The Cowboy's Valentine

by Donna Alward

  “I do know. It’s how you protect yourself from being vulnerable.”

  “And then I feel guilty when I...when we...”

  He didn’t finish the sentences, but it just took gazing into his eyes to understand the rest of the words. This would be so much easier if she didn’t find him so irresistible...

  She tried being flippant to lighten the mood. “Hey, are you admitting you like me, Quinn?” She sent him a dazzling smile.

  But he didn’t smile in return, just took her hand in his and squeezed her fingers. “More than is good for either of us, Lacey. And I’ll be damned if I know what to do about it.”

  They stood there, in a little bubble of intimacy, oblivious to the people milling about. She squeezed his fingers back. “You could always ask me to dance.”

  A ghost of a smile flirted with his lips. “Miss Duggan, may I have this dance?” He rubbed his thumb along the side of her hand and a shot of pure electricity zipped up her arm.

  “Of course,” she answered. After all, what could happen on a crowded dance floor? It had to be safer than being cozied up here in the corner.

  Quinn put his bottle on a nearby table and led her to the floor. Just as they arrived, the current song ended and they waited for the next one. When the opening measures began, Lacey began to laugh. “Oh, my. Are you up for this?”

  The singer was doing a respectable imitation of Alan Jackson’s voice in “I Don’t Even Know Your Name” and couples paired up for a polka.

  “Are you kidding? I was born doing a polka.”

  “Your poor mother.”

  He raised his arms in the correct posture. “Chicken?”

  She laughed at the impish look on his face. He was so easy to like when he let go of the chip on his shoulder. “Not even a little bit.” She stepped up and put her hand in his and her other on his shoulder. Before she could even catch a breath, he whirled her into the dance.

  He was smooth. And he knew how to lead, too, sweeping her into the steps with surprising ease. It had been a long time since she’d danced like this and she felt a little rusty, but once they’d negotiated the floor in a full circle, she started to relax and get into the rhythm a little more. Quinn could tell, too, because he guided her into a spin that stole her breath and would have had her laughing if she hadn’t had to shift into the steps right away.

  She looked into his face and saw him grinning from ear to ear, his eyes twinkling at her as he spun her in a turn so quick she wasn’t sure her feet even touched the floor. They were good together, dammit. So good that she just stopped thinking and threw herself into the dance with a carefree abandon she’d forgotten she possessed.

  When the song ended, they were both winded and laughing and clapping for the band, and Lacey noticed that several faces were turned towards them and smiling. “That was so fun!” she exclaimed, pressing her hand to her chest. “Oh, my gosh. I haven’t danced like that in years! Who knew you had it in you, Solomon?”

  Whether it was the beer or the dance talking, she didn’t know, but she got a little thrill when he winked at her and said, “You haven’t seen all my moves yet.”

  Lord help her, she wanted to. They’d been doing this on-again-off-again thing for weeks now. She suspected it was because they both tended to overthink. To overfeel. It was hard to do that when you were galloping across a dance floor.

  The next song was a line dance and Lacey laughed and pulled her hair up into a ponytail to help cool her neck. Quinn waggled his eyebrows as everyone lined up for a tush push and the band launched right into the fast-paced “Trouble.” The steps were quick and light and Lacey was treated to a fabulous view of Quinn’s backside as he wiggled it from side to side midway through the sequence. There were whoops and hollers from the crowd and clapping from the sidelines as the lines of dancers stomped their way through the song. When had she last had this much fun? When had she allowed herself to cut loose and just enjoy something? She pivoted, did the three-step and clapped, and laughed from the sheer joy of it. Quinn looked over and grinned at her and she felt a strange sensation that in this moment, right now, she was exactly where she was meant to be.

  With a final stomp the dance was over and the singer took a quick few moments to grab his water bottle. Quinn took Lacey’s hand and led her from the floor straight to the bar, where they both ordered a water to help cool them down.

  “Oh, Quinn! That was so fun. You’re a great dancer.”

