Page 43 of Merrily Mine
She laughed. “Why?”
“Because,” I frowned. “That first night, I fucked up. I knew you wanted to kiss me, and I pushed you away, thinking that this could never work between us.”
She took the hand that was still on her leg and interlaced her fingers with mine, not saying anything. Like somehow, she knew I needed to get this out.
“I should have kissed you right then and there. Should have carried you out the door and taken you home with me. Brought you to my bed and never let you leave. Because, Emmie Girl, I took one look at you, standing there so gorgeous at the bar, and I knew that if I let myself, you’d be my entire future.”
Emily let out a small whimper. I picked up our combined hands, kissing the back of hers.
“So I want a re-do of that night. One where I see you, and I’m not a coward. Where I buy you a drink, and then ask you to dance, and at the end of the night, I’m still the lucky bastard you decide to go home with.”
She nodded. “Okay.”
Leaning over, I brushed my lips over hers. “Stay here.” Climbing out of my truck, I walked around, opening her door. Just like when I’d taken her to my cabin, I wrapped my hands around her much smaller waist, lifting her out of the truck and setting her down on her feet. She reached up, adjusting the hat on my head and gave me a small smile. “Let’s do this, cowboy.”
“You go in first,” I told her. “Wait for me at the bar.”
She fluttered her eyelashes. “Only if you promise not to make me wait for too long.”
Fuck.My little vixen. I couldn’t help but drop another kiss to her lips. “Of course not, baby.” I gave her a soft slap on the ass. “Now go be a good girl and wait for your cowboy to find you.”
She gave me a cheeky smile as she disappeared inside. I looked up at the sky, praying to whatever God was listening for the ability to make it through the night.
“You here alone, darlin’?” I rasped against her ear, wrapping an arm around her waist just like I’d done that first night—before I’d realized it was Emily in my arms.
She turned around, giving me a coy look. “I was waiting for someone, but he didn’t show.”
“Bummer. Guess his loss is my gain, huh?” I let my hand drape possessively over her back.
“What brings you here tonight?”
“Looking for the prettiest girl in town.”
Her fingers danced over the top of the wooden bar. “And… did you find her?”
“I did.” She was standing in front of me, those long as fuck legs somehow even sexier thanks to those boots that I wanted wrapped around my waist as I fucked her later.
She smiled, those green eyes sparkling even in the low light. “So, are you gonna buy me a drink, cowboy?”
“Sure am.” I flagged over the bartender, ordering her a cocktail—what she’d been drinking that first night—and a beer on tap for me.
When we had our drinks in hand, we drifted over to one of the high top tables.
She smiled at me over the rim of her drink as she took a sip. “Mmm.” She swiped her tongue over her lips. “Sweet.”
“Glad you like it,” I said, taking a long pull of my beer.
“I do.” She took another drink. “How’d you know what I wanted?”
I flashed her a smile. “Maybe I’ve been watchin’ you, beautiful. Waiting until you were all alone to swoop in and have you for myself.”
Her eyes heated, snagging on my arms where I’d rolled up my shirt. This last week, I’d learned that forearm porn—whatever the fuck that was—really did it for her. Apparently, she enjoyed seeing my shirt rolled up over my thick, muscular arms. I’d pulled out the big guns tonight, hoping she’d be aroused and needy from my attention. This role-play wasfun—like a precursor to everything we knew was going to happen tonight.
The whole thing was like foreplay, and I was fucking obsessed.
“Yeah? So, what can I call you, cowboy?” Emily tucked a strand of wavy brown hair behind her ear.
“Mason,” I told her, wanting to hear it from her perfect lips. “The name’s Mason Elliott.”
