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Chapter Two
He started back to the office door and true enough he did THE walk.
Rough, tough, and rugged. A true cowboy with swagger. Marshall’s broad hulking body and height matched the Duke’s inch for inch. Her mouth fell open seconds before she cupped a hand over her mouth. “You nailed it!” Juniper clapped and rolled to the side with laughter.
“Fear is just one of the many words I don’t know the meaning of, ma’am.” He tipped the front of his hat a fraction and her heart hit the floor in a beating puddle of mush. Sensations whirled like a mix of fire and ice inside her. Cold one second but blazing hot the next. Her heart quivered so much she couldn’t tell if the building shifted or if she did from the force.
She was done. Suddenly her laughs melted away the longer he stood over her with that heart-warming, breath-stilling smile.
He gestured for her to take his hand. She did. Warm, callused, and strong wrapped around hers.
Those butterflies her sister always talked about fluttered to life in her chest.
Warm lips pressed against the back of her knuckles. First the right then left.
“How was that, sweetheart? Did that win me a few brownie points? A bride, maybe?” His voice pitched low with a roughened edge to it. She’d say he felt the shift in the room as much as she had with how his gaze penetrated her as though he wanted to reach her soul.
His warm breath brushed the backs of her knuckles as he spoke and kicked the butterflies into high octane mode.
He could have anything he wanted from her.
“You’re good, Blackwood. Real good. I’ll give you that. I bet you practiced in front of a mirror growing up.” She tried for strong and nonchalant, but her voice came out wobbly.
Marshall gestured to the couch and she joined him. He reclaimed his coffee and she followed suit the second he loosened his hold on her hands.
“It’s every little boy’s dream to be a cowboy. Only I didn’t want to be any cowboy—I wanted to be John Wayne. There for a couple of years, I worked hard to convince everyone in my family I was the Duke reincarnate.”
She chuckled over the rim of her mug. “Oh yeah, how’d that go?”
“Well, since we raised horses when I was younger my mom said I should work like him too and assigned me extra chores.”
“How old were you?”
“I was the ripe old age of six. Till this day my family still ribs me on it.” He angled sideways and rested his arm on the back of the couch. Like this, she could appreciate his angular jawline and the light scruff. One of her weaknesses, she’d admit.
“Now, I believe you said something about marrying anyone that could pull off a John Wayne.”
She clicked her tongue with a light laugh. “That was a trap, but yeah I did. I did say that. Now, I think it’s my turn,” she rushed on to the raise of his eyebrows. “I don’t think I can top that with just items on a list.”
“Try.”
“A man who can two-step and tango. And a man who can work my body like it’s a Ferrari. There. You got a double from me.”
For a brief moment, he stared at her, his fingers playing with a loose strand of her hair. He leaned in, “I think we both know which one of those rules I owned like a boss.”
He brought his lips to hers in a slow, tender kiss.
“Touché cowboy,” she whispered against his mouth before he pulled back.
“BlackCo has kept me busy and my family depends on me being here most of the time.” He abandoned his mug once more. “But that said, I do know my way around a dance floor.”
Marshall drew to his full height and came to stand in front of her, offering his hand.
“May I have this dance?”
She didn’t hesitate when reaching for his hand. “Why yes, yes you may.” She curtsied, enjoying the small role play.
She followed him across the office and in record time he had country tunes filtering through the space. If anyone dared a peek at them, she feared what they would think. Then again, she was technically his betrothed.