  “I haven’t done that since...” His face clouded, but only for a moment. “Never mind how long. Thank you, Lacey.”

  “Anytime. I’m a bit rusty but funny how it all comes back to you.”

  “Tell me about it.” His gaze met hers and she wondered what else they were rusty at—and if it would come back just as quickly as the dance steps.

  She shouldn’t be thinking that way.

  The next song was a waltz. As soon as the opening bars started, Carrie and Duke, Kailey and Rylan, and most of the other couples moved to the crowded floor. Lacey looked at them with longing, but honestly the dance area was so jammed full of couples there wasn’t much room to dance properly.

  “Popular dance on Valentine’s Day,” he said, not looking at her.

  “Seems like it.”

  He was quiet for a few seconds and then he asked, “Do you have a coat? I could use a cooldown. The water didn’t quite cut it.”

  Butterflies began to flutter in her stomach. “I do. It’s in the office.”

  “You want to get some fresh air?”

  She nodded, feeling words strangle in her throat. “I’ll just be a second.”

  The office was quieter, the sounds muffled through the thick walls, and Lacey took a moment to breathe deeply and consider what she was doing. Maybe it was all innocent. Maybe Quinn really did just want to cool off.

  Maybe it was something more.

  Or maybe she just wanted it to be.

  Chapter Eleven

  The air was crisp and cool outside the Silver Dollar, and Quinn and Lacey weren’t the only ones to go outside. A few other couples left and a handful were outside taking a smoke break and chatting. Quinn took Lacey’s hand in his and led her away from the entrance, around to the side of the log building, where it was quieter and more private.

  At this point she didn’t need to dance; her stomach was doing enough of a jig all on its own.

  He let go of her fingers and put his hands in the pockets of his jacket, lifting his face to the sky. “It’s a nice night. Not too cold. Clear.”

  Indeed, the sky was inky black, with the pinpoint dots of the stars winking down on them.

  “In the city, sometimes the streetlights affect the visibility. I love the sky out here. It goes on forever.” She let out a contented sigh.

  “You hated it when you first arrived.”

  “I didn’t hate it.” She looked over at him. “I resented it. Big difference.”

  He smiled a little. “You don’t like to be told what to do, do you?”

  She smiled back. “What was your first clue?” She gazed up at the constellations. “It isn’t just being told what to do. It’s feeling like, I don’t know, like I’m being shoehorned into something. Like I don’t have a choice.”

  “You have choices, Lacey. Lots and lots of choices.”

  Didn’t she just. And one was figuring out how exactly to proceed with the man beside her. Did she want to risk it? Or just back off? She’d probably get hurt in the end. There could never be anything serious between them, anyway. He’d made that abundantly clear.

  “Does this mean we’re going to stop fighting now, Quinn? It gets exhausting, treading on eggshells around you.”

  “I’d like to stop fighting. You make it difficult.”

  “I don’t mean to be bitchy...”

  “Not tha
t, Lacey. That’s not what I meant.”

  He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him. The door to the bar closed and all was silent in the parking lot, except for the muffled sound of the second waltz in the set. His face loomed above hers, shadowed in the darkness away from the lights of the entrance, and she could see the little puffs of his breath in the air.

  She rather thought he might kiss her, but instead he slid his hand down her arm to clasp her fingers and put his other hand at the small of her back, drawing her close.

  Oh, Lord. Quinn Solomon was a romantic. He had to be, because he was dancing with her in slow, narrow steps, beneath a winter moon.

  It was impossible not to get caught up in the moment. She noticed everything about him—the way he smelled, how his cologne was magnified by the heat of his body after the fast dances, the roughness of his palm as it pressed against hers, the size of his body as it moved against her smaller one. With a little jolt of surprise, she realized that he’d put on weight over the past few weeks, lost that gaunt, lean look she’d noticed when he’d first arrived. A little sliver of female satisfaction warmed her, as she wondered if it was due to her home cooking. Maybe Quinn was right after all. She was a nurturer at heart. Liked to take care of people. Liked to take care of him.

