Page 27 of September’s Cowboy Travis

I understood what he was really asking, and it had nothing to do with parking. “Let them.” I held his gaze. “I'm not ashamed of going home with you.”

His jaw tightened. Then his hand came up behind my neck, and he kissed me, hard and quick, before opening the passenger door of his truck.

The drive to his ranch was quiet. Once we left town, his headlights picked out fence posts and pale stretches of grass along the shoulder. Travis drove with one hand on the wheel and the other near the center console, so I put mine over it.

He glanced down, then turned his palm under mine and twined our fingers.

When we got to the ranch, we barely made it through the back door.

Travis turned as soon as it closed, and I reached for him at the same time. His hat landed on the kitchen table as his mouth found mine, and I slid both hands under his shirt.

His skin was warm underneath my palms. The kiss we'd shared earlier had left me wondering exactly what would've happened if he hadn't stopped. Now I didn't have to wonder.

I pushed his shirt from his shoulders. Travis tossed it next to his hat, then caught the hem of my shirt and paused.

“Okay?”

I raised my arms. “You ask me that one more time and I'm going to assume you're stalling.”

His mouth curved as he pulled it over my head. “Not stalling.”

“Good.”

My shirt landed on the floor, and the humor faded from his eyes as he looked at me. His gaze moved slowly, and the attention made me stand straighter instead of wanting to cover myself.

“You're staring.”

“Yeah.”

“Anything useful to contribute?”

His hand curved at my waist. “I’m working on it.”

I laughed, and he kissed me again. Bare skin met bare skin when he pulled me closer. I ran my hands over his chest and found a pale scar near his shoulder.

“Steer wrestling?”

He shook his head. “Run in with a fence.”

Another thin mark crossed his ribs.

“Bar fight?”

“Nah. Just a pissed off horse.”

I looked up. “Your life is ridiculous.”

“I’ve been told that before.”

He didn't wait for me to ask about the next one. His mouth moved down my neck instead, his jaw rough against my skin, and I slid my fingers into his hair when he found a place behind my ear that made my breath catch.

He noticed.

Travis seemed to notice every change in my breathing and every time I moved closer. His confidence came through in every touch, but he never acted like knowing women meant he automatically knew me. That difference mattered.

I tugged at his belt. “Take me upstairs.”

One eyebrow went up. “You’re awfully bossy.”