She tilted my chin up, forcing me to meet her gaze. Resolve and determination blazed in the depths. “You got nothin’ to be sorry for. If this is too much we can stop.”
I shook my head, my grip on her tightening a bit. “You want to dance, though.”
She shrugged, her tone light as she replied, “But you don’t want to.”
It was my turn to shrug. “I don’t wanna do a lot of things.”
She laughed, the sound a lilting melody that rose over the song. “Well, whatdoyou like to do then?” she asked, still dancing slowly to the beat.
I moved with her, settling my hands back in their proper position. “I like whittlin’—you know, woodcarvin’. And um…well, I like workin’ with the horses and keepin’ my hands busy. I like to build things. Work on cars. Fish. Cook. Every now and then, I’ll pick on a guitar.”
She grinned. “And you said you’re no fun.”
I huffed a low laugh, more of the tension leaving me as I focused on her and her melodic voice. Her calming touch. “I ain’t.”
She rolled her eyes, trying and failing to hide a smile. “You’re an idiot.”
“What about you? What do you like to do?”
Her face turned contemplative a moment, her brow furrowing together. “Hm…well, I love craftin’…even if I gotta do it for work. But makin’ candles, wreaths, essential oil blends, t-shirts, knittin’ blankets…I love it all. And then there’s always rodeoin’ and ridin’. I mean, it’s been a minute since I’ve ridden for pleasure, but who doesn’t love a good trail ride?” She bit her lip a moment before a soft, almost shy smile tugged on her mouth. I’d never expect to see that look on her face. “Sometimes, when I have a minute, I like to read.”
I scoffed. “You read?”
That smile dipped into a scowl, her gaze hardening. “Um…rude. Are you callin’ me illiterate?”
I chuckled, pulling her a little tighter to me. “Nah, I ain’t sayin’ that at all. Just surprised. You don’t seem like the type to want to sit and read.”
Her scrutinizing gaze held me in place as she said, “Well, Iloveto read.”
“What kinda books?”
The song ended. Something a bit faster picked up, and I surprised the hell out of myself by speeding up my pace, all while still keeping her firmly in my grip. It was like if I let go of her, she might disappear altogether. What if we stopped dancing and she lost interest? As much as I hated dancing, I didn’t want this moment to end.
Her cheeks flushed slightly, but her gaze, her words, blazed with confidence. “Mostly fantasy romance.”
My brow scrunched up. “Is that like…Lord of the Rings with porn in it?”
Laughter bubbled out of her; she curled in on herself nearly stumbling in my arms. “Oh my God, no! Think fairy tales but with spice.”
“What the hell is spice?” It was like she spoke a different language.
I don’t think I remembered the last time I’d picked up a book for pleasure. Maybe never? Sitting down, doing nothing but turning pages seemed counterproductive to me. I needed to be doing something, using my hands.
She rolled her eyes, a giggle escaping her. “Ugh, you know nothin’, Jon Snow. And as for spice, it’s like…how much smut’s in a book.”
My brows furrowed together. “Smut?”
Another flush of her cheeks as a coy smile tugged her lips upward. “Basically, how much romance a book has. You know…like sexy scenes.”
“So, itisporn.”
“It isnotporn.” She smacked my chest playfully, a huff of laughter escaping her.
“Sounds like it.” I couldn’t help but smirk.
“Well, it ain’t,” she replied, her mouth drawing up into a playful snarl.
I spun her, my body instantly missing her warmth, even if only a moment later I was pulling her back into my arms. “I think you’re gonna have to prove it.”
