaty, and so very confused.
“Wait, what? Queen Tut’s a boy?” His voice borders on hysterical, and I know I’ve officially sent him for a loop. Which was the goal. If he’s confused, he’ll give up on this silly pursuit to take me out—hopefully.
“Are you homophobic too? Queen Tut can’t be a boy's name?” I brush a long strand of hair over my shoulder. His eyes track my hand and the long tresses of hair, and heat gathers heavy in my belly at the intensity of his gaze.
“Damn it, Dale, no. You know I’m not. I’m just fucking confused. Why would you…”
I put a hand in the air between us, silencing him. “He’s into boys. A super manly name didn’t suit him—but a powerful one did. There, do you need any more background on the love of my life or can you drop it now?” I try to fight the smile from tipping my lips, but I fail…miserably.
His scowl instantly melts away, a timid smile playing across his lips, eyes sparking with mischief. “I’ll follow you to your house, and then we’ll go from there.” He turns on his heel, and strides through the now empty parking lot with the authority of a king. Like he owns the place.
The thought makes me snort. And then I process his comment, my heart plummeting to the pit of my stomach.
“What?” I screech. “Mateo, you’re not coming to my house.”
He turns around, but continues to walk towards his shiny truck, his steps sure and steady. He flashes me a full-watt smile and it’s a miracle I don’t collapse into a puddle right there.
“Better hurry, Dale, Queen Tut’s hungry.” He’s smiling and laughing softly, but I don’t miss the edge of a growl in his voice.
What the fuck’s happening here?
I try to put my key in the front lock, but my hand shakes slightly, making it impossible to line the key up. “Fuck,” I hiss and stop, lowering the key to my side, taking a deep breath. I raise it again, just in time to feel Mateo’s heat like a blanket across my back. I whirl on him, ready to tell him to back the fuck up, but no words come out.
He’s so close that as I turn the fabric of his white shirt brushes across my cheek, and his heavy cedar and spice smell coats my nostrils. I suck in a shaky breath, and tip my head up to look at his face. He towers over me by more than a foot, putting my face right in line with muscles I didn’t even know existed beneath his perfectly pressed shirts. But they’re there, and they’re brushing against my already heated cheeks and nose, making it impossible to form any coherent thought.
His face tips down to look at me, one brow already quirked in question, a half smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. His soft brown eyes glitter down at me, and I know he’s enjoying making me uncomfortable. Which is an entirely new facet to our lifetime friendship—he’s never flirted with me before, notthat I can be certain that’s what’s happening now. But fuck, it sure feels like it.
“Do you mind?” I bite out, mustering as much irritation as I can. In response, his smile spreads, and he extends one arm to rest above my head on the doorway. The shirt stretches over the muscles hidden beneath, the seam threatening to burst and I swallow loudly.
“Not at all. Take your time.” His voice is a playful whisper, the words fanning across my scorching skin.
