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Fuck. I like that. A whole damn lot.
The thought hits me like a bullet.
She belongs here.
She belongs withme.
Setting the bag of apples down, Ruby nods at the hat clenched in my hand, her red lips parting. “What’s that?”
“Got you somethin’ in town.” I drop it on her head and suppress a grin. It makes her look like a tiny, sassy cowgirl. “You gonna ride right, you gotta dress right.”
She gasps. “Oh, Charlie,” she says, clasping a hand to her heart, joy a charm on her pretty face. She looks up at the brim, then her gaze meets mine. Tears glitter in her eyes. “Thank you. I love it so much.” The breathless appreciation in her voice lands like an arrow to my heart.
Adjusting the hat, she gives me finger guns, then twirls. The hem of her sundress flutters in the breeze and something hard lodges itself in my throat.
“Well,” she says, propping her hands on her hips. “How do I look?”
Like you’re mine.
“Perfect,” I rasp out. “Cowgirl looks good on you.”
She does a slight one-shouldered shrug and flashes a flirty smile. “Well, see you.”
Oh, hell no.
I snag her wrist before she can turn away. “Hey, where you goin’?”
Her eyes widen with that stunning, earnest innocence I’m used to. “Back to work. I’m slammed, Charlie. Your website needs more copy. Not to mention, I have to finish the calendar before the end of the—”
I kiss her to make her stop talking. No more about her leaving. I can’t handle it.
With my hands on her waist, I sweep my tongue over hers, pressing her tiny form against my chest. She clutches my neck and whimpers into my mouth. My cock aches for her. Our hearts thunder as I consume this woman who has me on the verge of insanity on a daily basis.
Right now, right here, is how I want to stay.
With her.
“Come over,” I tell her when we pull away. I slip a hand into her silky tresses and cup the back of her neck. Need has me by the throat. “Stay the night.”
She laughs, looks at me like I’m crazy. “I’ve already been staying over.”
“Stay the weekend.”
I don’t want her leaving.
She shakes her head, peering up at me beneath long lashes. “Charlie ...”
“Pack a bag,” I order. “Don’t argue with me.”
“When?”
“Now.” I thread my fingers through hers, stopping her from pulling away. “Dinner. Whiskey.”
Surprise crosses her face. “You’re cooking?”
“Damn right.” I chuckle. “Not sure what you’ll get, but I’ll wrangle something.”
“Okay.” Her eyes glimmer in the setting sun. “I have to photoshop some photos for the August posts. Give me an hour.”
