My Cowboy Valentine: Be Mine, CowboyHill Country Cupid

by Jane Porter

  “Oh, fine!” Her acceptance came out in a soft snarl that belied the flutter of anticipation she felt. Dancing was as natural to her as breathing, and the idea of swirling around the floor, her limbs tangled with Nick’s, was damned exhilarating.

  And the song the band had just started was fast, not one of those sappy love ballads that caused “dancers” to just sway in place. Some claimed slow dances were the most romantic, but Tess found them to be awkward and pointless. Dancing was meant for bodies to move, to feel, to push limits.

  On the floor, Nick took her hand in his, splaying his other hand against her back. “Keep up now, Contessa.” Then he gave her the most devastating grin she’d ever seen. It liquefied her; only years of discipline kept her steady on her feet.

  He spun her into a brisk modified polka. Her heart raced, and heat coursed through her. Left, right, left. Right, left, right. All while whirring in tightly controlled circles that kept her curves pressed to his broad body, hard with muscles carved from hours of manual labor. One of his legs was between hers, as much as the denim of her skirt would allow, and she felt the briefest twinge of embarrassment that he might guess how the contact affected her. But there was no chance for embarrassment to take root. Not when Tess was having the time of her life.

  She was flying, tethered to the world only by the hold of the most attractive man she knew. When she’d seen him on horseback, she’d thought him in his element. But that was before she’d seen him on a dance floor. His body worked in perfect choreography with hers, their inherent rhythm superseding the notes produced by the band. They moved in a pulse and tempo no longer dictated by the music, and she never wanted to stop. Her lungs burned as they spun faster, the need to catch her breath secondary to the harmony of two sublimely attuned bodies completing one motion.

  When the song stopped, Nick led her in one last spin for good measure, then dipped her dramatically. Years of accumulated skill allowed her to bend nearly to the floor without overbalancing them. Spontaneous applause surrounded them, and Tess straightened. She’d never been intimidated by performing in front of an audience but suddenly she felt an unfamiliar stab of shyness. Probably because what she and Nick had just publicly shared felt far more intimate than simple dancing, as if they’d done something illicit in front of their neighbors.

  Easily a dozen people were staring at them—including Farrah Landon, whose eyes were wide. It was commonplace to see Wyatt or Kevin Calhoun cut a rug with a date but watching Nick masterfully navigate the dance floor was a rare sight. Tess had never needed to offer him advice about women or drag him to the mall in the next county. All it had taken was three minutes and an up-tempo song.

  “Plan B, huh?” She forced herself to move away from him, breathing hard. “More like your secret weapon.”

  Chapter Eight

  Nick tried to focus on what Tess had just said to him, but he couldn’t think. Liar. He was thinking plenty—about the feel of Tess’s lush body, the temptation of what her mouth might taste like, the desire to sink into her. He was shell-shocked, watching her mouth move but not really hearing her words over the dull roar in his ears. What were the odds she’d just said, “Take me, Nick”?

  He cleared his throat. “Wh-what?”

  “I said, why didn’t you tell me you could dance like that?”

  “I don’t. Usually.” Not like that.

  He knew how to dance. With all the town festivals and outdoor concerts, it was difficult to grow up here without learning the fundamentals, plus Erin had given all three of her boys some pointers. But he’d wondered if he would be out of practice.

  Instead, everything he’d ever known had come rushing back to him the moment Tess stepped into his arms...along with a few things he wasn’t sure he’d known in the first place. She was living inspiration, motivation for a man to do his level best.

  They returned to their table. Neither of them showed any interest in their food, but they both gulped down glasses of water. Nick flagged down the waiter to request more.

  The waiter smiled at Tess. “Bravo! I feel like I should ask you for your autographs after that performance.”

  Tess ducked her head. “Just letting off some steam.”

  Nick bit his tongue, battling back suggestions of other ways they could release some steam if she was interested. Was she interested? Tess was so naturally outgoing and friendly that a man with limited dating experience might misread her. Had he imagined the sudden huskiness of her voice earlier when she’d said kissing him wouldn’t be a hardship? He’d put himself on the line by asking if that meant she wanted to kiss him.

  It’s crossed my mind.

  That wasn’t specifically a yes, but it sure wasn’t a denial. He cast an involuntary glance at Farrah Landon, recalling just why Tess had invited him out tonight. Catching his eye, Farrah gave him a coy little finger wave that left him bemused.

  It was difficult to recall why he’d felt so drawn to Farrah. Nostalgia, combined with their bond as two single parents who had survived divorce and were each raising daughters? He’d asked Tess tonight for specific qualities she would require in a relationship. Why had he never thought to ask himself that question? Hell, Bailey probably had a clearer idea of who he should date than he did.

  Which brought him back to Tess.

  He turned his gaze back to her, finding her expression shadowed. “Everything okay?”

  “Long day,” she said weakly. “I was at the studio all day, now this.”

