Page 14 of Filthy, Dirty, Cowboy

I open my mouth to speak but she jumps in with more information before I can stop her.

“Before you say no, promise me you’ll think about it.”

“What about this town screams Portia?” My forehead wrinkles. “Just curious.”

“Aside from that man you were falling in love with?” She shrugs. “A fresh start. A chance to enjoy life for what it is instead of working for other people who don’t value the work you’re doing.”

I stare at my sister who’s on the edge of her seat, twisting her hair with wide eyes. She’s excited. I haven’t seen her like this in years.

“Just think,” she continues, “the kids could help out at the shop. We could start a flower garden.” Her tone lifts as she says, “Oh! We could sell cut flowers on the sidewalk. And we could make custom pints of ice cream with funny names and flavors.” Her shoulders straighten. “But don’t feel pressured. Do what you want.”

I can’t help but laugh as I stand from the chair and twist the shades closed. “I’ll think about it, but no promises. Okay?”

She nods and grins so wide that I know she didn’t hear what I said.

“I mean it. I’m only thinking about it.” I grab my keys off the counter. “I’ll be back in a bit. I have to clear my head.”

Her lips twist to the side. “Right. Well, don’t accidentally end up at Hawk’s. I’d hate to see what happens if you let yourself be happy.”

I glance toward her. “Sarcasm too? You’re going to have to be a lot nicer to me if you’re trying to schmooze me into buying an ice cream shop in a town I don’t like.”

She grins. “Why would I change who I am? That’s no fun.”

I don’t know why, but as I open the door, part of me expects Hawk to be standing there. I have for the past twenty-four hours… but I don’t think that’s happening.

For some reason, the thought of never talking to him again makes my stomach churn though I can’t figure why.He messed up.He should apologize to me.

I drag in a deep breath and step out into the starry night. I need a ride. A ride will fix everything.

Chapter Eight

Hawk

“You have to talk to her, dear. You’re wasting time.” Mrs. Robinson has been my voice of reason for as long as I can remember. Right now, though, I’m not sure I agree.

“I fucked up. Her job is the most important thing to her and all I did was help her lose it.”

Mrs. R laughs and shoves a plate of cookies toward me. “Her job isn’t the most important thing. I talked to that woman for well over two hours the other night. She wants love, but she needs a strong man who’s willing to battle for her and break down her walls.”

“I did battle for her, and now she’s pissed. And if what she needs is walls torn down, I’ll go right now and break every one of them.”

Mrs. R’s hand lands on mine. “Not an actual fight, dear. She needs a man who can see who she is and fight for her heart. You can’t use brute force for this one. She needs a man who will make her feel safe and give her love a chance to grow.”

Patience isn’t a virtue I do well with. I go at everything with all I’ve got. Most of the time, it works out in my favor. Emotionally, not so much. This is the reason I tend to steer clear of relationships.

“Thank you. Maybe… I’ll figure it out.” I slide back the kitchen chair and hold out my arms for a hug, which is reciprocated with warmth and more advice.

“Youwillfigure it out. And remember, love and connection doesn’t happen every day. You have to grab it while you can, hold it tight, and do whatever it takes to make things work.”

I draw in a deep breath and kiss her forehead before turning toward the door. “Sorry for the late-night drop in. I appreciate all your help and the cookies.” I rub my stomach. “I ate too many.”

“There’s more here for you when you’re ready.” She grins. “You’re always welcome.”

As the screen door shuts, I’m left with my own thoughts again. They’re sick and perverted. All I can think is what Portia felt like against my body, my skin on hers. The way she moaned out when I kissed her. The way her body responded to mine with throaty sighs and eager hips.

Fuck. I wouldn’t even know what to do with her if I had her for my own. Where would I even start?

My cock is hard by the time I get into the truck and I’m hating myself for it. If I can’t figure this emotional shit out, I don’t deserve her. The last thing I’d ever want is to hurt her further.

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