Maisey Yates - The Cowboy Way - A Creed in Stone Creek / Part Time Cowboy

Say no, warned her practical side. You know what could happen, and you’re not ready for that.

“Isn’t this a school night?” she asked.

Wow. She was a veritable genius when it came to small talk.

“Matt goes to day camp,” Steven pointed out, after indulging in another of those slow, lethal grins. “Not Harvard.”

“Oh,” Melissa said.

“Are you coming, or not?”

She blushed again. Had he worded the question that way on purpose? “It’s a little soon,” she said.

“For what?” Steven asked, clearly enjoying her discomfort.

“You know damn well for what,” Melissa told him. She’d lost patience with herself by then. All this waffling was so unlike her—she was a direct person.

His blue eyes twinkled with mischief. And the promise of sweet, hot, languid things. “Do I?” he drawled. And then he reached out, took the menu from her hands, and set it aside. Closed his fingers around hers.

“Yes,” Melissa whispered. “You do.”

Just then, Tessa reappeared, pen and order pad in hand. “What’ll it be?” she asked, smiling at both of them.

Steven ordered the club sandwich.

Melissa opted for beef stew, even though it was a warm day.

Still smiling, Tessa nodded and turned away.

“You were saying?” Steven grinned. He hadn’t let go of Melissa’s hand; indeed, he ran the pad of his thumb over her knuckles, very lightly.

Flames shot through her. “I forget.”

“Liar.”

“It’s too soon,” Melissa reiterated. There was something feverish in her tone.

“Are you trying to convince yourself, or me?”

“Steven, stop it.”

Tessa came back with their drinks then—both of them had ordered iced tea.

“You’re okay, aren’t you?” Tessa asked, giving Melissa much closer scrutiny than before. “Somebody at the counter just told me you were almost hit by a car this morning, while you were out for your run.”

Small towns. Every incident, no matter how small, was grist for the mill.

“Just a little shaken up,” Melissa said, aware of the change in Steven’s face even though she wasn’t looking directly at him just then. His grip tightened around her hand. “It was no big deal, Tessa. A miss is as good as a mile and all that.”

“It could have been a very big deal,” Tessa protested. “Did you see a doctor?”

“Tessa,” Melissa said, with a smile and a shake of her head, “I’m fine. Really.”

Tessa hesitated for another moment or so, then turned and walked away.

“You were almost run over by a car?” Steven asked. He was holding both her hands by then. And he no longer looked amused.

People were watching them.

Jumping to all kinds of conclusions.

She could feel it.

“I wasn’t hurt,” she insisted. It bothered her, how much she was enjoying his concern.

“What happened?” Steven asked.

“Nothing,” Melissa answered. “That’s why the word almost comes into play.”

His fine jawline tightened briefly, relaxed again.

“Let’s talk about something else besides accidents that didn’t quite happen,” she suggested, hoping to lighten the mood.

The grin was back, and it was as dangerous as ever. “Like what?”

“Well, not sex,” Melissa said, and then regretted it.

He laughed. “I agree,” he said. “It’s better to just go ahead and do some things, rather than wasting time talking about them.”

Melissa blinked. “Did you just say what I think you just said?” she demanded, whispering again. Leaning toward him.

“You were the one who brought up the subject of sex,” Steven pointed out reasonably. “Not me.”

He looked so damnably comfortable, sitting there, easy in his skin, with his glass of iced tea in front of him and his eyes that indescribable shade of blue-violet.

“Then I’m officially unbringing it up,” Melissa said. “Forget I mentioned sex at all. It was totally inappropriate. A slip of the tongue—”

His grin flashed again.

She blushed even more. “I didn’t mean—”

Mercifully, the food arrived then.

Since her stomach was still doing the circus thing, Melissa was surprised to realize that she was hungry. She picked up her spoon and focused on the delicious beef stew.

“What do you like to do, Melissa?” Steven asked, about midway through the meal. He’d made a pretty good dent in his club sandwich, and pushed away his plate to focus all his attention on her.

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