Page 18 of Owned By The Cowboy
“Could you take me to the dance? Please…”
Fuck. This is not happening.
“Annalise,” Reggie says quickly, “Blayne’s not… we can’t just ask him to…”
“Why not?” Annalise interrupts. “He’s our friend. And he’s tall, so I could wear really high heels and still be shorter than him.”
“That’s not all it takes, baby.”
“What does it take?”
Reggie looks around the table, and I can see her trying to figure out how to explain things without hurting her daughter’s feelings. There’s something vulnerable in her expression, something that makes my chest tight.
“The father-daughter dance is for daddies and their daughters,” Reggie explains gently. “Baby, Blayne isn’t your daddy.”
“But I don’t have a daddy,” Annalise says matter-of-factly. “Not anymore. And Grandpa’s really old.”
“I’m not that old,” Mel protests.
“You are. You have gray hair and everything.”
“So does Blayne.”
I reach up and touch my hair automatically. “I don’t have gray hair.”
“You have some,” Annalise says, studying me seriously. “But not as much as Grandpa. And you’re not as old, right?”
This conversation is going to hell fast.
“Annalise,” Reggie says, her voice getting that warning tone again, “we are not asking Blayne to take you to a dance.”
“Why not?”
“Because… because…,” she stutters.
“Do you want to?” Annalise asks me directly.
I look at this little girl with her hopeful expression and her pigtails coming loose, then I look at Reggie. Really look at her.
She’s chewing on her plump bottom lip, the one I’ve been trying not to think about, and her hands are clenched in her lap. She’s worried about breaking her little girl’s heart, about putting me in an uncomfortable position, about how to handle a situation she’s probably been dreading since she first heard about it.
But there’s something else in her expression. Hope. Something that makes me want to be the kind of man who’ll show up for anything her and her kids need. Anything they want. Fuck. I’m fucking screwed.
“If it’s okay with your mom,” I hear myself saying before even thinking it through, “then yeah, I’d love to take you.”
Annalise squeals and claps her hands. “Really?”
Her happiness is contagious. “Really.”
The relief that floods Reggie’s face is worth whatever awkwardness this is going to cause. Her body relaxes, her shoulders dropping, and she gives me a soft, grateful smile that makes me feel like I could move mountains.
“Blayne, you don’t have to…” she starts.
“I know I don’t have to.”
“It’s… it’s a lot to ask.”
“You didn’t ask. She did.”
