Page 2 of A Baby for the Texas Cowboy
“Just stating a fact, Whiskey.”
She leaned back against the wide counter where the liquor was stocked on shelves along with the wine in racks. “Then I’ll say thank you.” Her lips curved. She breathed in, and he watched her chest rise. The brief glimpse of her creamy cleavage was driving him mad, and she knew it. “I remember your moves on and off the dance floor.” She drew out the word and let her heated gaze take a slow walk over him.
Her golden gaze scorched him to his bones. She still wanted him! And he burned for her.
Whiskey knew her power over men the way other people know the earth was round.
She had confidence and fun flirting.
He’d seen her shut down cowboy after cowboy who flirted with her at tour events this year while she’d represented and sold his brother’s whiskey. It had taken him months to devise a winning strategy.
Slow. Subtle. Teasing.
He felt none of that tonight. Reckless and desperate was more like it.
Not good.
And why was trying his luck with her again?
She was so beautiful it hurt his eyes to look at her sometimes. She was funny and smart and sexy and more aloof and unattainable than he was. So what the hell was he doing trying to get a second taste?
There were dozens of unattached women who’d been eyeing him all evening. Some he’d even considered.
But Whiskey drew him like no other.
“So you gonna give me a dance?” he asked again.
A smile hovered on her full lips, and Anders launched from feeling edgy and restless to full-throttle desire.
“Just one?”
Hell no!
Where had that come from? He was acting possessive.
She effortlessly kicked out a long, toned leg, revealing black and silver cowboy ankle boots.
“I did wear my favorite dancing boots. They double for many other favorite activities.”
She stretched, arching her body back, and reached behind her all while her leg hovered a few inches above the counter. Her gauzy dress followed the lines of her body, revealing curves he ached to touch and taste again. His mouth watered, and a small voice of reason urged him to walk away.
“You ever gonna tell me your real name?”
“Whiskey works fine for now.” She seized a bottle of Cowboy Wolf’s top-shelf brand, brought it up and over her head, flipped it, let it roll across her body before she grabbed it again, popped out the glass stopper, and poured him a shot.
Whiskey’s flair skills had always drawn a crowd.
“I want to be alone with you.”
“Want or need?” She laughed and reached out a finger to stroke down his nose and briefly touch his mouth.
He parted his lips and nibbled on the pad of her finger. She tasted like honey, peaches, and a splash of whiskey.
Damn, he was thirsty.
“Tonight is a want that feels like a need. But just a dance if that’s all you’re offering.”
Heat flared in her gorgeous golden-brown eyes. The same eyes that had intrigued him for months and haunted his dreams. Her eyes changed colors in different lights—amber, burnished gold, whiskey. In fact, he thought that had been how she’d gotten her nickname. Her eyes had always fascinated him as much as her body and her humor, sassy comebacks, intelligence, work ethic and sense of adventure. Hell. All of it. Total package.