  He felt his disappointment clear to the pit of his stomach. “So no chance of my talking you into another dance?”

  “Actually, I think I’d rather leave now, unless you want to stay for dessert.” She rallied, flashing him a smile. “But don’t worry. I think we already accomplished our goal in coming here tonight.”

  Nick didn’t answer. He wasn’t sure how to explain that they were no longer working toward the same goal.

  * * *

  I AM HAPPY FOR my friend. I am truly and genuinely happy for my friend. Staring out the passenger window even though it was too dark to see the Texas landscape, Tess grappled with déjà vu. Why did it seem as if lately she’d had to give herself these pep talks often, as if she had to compel herself to be glad for others’ good fortune? Was she becoming bitter and jealous? Just because everyone was pairing up as decisively as the animals boarding Noah’s Ark and she was standing out in the flood with a pair of flippers and a snorkel...

  Get a grip, Fitzpatrick. No one likes a whiner.

  She turned toward Nick, forcing cheer into her voice the same way she’d doggedly forced her hips into those old jeans to go riding. “In case I forgot to say so earlier, I had fun tonight. Did you see the way Farrah was looking at you when we left the dance floor? She wasn’t the only one, either.”

  “That’s...great.”

  Wow, even she had sounded more convincing than that. “What’s wrong? You know I’m serious about Farrah seeming interested, right?”

  “I know. You mean what you say.”

  “And that’s what you wanted, isn’t it? To break the ice, build up to finally asking her out after all these years?” She held her breath, wondering how she’d react if he said no, that he’d been wrong.

  I was a fool, Tess, for thinking I wanted a lissome blonde with parenting experience and a hot car. I’d much rather be with a round redhead who has madly untamed curls and a tendency to act without thinking. Yeah. She could just imagine what her lon
g-suffering patrician mother would have to say about that flight of fancy.

  “Don’t think I’m ungrateful for all the help you’ve given me,” he said a few seconds later. “I’m glad she noticed me. It just occurs to me that liking the way I dance isn’t a basis for anything real. I should be more analytical about this, like you.”

  “Me?”

  “You were very insightful when you talked about the qualities you consider important.”

  Her innate sense of honesty forced her to point out, “Those were traits I came up with spur of the moment. Subconsciously, you probably have a list like that, too. Even if you’ve never itemized it, you have an idea of what’s important to you and who you like.”

  He was quiet as they pulled into her neighborhood. Was he having second thoughts about his feelings for Farrah? Or was he just psyching himself out? After all, he’d had a lot of time to build her up in his mind as his Dream Girl. He’d said himself the first time he spoke with Tess on the phone that Farrah might be aiming too high.

  Tess was surprised when he parked the truck in her driveway, cut the ignition and removed the key. Her heart leaped in her chest as if it were trying to execute a grand jeté. “You’re getting out, too?”

  He hitched a brow, disgruntled by her surprise. “What self-respecting man doesn’t walk his date to the door at the end of the night?”

  It wasn’t a real date. But she couldn’t quite voice the objection because it was difficult to remember which part hadn’t been real. The breathless rush she’d experienced in his arms had certainly been genuine. Her nerves before he came to pick her up, as she’d changed clothes six times and fortified herself with wine, had been one hundred percent sincere. And the way she’d felt tonight whenever she glanced across the table and fell into his gaze...

  There went her heart again, leaping around like a crazed soloist in search of a spotlight.

  Nick opened her door, offering her a hand to climb down from the height of the truck. His fingers rasped against hers, and she inhaled a shaky breath. She quickly drew her hand away on the pretext of fishing her keys from her purse. They walked up the steps together, and she unlocked the door. Should she invite him in for a cup of decaf coffee? Point out that it was a nice evening and ask him to sit on the porch with her, enjoying the song of crickets and the sparkling canvas of stars overhead?

  “Tess?” Despite his velvety tone of voice, she jumped as if she’d heard gunfire.

  She tried to camouflage her reflex by turning the knob and opening the door with more force than required. “Yes?”

  “I think you’re right. Maybe deep down, I do know what I want.”

  “And?” She swallowed.

  As if they were on the dance floor again, he pulled her against him, moving to a song only he could hear. Spearing one hand through her wayward curls, he cupped the back of her head and tilted her face toward his. He captured her mouth in a coaxing kiss that bloomed from gentle to searing in the space of a heartbeat. Heat flooded her body. They explored each other with a frenzied thoroughness. Thought became sensation and movement. His thumb skimmed the edge of her breast through the filmy material of her blouse, jolting a sharp current of need through her.

  He moved his mouth from hers long enough to trace feathery kisses up the curve of her neck. “We shouldn’t be standing in your doorway like this.”

  Right, because she’d hate for the neighbors to see the hottest guy in town crazed with desire over her. She tugged him into the dimly lit interior of her house and had just slammed the door when she found herself pressed between Nick and the wall. One of his firmly muscled legs was between hers, pushing the edge of her skirt upward. Cool air teased her thighs, and she trembled.

