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“For?”
“For being a drunken fool and showing my ass. Literally.”
Her cheeks went blistering red. He grinned and watched her shift her weight from one foot to the other before gathering her hair and lifting it from her neck.
“You don’t have to stand in the heat, Morning Dove. I’m not going to bite you. Well, not unless you ask me to.”
More blushing was followed by her rolling her eyes, but she stepped into the shade of the tree and sat down beside him. They said nothing for a long while. Just sat there watching the horses and listening to the sound of the water in the creek burble over the rocks. She was the first to speak, turning her head to look at him before saying, “Why do you do it?”
“Why do I do what?”
“Stay in the saloon so much.”
Now it was his turn to blush. Heat crawled up his neck to land on his face. He grabbed a long piece of grass before putting the end in his mouth. “I don’t know. I’ve been going in there since I was old enough to earn my own money. It was what all the other cowboys out at the ranch did on payday, so, like most kids, I did it too.
“Now, I suppose it's loneliness that carries me in there most days. Since Betsey married Aaron and moved out, the house is quiet and some days it just gets to me.” He shrugged and looked out toward the road. “I know that’s not much of an excuse but I don’t feel quite so alone when I’m there.”
He pulled another long piece of grass from the ground and rolled it between his fingers. “It's a bit ironic, if you think about it.” He laughed and tossed the grass away. “I hated my father growing up. I can’t tell you how many times me and Betsey had to hitch the horse to our broken-down wagon and go to town to drag his worthless ass back home. And here I am doing the same thing, except no one has ever bothered to help me home before.”
He sighed and took his hat off again before running his fingers through his hair. Morning Dove seeing him face down in the dirt like that, would eat away at him forever. Betsey saying he had a drinking problem was one thing. Morning Dove seeing him at his worst, was another. At the time, he’d been too drunk to be embarrassed. Now he wasn’t.
“I don’t know if I thanked you for helping me home last night or not.”
“You do not have to thank me.”
“You didn’t have to drag me out of the street and help me into bed either, but you did.” He grinned while remembering her doing so. “Although, the prospect of stealing another kiss from you makes me want to have a repeat of the entire night on the regular.” He grinned. “Unless of course you’re willing to kiss me when I’m sober.”
Chapter Seven
Morning Dove woke wondering if Ben had been too drunk to remember kissing her.
Apparently not.
His words hung in the air, the implications behind them ringing through her head. She had a hard time reading Ben’s face. She could not tell when he was being serious and when he was not, but in that moment all it took was a glance into his eyes to know he meant every word of what he said.
When he glanced down at her mouth, she knew he was thinking about kissing her again. The idea made a warm shiver race up her spine.
Kissing Ben Atwater was no burden. Until the night in the barn, she had hated the thought of kissing. Had recoiled every time Walter had tried, and was nauseated whenever he succeeded. That was not the case with Ben.
The first kiss they shared in the barn had been brief and sweet. The one from the night before had left her breathless and made heat pool between her legs, something that had never happened once in her entire life. Had he not passed out, she was not so sure she would not have given in and stayed like he had asked her to do.
He was still staring at her and if she did not know any better, she would say he was sitting closer to her than he had been. His head was tilted to one side, his mouth outlined by the scruff of whiskers he had not bothered to shave off his chin, and the longer she sat there, the faster her heart raced.
She licked her lips and tried to keep her voice steady. “Why would you want to kiss me?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” He reached out and pushed her hair over her shoulder and away from her face. “I like you. I have since the moment I saw you and when I’m not near you, all I do is think about you.” Ben ran the back of one finger over her cheek. “I think about touching you. Kissing you.” He blew out a breath and leaned closer. “You take my breath away, Morning Dove, and that’s not the ramblings of the drunken fool you helped home last night. I’m as sober as a judge today.”
His thumb brushed her cheek, the intense look in his eyes heating.
And he wanted to kiss her again?
Ben leaned forward and was so close she could feel his breath on her face. “Can I?”
She swallowed the lump forming in her throat. “Can you what?”
He grinned and looked at her mouth. “Kiss you?”
She had spent weeks being infatuated with him, ignoring him every time she saw him in hopes he would not find out how much she liked him. She did not know how love worked. Nor how proper relationships functioned. Fear of making a fool of herself made her hide behind sly glances while wondering if she would ever be bold enough to be friends with him. He said they were, that dark morning in Betsey’s kitchen.
