Kara Lennox - The Forgotten Cowboy

Her partner had maneuvered her away from the main crowd on the floor, Willow realized. Spinning slowly through the song’s smoky tendrils, they’d angled toward some ivy-festooned, papier-mâché Roman columns, then into a shadowy alcove. And there, behind a screen of ivy leaves, he kissed her.

It was an amazing kiss, Willow thought dazedly as she sank into it, her bones turning to mush. Amazing as the kiss was, it was even more astonishing that she let him kiss her. She didn’t offer even a token protest as his warm mouth closed over hers, tentatively at first, probably prepared for an objection. And when none came, his kiss became more sure as he took control of her mouth, as well as all her senses.

She’d never been kissed like this, as if the man were pouring his entire soul into one embrace. If his kiss was this intoxicating, what might it be like to actually—

She shut down that line of thought and dived headfirst into the kiss, living in the moment. That was something else she wasn’t very good at. She was always thinking forward, planning ahead, worrying about all contingencies. But for this moment, she didn’t worry. And it felt pretty darn good to just shed everything but the feel of the man’s arms around her, his hands in her hair, and his amazing mouth caressing hers with such strength and gentleness at the same time, playing her the way a master musician would play even a run-of-the-mill violin and make it sing.

His curious fingers found the stitched cut on the side of her head, which she’d artfully hidden by combing her hair just right. She took his hand and pulled it away from her injury, suddenly self-conscious about it.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “You’re probably still tender there.”

“It’s not that. I just don’t want you to know all my secrets.” She rubbed her cheek against the slight roughness of his. “I worked hard to hide those stitches.”

He slid his hand under her heavy hair around to the nape of her neck. “I want to know all your secrets.”

Now she was getting embarrassed. She could feel her face flushing. This was all so…not like her. She didn’t kiss strange men in public places.

“All I could think about, all night long, was kissing you,” he tried again. “I know it’s probably too much, too fast, but—”

She took his face between her hands, stood on her toes and kissed him again. She didn’t want to talk yet. She didn’t want mere words to pull her back into the real world.

He groaned low in his throat, wrapped his arms around her, as if sheltering her from prying eyes, and deepened the kiss for a few precious seconds before abruptly ending it.

He was breathing hard. Seemingly with some effort, he set her away from him. “Damn, darlin’, that’s some potent kiss you got there.”

“Likewise.” Willow wasn’t a hundred percent in control of herself, even now when she wasn’t wrapped in his arms.

“If we weren’t here in the middle of the VFW hall—”

Willow covered her face. “Don’t say it.” Though it was true and she knew it. If they were in private, he wouldn’t stop at a kiss. And she wouldn’t want him to.

Her brain injury must have been more extensive than she thought. She was completely insane, certifiably!

“Sorry.” He brushed a strand of hair from her cheek, tucked it behind her ear. “I didn’t mean to overwhelm you. It’s just that I’ve pictured this moment for such a long time—”

“You have?”

“I think about you a lot. Probably too much to be good for me.”

Willow would have loved to be able to tell him she’d thought about him, too, that she’d noticed him, that she’d hoped he would ask her out or that she might be brave enough to ask him out.

But she hadn’t thought about any guy in that way for a long time. Not since her sophomore year at University of Texas, when she’d finally been out from under her parents’ control for the first time ever—and away from curious, small-town eyes. She’d gone a little bit wild, dating a whole slew of guys in some misguided effort to wipe memories of Cal Chandler out of her mind.

She’d been intrigued with some of them, and she’d tried her best to transform mild interest into wild attraction. But she’d never wanted any of them enough to sleep with them. Cal was the only one she’d ever loved enough to risk sex with, and look what a disaster that had turned into.

Then her class work had become more demanding, and she’d given up on guys altogether—with some relief. She was glad to not have to worry about sex anymore.

“This isn’t how I wanted to start things with us, Willow.”

She raised her eyebrows. “How did you want to start?”

“With a date. A nice, normal date. Could we do that? Could we start over?”

There were a zillion reasons for her to say no, starting with the fact she didn’t know who he was. She had to get ready for her move to Dallas. She had to unscramble her brains.

But there was one, overriding reason to say yes. That kiss. She’d never experienced anything like it. Not even Cal’s kisses, much as she’d loved him, had made her want to rip off her clothes and offer herself like some pagan sacrifice. What if this was the sort of chemistry that happened only once in a lifetime? Could she just walk away from that?

“I’m moving to Dallas in five weeks,” she said. “You do understand that, right?”

“Willow. You don’t always have to think about what happens five weeks from now. Or even one week from now. How about just thinking through tomorrow? Going out to dinner with me. Just a simple date.”

Well, when he put it that way… “Okay,” she heard herself saying.

“I’ll pick you up at your grandmother’s at seven. We’ll go to the Party Barge.”

“Sounds fun.” Willow suppressed the giddy laughter that threatened. The Party Barge. It was a big barge that cruised Town Lake on weekends. Patrons dressed up, ate prime rib and danced to live big-band music. When she’d been in high school, she and Cal had talked about going there for her twenty-first birthday, when she could legally order a cocktail. It had seemed an impossibly sophisticated and expensive evening out for a couple of dreamy kids.

Well, her twenty-first birthday had come and gone a long time ago, and she’d never been to the Party Barge.

Suddenly, Willow realized she was standing behind the ivy curtain all alone. Her mystery man had vanished while she’d been momentarily lost in her adolescent fantasy. That’s what she got for thinking about Cal when she’d had a flesh-and-blood man within reach.

She checked to be sure her clothes were in order—that she’d ripped them off only in her imagination—then slipped out of the sheltered alcove. No one seemed to be paying her any mind, thank heavens. She made a beeline for the bathroom, where she straightened her hair and wiped off her smeared lipstick. Her face was still flushed, her eyes a little brighter than usual, but probably no one would notice that.

Suddenly, her fatigue caught up with her again. She’d definitely overdone it today. This was her first real outing since coming home from the hospital. The surge of adrenaline brought on by the dance and kiss had dwindled, leaving her feeling a bit washed-out.

She would find Nana and go home, where she could sit quietly and think about her date tomorrow. She was pretty sure that was all she would be able to think about.

Nana was sitting at their table, fanning herself with a paper fan she kept folded in her purse. She looked up when Willow approached.

“Oh, there you are. I wondered where you’d got to. Are you about ready to go?”

“I was just going to ask you the same thing.” Willow picked up her purse and tucked her cheat sheet index cards inside. She would throw them away when she got home. Once everyone changed clothes, they would be useless and she would have to start over.