Page 107 of Wingwoman
"Cold feet?" I teased. "How could I possibly when you're the bringer of the coffee."
He leaned against the door to my bedroom, a pair of form fitting jeans slung low on his hips and a simple white t-shirt clung to every muscle in his chest.
A slow grin spread over his face and he held up one of the mugs. "Come and get it."
"Is that a challenge?"
"Come over here and find out."
His eyes softened as I walked toward him. Before reaching out for the coffee, I ran my hand up his muscled chest. The cotton of his shirt wrinkled beneath my palm as I glided it up and over his shoulder, landing into his hair that was edging over his ears. "Are you going to get a haircut before the rodeo?"
He grinned. "Why? Don't you like my long hair?"
Quite the contrary. I loved the long hair. "No, I like it this way." I twirled my fingers into it before pulling back and reaching out for the mug of coffee, barely brushing my fingers against the warm ceramic before he pulled it back, holding it above his head and out of my reach. "Nuh-uh. You gotta pay the toll."
I lifted my brows, playing along. "Toll?" I asked.
"Mhmm."
"With pleasure," I whispered.
Pushing onto my toes, I brushed my lips to his, soft and delicate. He tasted like mint and coffee–thick, rich and creamy. Honeyed and sweet like a secret dessert made just for me.
Eyes gleaming, he handed me the coffee, but didn't let me take my first sip. Now with his hand free, he slipped a finger under my chin and tipped my face toward his again, claiming my mouth.
The delicate kiss I'd given him was gone. In its place was pure need and lust as his tongue swept between my lips leaving me weak in the knees.
When he pulled back from the kiss, he finished by brushing a lock of hair out of my eyes, making me shiver.
"I like your hair long too," he whispered.
I sighed into his touch, my eyes drifting closed and almost entirely forgetting about the hot coffee in my hand.
"Drink up," he said. "We've got a big day ahead of us."
I blinked, surprised. This was news to me. "We do?"
He brushed his thumb against my bottom lip before backing out of the bedroom. With a quick ruffle of the fur on Cash's head, he confirmed, "We do."
* * *
I was back on a horse.
I didn’t realize how panicked I would feel being back up here, but it had only been a couple of weeks since I was hospitalized and the panic was settling in my bones at the idea of riding again.
Luckily, Josh didn’t put me back on Gypsy. I was on a sweet horse named Echo who, as far as I could tell, was sweet and docile and loved carrots.
His coat was dusty brown with spots of white and a white diamond in the center of his long, crooked nose... not that it seemed to bother him. His coat was smooth and even and shined in the morning Texas sun. Head held high, his ears perked up and twitched attentively.
The smell of leather, oiled horseshoes, and hay surrounded me.
“Okay, Echo, you stick to a slow trot and stay on the trails and we’ll be just fine… you got that?” I whispered, running my palm over the silky fur at his neck. His mane was short and coarse but his coat was smooth underneath.
I got a responding chuff.
Josh tilted his head and I could see the amusement in his eyes. “Echo’s never been much of a conversationalist,” he teased.
I was too nervous to even give a polite chuckle in response.