  She was treading into dangerous territory.

  They were so close now that their coats were pressed together and his jaw grazed her temple, a stubbled caress that fuelled the fire of her desire for him. If their first kiss was anything to go by, Quinn had a lot of passion inside. Wrong or right, wise or foolish, she wanted to be the one to unleash it. She lifted her chin just a little, rubbing against him, a little nudge of invitation.

  He nudged back, a silent acknowledgment, acceptance, and they embarked on a dance of anticipation so sweet that she held her breath, waiting for the moment when he’d finally give in and kiss her.

  The tip of his nose was cold but his lips were warm when they finally descended on hers. Their feet stopped moving to the music, and Lacey lifted her arms, wrapping them around his neck to hold him close.

  He did his part in that regard, his strong hand pressing on the curve of her bottom, an impassioned sound rippling up from his throat and sliding through her like an aphrodisiac.

  Quinn, she thought. Oh, Quinn.

  He put his other arm around her and lifted her up as if she weighed nothing at all, then walked forward until they were up against the rough logs of the saloon. With the wall behind her, he was able to press against her body and have his hands free. He put them on either side of her face and kissed her again and again until her knees went weak and she nearly forgot where they were.

  The door to the saloon slammed and Lacey realized that things had gotten a little out of control when their bodies froze. It had been more than kissing—it was full-on making out. Quinn had been rubbing against her rhythmically, one hand had undone the buttons of her coat and he was cupping her breast through the thin fabric of her dress.

  Thankfully Quinn shifted so that his body sheltered her from the view of the people leaving the bar.

  “Jeez, get a room,” one of them jeered, laughing, and she looked up at him. His eyes were nearly black in the darkness, but there was something else there, too. Agreement.

  They had a whole big house to themselves tonight. All it would take was a ten-minute drive and they’d be free to do whatever they wanted.

  She gulped, wanting it so badly she ached. She was terrified, too.

  “It’s up to you,” he murmured, running one finger down her cheek in a soft caress. “I don’t want to stop here. But I understand if you do...”

  “You’re sure?” she asked, her words a breathy sigh.

  “You drive me crazy,” he replied. “So damn crazy, Lace. You have for weeks. I gotta do something about that or I’m going to explode.”

  Nothing he might have said would have been better for her female ego than that. A saucy grin tilted her lips as she took the leap. “Me, too. I don’t want to think. I don’t want to worry. I just want to touch you, Quinn. Really touch you without wondering if we’re going to get caught.”

  He chuckled, a sexy, soft sound. “Darlin’, getting caught is half the fun, don’t you know that?”

  “Take me home, Quinn.”

  With one last searing look, he backed away, grabbed her hand, and led her to his truck.

  * * *

  BECAUSE HE’D BEEN a little free with the beer, he handed Lacey the keys. It didn’t seem super romantic or manly, but he hadn’t abandoned all sense. She’d just adjusted the seat and started the engine when he spied another couple preparing to leave: Kailey and Rylan. Rylan was putting the saddle in the back and Kailey was hopping into the cab. As Lacey put the truck in gear, Quinn’s phone buzzed.

  I don’t need a drive. You have a good night.

  Kailey must have noticed their disappearance, but he found he didn’t really care. Everything he did had been catalogued by this town. Just this once he wanted to do something impulsive and crazy without the worry of how it looked or what was appropriate. Didn’t he deserve that? Hadn’t he been through enough? For one night, he wanted to know what it was to live again rather than just go through the motions.

  “Text message?” Lacey asked, turning on the blinker for the main road.

  “Kailey. She left with your brother.”

  She spared him a quick glance and then put her attention back on the road. “It’s Valentine’s Day, Quinn. Romance is in the air.”

  “So it is.”

  “She’s a big girl.”

  “Yep.”

  “Quinn?”

  “What?”

  “Why does this drive seem so long?”

