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“No matter the kind of man it takes to leave his child, just know that you’re his baby, and he thinks of you.”
She looked at him for a long moment, then back at the station.
Her silence was the indicator that this was a subject that was closed.
“It looks beautiful inside,” she said.
“You could spend a whole afternoon just going through the station,” he said, giving in to the need to run his palm down her smooth arm. “It’s huge and has a museum. Then you could go next door to get a real pair of jeans.”
She chuckled and turned around in his arms. “I may have to do that because my jeans selection is more designer and less functional. Do they sell these hats in there as well?” she asked, touching the brim of his Stetson.
Damn if Tripp’s breath didn’t hitch. “Yes, ma’am.”
She bit her bottom lip. “Maybe I should try one out before committing. It’s not really my style but…?”
Tripp slipped off his hat and put it on her head. It looked good on her. Too good.
“Be careful, darlin’,” he rumbled. “You know what they say about trying on a man’s Stetson?”
She lifted her eyebrows and asked way too innocently, “You wear the hat, you better be prepared to wear the man?”
Holy shit. “Something like that.”
When she smiled up at him, Tripp couldn’t hold back anymore. He slid his hands into her thick brown hair, nearly knocking the Stetson off her head, and took her lush mouth. She tasted so fucking good, like sweet juniper on a sunny day, he was instantly drunk on her flavor.
Casual…
Casual or not, one taste of this woman and Tripp knew he was in big, big trouble.
…
My God, the man can kiss…
Charlotte was lost, the painful memories that had set her adrift only minutes earlier gone. And damn if she never wanted to find her way back. Tripp pulled her close, his solid arms and gentle fingers playing tricks on her mind, his kisses hard and soft and consuming her in a way she’d never been before. He tasted like whiskey and mint and man, and his jaw scratched against her chin like fine sandpaper in a way that made her whole body buzz.
His tongue delved between her lips, and she drank it down. He led her through the kiss, just like he had on the dance floor. Dominant, but with tenderness. Like a gentleman. She wanted more. Wanted to drown in this strong man who seemed to have so much control. She wanted to tempt that control. For both their sakes.
“Tripp,” she whispered, scraping her front teeth against his lip.
A low growl rumbled from his chest and vibrated against her breasts.
It was enough for him to pull her closer, those strong hands, strong fingers, digging into her lower back. She gasped, the feel of being taken over turning up the heat another fifty degrees. At least.
Desperate for more, she kissed Tripp harder. Grabbed the back of his neck and took the kiss deep, deep, deep. She wanted the heat, the strength. He met her and then some. His hands slid down to her ass and yanked her against him.
“I want you,” she said against his mouth, this time actually biting his bottom lip. He seemed to like that. If he liked roughness, she was more than willing to explore that with him.
“I want you, too,” he growled, and kissed down her neck. Her head tipped back and his hat almost fell off her head. She reached to cup it and keep it on, leaving her open to Tripp’s mouth. He took full advantage, dragging his mouth to the swell of her breasts.
“Need. You. Now,” she said, her body lighting up like a Christmas tree. But it was the middle of summer, middle of town square…and they were 100 percent alone. Just them. The darkness and the glow of the train station.
“You sure?” he said against her throat.
“Very, very sure.”
He kissed her mouth long and deep, then broke away. Grabbed her hand and led her toward the building.
“I parked just behind the train station,” he said.