  Nick noticed, backing off immediately. He still had one hand curved at the nape of her neck, but he’d put several inches between them when before there’d only been a few thin layers of fabric. “I’m rushing you, aren’t I?”

  No! Except...now that he’d paused long enough for her to get oxygen to her lust-addled brain, she admitted to herself they were rushing. Was she subconsciously hurrying because she knew that, if she stopped to think, she’d come to her senses?

  She exhaled heavily, managing an apologetic half smile. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

  “Damn.” He shoved a hand through his hair, no longer resembling the polished, urbane version of himself who’d shown up here at the beginning of the evening. “I was so hoping you wouldn’t say that.”

  “Me, too,” she admitted. “But it’s true.”

  “Tess, I—”

  She held up a hand, halting his words. “You can call me tomorrow. Or later in the week. We can talk then.” If she didn’t do the sensible and honorable thing by kicking him out now, she might yet lose her head. And no amount of physical bliss tonight would be worth the world of regret and misgivings tomorrow.

  * * *

  STARTING OUT THE EVENING, Nick hadn’t had any idea what to expect. And now that the night had concluded...well, he wasn’t sure what in the hell had just happened. Shifting uncomfortably in the driver’s seat, he tried to ignore the lingering demands of his body and focus on driving safely back to the Galloping C.

  Had he screwed up by kissing Tess? As he’d told his daughter, he and Tess weren’t romantically involved. And only a couple of hours ago, Tess had referred to their date as a “test run.” Instead of adhering to reality, he’d gone with sheer instinct and grabbed her.

  He couldn’t remember the last time he’d blindly followed his instincts with a woman. Ironically, the person he most wanted to turn to for advice now was probably the last one he should ask. Even though only a week had passed since Tess first approached him, he’d quickly fallen into the habit of considering her his romance coach. No, it was more than that. She was a friend.

  No. It was more than that, too.

  When he pulled up to the ranch’s main house, lights spilled from various windows. He could see his brothers and father in the living room. Upstairs, softer light shone from behind the pale green curtains of his parents’ room. Then there was a telltale gleam in the tiny window of the bathroom. If he was seeking guidance, there was no shortage of people inside he could ask. But Nick had always been the most private of the Calhoun brothers. Kevin had been bragging about his exploits since middle school, and while Wyatt wasn’t as obnoxious as their brother, he also didn’t hesitate to kiss a girl—or argue with her—in full view of a crowded bar. The idea of holding his relationship with Tess up for their speculation...

  The familiar creak of the front door heralded his arrival. None of the three Calhoun men seated looked away from the sports highlights on the big-screen television.

  “Your mama just took Little Bit upstairs to brush her teeth,” his father informed him. “There’s beer in the fridge if you want to stay for a few minutes. And leftovers, too. Erin made her famous chicken dumplings.”

  Nick crossed the dark kitchen and filled a glass with cold water. “I had dinner in town. That’s why I needed y’all to babysit, remember?”

  “Oh, right.” Wyatt turned in his recliner. “Big date. How’d it go?”

  Kevin snorted. “How do you think? He’s here with us, isn’t he? If it had gone halfway decent, he’d be doing the mattress mambo with— Who were you with?”

  “None of your damn business,” Nick said matter-of-factly.

  Their father jabbed a finger at Kevin. “Watch your mouth. You know your mama doesn’t
like you talking about the union between man and woman with such disregard.”

  It warmed Nick’s heart to see his towering brother blush like a ten-year-old who’d just been given his first detention. “I’m going upstairs to get Bailey.” His parents had assured him she could spend the night here if need be. Since that was sadly not the case, he might as well take her home where she could sleep in her own bed.

  Bay sat propped against the headboard of his parents’ bed, dressed in a pair of glaringly mismatched pajamas—a pink top printed with neon cowboy boots and green pants, striped in yellow and blue. Amid the boots was a splotch that looked suspiciously like chocolate ice cream. “Daddy! Gramma was about to read me a story. You can listen with us.”

  His mother was less effusive about his presence. “We didn’t expect you this early.”

  He laughed wryly. “Should I leave and come back?”

  “Of course not. It isn’t that I’m unhappy to see you. I guess I just hoped you’d take me up on my offer to let Bailey stay the night. In case you and your friend decided to...have a tea party,” she improvised.

  Nick spluttered, choking on his water. “A tea party?” he wheezed. Was that what they were calling it these days? “Mother, it was a first date! And it wasn’t exactly a date, anyway. Although there were dinner and dancing.”

  “What about a k-i-s-s good-night?” Erin prompted, her eyes twinkling.

  “Mom. Honestly, you’re worse than Kevin.”

  “Don’t be absurd, dear. No one is worse than Kevin. Between his inability to go out with a nice girl twice in a row and Wyatt’s holding pattern with that rodeo woman, you may be my only shot at grandchildren. Poor Bailey wants brothers and sisters. She told me.”