Page 58 of A Baby for the Texas Cowboy
“I can’t ride forever. Don’t want to think like that, but…”
“Then don’t,” she said quickly, putting one hand on his chest. “You have time. You don’t need to decide anything now.”
He covered her hand with his.
“I want to kiss you.”
“Anders.” Her breathy objection was no objection. “It’s a seven-hour drive.”
“I got a brother with a plane and a bored pilot, so I just had to ask my spoiled brat of a brother if he’d do his equally spoiled brother a solid.” His mouth was so close she just had to tilt her head and stand on her tiptoes.
She breathed him in, and her heart flipped over. Anders might come home more often.
Home.
The word sounded so right and alien at the same time.
“I’m going to kiss you now.”
“I’m going to kiss you back.”
And then Tinsley was in his arms. Her fingers curled in his hair and before she could think about the ramifications of kissing him, her lips met his. She’d always loved kissing him—the way he tasted, felt and the way his mouth moved over hers so expertly. He kissed her lips again then her cheek and slowly down the side of her neck. She tilted her head to give him better access.
“Stay safe,” she whispered. Her hands rested on his shoulders. She knew they had things to say. Apologies. Promises. Explanations. So much. But with the sun warming her shoulders and his hands and mouth bringing her to life all she wanted to do was feel.
“Intend to. I’ll be back Sunday morning.”
“Really?” The flush of pleasure that moved through her should have scared the snot out of her. Instead she deepened the kiss and slid her hand from his shoulder into his back pocket and squeezed his tight ass.
He murmured his pleasure and pulled her closer so she could feel the hard length of his reaction. She sighed into his mouth, forgetting her rules and her concerns. She looked around for a place to put down the wine and the flowers so she could hold on to him with both hands, because what he was doing felt sinfully delicious and she didn’t want to miss a second.
“Anders Wolf, what you are measuring has nothing to do with a pizza oven.” Minna’s acerbic voice made both of them jump.
She held out her hand and Tinsley blinked at her, confused.
“I’ll take that bottle of wine, dear. It was our favorite, and my friends and I are going to finish it off. August can put it on my tab.”
“Your tab?” Tinsley struggled to get her mind back on work and off of the cowboy whose kiss and touch had lit a fire even Minna’s unexpected interruption had barely banked.
“The tab I am starting. I’ve decided I like the idea of having a tasting room in town. I like you. And I like wine, and if August has any objections to me running a tab and becoming the first member of his wine club he can drive out to the house and discuss it with me personally.”
Anders stifled a laugh, and Minna’s gaze swung to him.
“You have something to say, young man?”
“Actually, ma’am,” Anders said, “I’d like to treat you and your friends to that bottle of wine and another if you have a designated driver.”
“My grandson is leaving the paper at noon to take his lunch and drive us all home. Thank you, Anders, for your kind offer. Now carry on.” Minna’s eyes twinkled, and she snagged the wine from Tinsley’s fingers and all but marched back into the tasting room.
“Carry on?” Tinsley repeated.
“I and the rest of the town have learned that it’s best to not disappoint Minna,” Anders said. “And I definitely want to remind you what you’ll be missing while I’m away.”
*
Anders waved goodbyeto August’s pilot, who had his own car parked at the Gillespie County Airport. He winced at the pain that clawed up his left side, from his hip to his shoulder, when he climbed in his truck. The ibuprofen hadn’t done jack to cut the pain, but since he knew he’d be driving, he hadn’t dared accept more than that. Although he had allowed himself one shot of whiskey the minute he’d climbed on board.
Stupid fall. He’d ridden Brawler in Tucson last year and he’d pulled the same acrobatic handstand move—left twist and head toss back like he was in a Beyoncé video. Anders hadn’t been prepared. Why? He hadn’t reviewed Brawler’s rides. Why? Looking at engagement rings online on Blue Diamond and Tiffany’s. And then he’d researched more about breeding bucking bull operations. He’d talked to the stock contractors more about how they’d set up their breeding programs than about the actual bulls he was about to climb on the back of and risk his life riding.
