Emilie Rose - The Cowboy's Baby Bargain

He hated to see the band come back, but he sure was glad the music made it difficult for her to ask her probing questions. The lead singer warbled out a song about a man falling in love and knowing he’d screw it up because he’d done so with every other relationship in his life. Caleb tried to tune it out. It hit a little too close to home. His own relationships tended to be brief because most women didn’t want to play second fiddle to ten thousand acres of dirt and four-legged critters. It was only a matter of time before he missed some so-called important date because one of his animals got itself in trouble.

Brooke closed her lips around a forkful of some chocolate concoction, closed her eyes and moaned softly. He wasn’t a man prone to imagining things, but his mind immediately connected that sweet sound with sex. Would Brooke look that delirious with a man inside her? Would she close her eyes and tilt back her head, baring her throat to her lover’s mouth the way she did now? His gaze traced the slender line of pale skin, finding the pulse beating steadily at the base. His groin throbbed in tandem. He drained his glass of iced tea, hoping the chilled liquid would cool him off.

Brooke swallowed. The pink tip of her tongue appeared and stole a crumb from the corner of her lips. “You should try this. It’s positively sinful.”

Yep, sin was what he was thinking about—her mouth with something besides that fork in it.

“Sweetheart, a man would be a fool to get between you and your chocolate. You go right ahead and finish every last bite.” And torture him to death doing it.

She scooped up a portion and offered it to him. “Try it. I promise you’ve never tasted anything this good.”

Caleb studied her deep green eyes and wondered if she were making a pass. And if he wanted her to be. It didn’t seem likely. There was nothing overtly flirtatious about her, but he was so out of practice he could be missing the obvious.

It was no skin off his knuckles if the lady wanted to go slumming. He decided to test her and himself. It wasn’t like he had anywhere to be tonight. There were worse ways to pass the midnight hours than in the arms of a beautiful woman—especially one only passing through town. No one would be the wiser if they spent a little time together.

He cupped his hand over hers on the fork and guided the dessert toward his mouth without breaking eye contact. The rich flavor exploded on his tongue. He let his gaze drop to her mouth and imagined tasting the chocolate from her tongue instead of her fork.

Brooke’s lips parted on an indrawn breath and her hand trembled within his. When he lifted his gaze to hers again something dark and sultry sparked in her eyes.

His heart—among other things—thudded painfully.

She snatched back the fork, dropped it on the table and looked away. The pulse in her throat fluttered wildly. He didn’t miss the nervous way she wet her lips or perched on the edge of her seat as if she were considering making a run for it.

At least the attraction wasn’t one-sided.

“Are they two-stepping?” She nodded toward the shuffling couple closest to them. Her breathless voice was about the sexiest thing he’d ever heard.

He jerked his gaze away from the way her rapid breathing shifted her silk shirt across her breasts and eyed the couple plastered close enough to tangle belt buckles. “Nope.”

“What do you call it then?”

“Vertical sex.”

Brooke’s pink lips dropped open. She blushed and sat back in her chair. She continued watching the other dancers until the color in her cheeks evened out. “Can we dance now?”

“Now’s as good a time as any.” He hoped he could control himself.

Caleb pulled her onto the floor and into his arms. She was the perfect height to tuck her head beneath his chin if he were so inclined, but her body with its soft, sexy curves, had about as much give as a new fence post. “Loosen up. Two quick steps, two slow steps. Backwards. Slide your feet.”

She grimaced. “You’re just saying that so I won’t step on your toes.”

“Planning to?”

“I hope not.” She glanced up at him, frowned, and then looked back at their feet, concentrating so intently you’d think she was doing brain surgery. The second time her head clipped his chin Caleb decided he’d had enough.

“Brooke, look at me and let me lead. I won’t steer you wrong.”

She did as he asked, but the agony in her face told him she wasn’t enjoying it. She mouthed the count: quick, quick, slow, slow. He shifted his hand from her shoulder to her hip to guide her better. About halfway through the second song she caught the rhythm and cut loose with such a blinding smile that he nearly tripped.

“There you go.”

They circled the room a few times. The more she relaxed, the smaller the gap between them became. He didn’t think it was intentional, but the slide of her thighs against his was driving him slam out of his mind. He cleared his throat. “Had enough?”

“I could do this all night.” He barely heard the softly voiced comment over the band, but he didn’t miss the blissful expression on her face.

There were a few things he’d like to do with Brooke that might take all night. Dancing wasn’t one of them. “Brooke.” He waited until she tipped her head up and locked her gaze with his. “I can’t do this all night.”

Something in his eyes must have clued her in to the trail his thoughts had taken because she stumbled against him and met the tangible proof of his statement. Her eyes widened then something flared in their depths. She stopped in the middle of the floor, causing other dancers to fork around them.

“I—I wasn’t trying to lead you on. I mean…Oh my—This is crazy. I’ve never…I don’t even know you and I want—” She tucked her chin and mashed her lips together.

“What is it you want, Brooke?” His blood headed south and his throat closed up. He could barely get the words out.

“Nothing. Never mind. Let’s just finish the song and then we can—” Adorably flustered, she pulled him back into the line of dancers, leading again. He let her because his mind was…elsewhere.

She had to be close to his age, but she still blushed, for crying out loud. Something inside him softened. If she’d been the man-eater he’d originally taken her for back at the bar he’d have probably pushed her away. He’d had enough aggressive women to last him three lifetimes. But this vulnerable, shy side of Brooke reeled him in and turned him on.

He stopped beside their table and bent his head to whisper in her ear. “Know what I want? I want to see if you taste as sweet as that dessert.”

The shocked look on her face made him wonder if he’d have to resuscitate her.

Brooke dropped into her chair. Her legs would no longer support her. She’d thought learning the two-step would help her fit into her new home state. Instead dancing left her with a hunger for the taste of another Texas product—the handsome, slow-talking, rough-around-the-edges cowboy across the table.

Hadn’t she already done enough bad things to her body tonight by sampling the double chocolate raspberry mousse cake and drinking that vile beer? She didn’t need to add a one-night stand to her list of sins.

A one-night stand. The idea rippled through her like waves on a pond. She’d never had one—and of course she wouldn’t tonight—but dear heavens, he tempted her. Her hands shook when she blotted her face with her napkin. She sipped her water and sucked an ice cube in an effort to cool down. Why had ovulating never affected her this way before? Parts of her tingled like they’d never tingled before. She’d heard of the call of the wild, but she’d certainly never experienced it firsthand. Until now.