  The simple question had him questioning his sanity, because it made him want to pull the truck over to the side of the road and end the wait to take her in his arms. He clenched his fingers into fists.

  The drive seemed to take forever and yet, somehow, only a few minutes and they were back at the house. There was a moment of hesitation when she cut the engine and they sat in the silence. Maybe she’d changed her mind. Maybe he should. He didn’t want to give her false hope for the future. He couldn’t honestly think beyond tonight. Beyond this moment.

  But his thoughts were interrupted by Lacey, sliding across the seat, running her hand through his hair. That was all it took for him to pick up exactly where they’d left off, pressed up against the cold side of the Silver Dollar. His mouth fused to hers as he pulled her into his lap, the feel of her body warm against his.

  “Let’s get inside,” he suggested, taking a precious moment away from her lips. Blindly, he undid his seat belt and opened the door, then miraculously got them both out of the vehicle without too much fumbling. Quinn slammed the door and then picked Lacey up in his arms, heading for the house with long, purposeful strides.

  “Quinn,” she whispered against his neck, and the soft awe he heard in her voice made him feel about ten feet tall. He’d never been one for big romantic gestures, but damn, it had been a long dry spell.

  Unlocking the door proved slightly tricky, but within moments they were in the foyer. Quinn put her down on the stair steps and knelt before her to take off her boots, his hand sliding down the smooth expanse of her calf. He removed his own footwear, slid off his jacket, took her coat and finally, finally met her gaze.

  Her eyes glowed with heat and longing and his body responded. He hadn’t wanted a woman like this in months. Not since...no. Dammit, he wouldn’t think of that tonight. Tonight, the weight of the past would stay in the past. There was a beautiful woman in front of him, as eager for him as he was for her. He reached behind her and pulled the elastic from her hair, freeing the ponytail so that the copper waves fell about her shoulders. God, he loved her hair.

  “Lacey.” Her name was a l
ow rumble in the quiet, dark house. “Are you sure?”

  She stood up, standing on the bottom step, which put them eye to eye. Her hand rested against the side of his face. “All the times we argued and fought...that’s passion, Quinn. I don’t want to fight it anymore. I want to put it to better use. I want you to make love to me.”

  He took her upstairs to her room, to the master bedroom with its four-poster and thick mattress and soft-as-feathers duvet. Gazes locked, they undressed each other, no shyness, no false modesty. She was so beautiful, all creamy skin and slender limbs and that glorious mane of hair. When he took off his shirt, her fingers grazed his abdomen. “Oh,” she said, biting down on her lip. Knowing she approved only fired his desire further.

  They took their time, touching, kissing, caressing, until he couldn’t wait any longer. “Do we need to take precautions?” he asked, hoping to God she was on the pill because he hadn’t bought a condom in years.

  Her startled gaze clashed with his, and then slid away. “No,” she replied softly. “I’m good.”

  “Good?” Something didn’t feel quite right about her response. He didn’t want to kill the mood but he needed to be sure, too. He wanted to protect her. Protect both of them.

  “I’m safe,” she answered. “No worries there, Quinn. I promise.”

  Lacey was a lot of things, but she wasn’t a liar and she wasn’t manipulative. If she said they were safe, he trusted her.

  As the February moon shone through the window, he let his gaze travel down the length of her lissome body once more. Then he closed his eyes and made her his, losing himself completely to pleasure.

  * * *

  VALENTINE’S DAY.

  Lacey lay perfectly still in the bed, staring at the ceiling as dawn slowly broke. Beside her, Quinn lay on his side, his back to her, his breathing deep and even.

  She had slept with her roommate, with the one man who drove her absolutely bananas, on Valentine’s Day, that horrible, wonderful day that happened each year and made people crazy. This was a real first. And now she was wondering how to proceed. Should she try to extricate herself from the bed quietly, without waking him? She was stark naked under the soft sheets, but her robe was hanging on the back of the bathroom door. If she could reach it, she could at least cover herself...