She never stops laughing.
She never stops smiling.
If Lily hadn’t told me that, or Blair hadn’t told me a little about her life back in the city, I would never believe the shit she’s been through.
Right now, she lights up the dark bar.
And it’s not just the vibrant colors of her outfit.
My eyes trail her body, the same way I did when she first walked in. Her hips sway and I want my hands on them more than my next breath. I want my hands on every single part of exposed skin I see.
I’m suddenly finding it difficult to catch a breath, becauseshehas taken it from me.
Staring at her right now…
Blair fucking looks likemine.
CHAPTER 23
THIS WOULD PROBABLY TASTE WAY BETTER ON YOU.
Blair
“Are you gonna sing a song?” Nan asks me while we dance.
I shake my head. “Oh no. I don’t need to embarrass myself.”
She waves a hand. “Nonsense. You can’t embarrass yourself here, girl. This is a place for us to be ourselves. Fun and full of life,” she says with her hands in the air as she closes her eyes and moves with the music.
This woman never ceases to surprise me.
She slows her dancing. “I’m goin’ up there. What should I sing?” she asks me.
My eyes widen. “Oh, I am not good at picking out songs.”
“Noted.” She nods. “I’ll just close my eyes and let these little fingers land on something. How fun does that sound?” she asks, full of mischief before leaving me to head to the table to put her song in.
Next thing I know, Lily is swaying her hips into mine from my side with a drunk smile on her face. “I love watching you have the time of your life, babe.”
She continues dancing next to me, my smile matching hers.
I’m so glad she convinced me to come out tonight. I wasn’t sure if I was going to come after having dinner last week withGriffin. It’s not that I didn’t enjoy myself, it was because the tension I felt walking back to my place followed me until I climbed into bed.
I hugged him goodbye.
My body moved on its own and I stayed there longer than I intended to. Only for him to return the hug and hold on as long as I did.
It made me want to look up into his eyes.
Beg him to kiss me.
I’ve replayed it in my head several times since while lying in bed.
Is that what I really want, though?
How have I gone from swearing off men and relationships, to wanting the angry cowboy next door to kiss me like his life depends on it? Wanting him to touch me in places I haven’t been touched in so long.
Out of the corner of my eye, my gaze lands on the weird man I saw at the General Store when I was buying my power washer. Once again, nerves swarm my gut because he’s got his eyes locked on me. Staring at me with such intensity that it almost knocks me off my feet.
