Slow Burn Cowboy(83)

But she was currently a dancing monkey for all of Copper Ridge, so performance art was the order of the evening.

She also suddenly felt self-conscious about her wardrobe choice. Wearing this outfit for Chase hadn’t seemed bad at all. Wearing it in front of everyone was a little much.

The jukebox was blaring, and Luke Bryan was demanding all the country girls shake it for him, so Anna figured—regardless of how comfortable she was feeling—it was as good a time as any for them to get out on the dance floor.

The music was fast, so people weren’t touching. They were just sort of, well, shaking it near each other.

She was just standing there, looking at him and not shaking it, because she didn’t know what to do next. It felt weird to be here in front of everyone in a skirt. It felt weird to be dancing with Chase. It felt weird to not touch him. But it would be weirder to touch him.

Hell if she knew what she was doing here.

Then he reached out, brushing his fingers down her arm. That touch, that connection, rooted her to the earth. To the moment. To him. Suddenly, it didn’t matter so much what other people around them were doing. She moved in slightly, and he put his hand on her hip.

Then, before she was ready, the song ended, slowing things down. And now she really didn’t know what to do. It seemed that Chase did, though. He wrapped his arm around her waist, drawing her in close, taking hold of her hand with his free one.

Her heart was pounding hard. And she was pretty sure her face was bright red. She looked up at Chase, his expression unreadable. He was not bright red. Of course he wasn’t. Because even if this relationship was new for him, this kind of situation was not. He knew how to handle women. He knew how to handle sex feelings. Meanwhile, she was completely unsure of what to do. Like a buoy floating out in the middle of the ocean, just bobbing there on her own.

Her breathing got shorter, harder. Matching her heartbeat. She couldn’t just dance with him like this. She needed to not be in front of people when she felt these things. She felt like her arousal was written all over her skin. Well, it was. She was blushing like a beacon. She could probably guide ships in from the sea.

She looked at Chase’s face again. There was no way to tell what he was thinking. His dark gaze was shielded by the dim lighting, his jaw set, hard, his mouth in a firm line. That brief moment of connection that she’d felt was gone now. He was touching her still, but she had no idea what he was feeling.

She looked over to her left and noticed that people were staring. Of course they were. She and Chase were dancing and that was different. And, of course, a great many of the stares were coming from women. Women who probably felt like they should be in her position. Like she didn’t belong there.

And they could all see how much she wanted it. That she wanted him more than he wanted her. That she was the one who was completely and totally out of control. Needing him so much she couldn’t even hide it.

And they all knew she didn’t deserve it.

She pulled away from him, looking around, breathing hard. “I think... I just need a break.”

She crossed the room and went back to their table, grabbing her purse and making her way over to the bar.

Chase joined her only a few moments later. “What’s up?”

She shook her head. “Nothing.”

“We were dancing, and then you freaked out.”

“I don’t like everybody watching us.”

“That’s the point, though.”

That simple statement stabbed her straight through the heart. “Yeah. I know.” That was the problem. He was so conscious of why they were doing this. This whole thing. And she could so easily forget. Could so easily let down all the walls and shields that she had put in place to protect her heart. And just let herself want.

She hated that. Hated craving things she couldn’t have. Affection she could never hope to earn.

Her mother had left. And no amount of wishing that she would come back, no amount of crying over that lost love, would do anything to fix it. No amount of hoping her father would drop that crusty exterior and give her a hug when she needed it would make it happen. So she just didn’t want. Or at least, she never let people see how much she wanted.

“I know,” she said, her tone a little bit stiffer than she would like.

She was bombing out here. Failing completely at remaining cool, calm and unaffected. She was standing here in public, hemorrhaging needs all over the place.

“What’s wrong?”

“I need a drink.”

“Why don’t we leave?”

She blinked. “Just...leave?”

“If you aren’t having fun, then there’s no point. Let’s go.”

“Where are we going?”

He grabbed her hand and started to lead her through the bar. “Somewhere fun.”

She followed him out into the night, laughing helplessly when they climbed into the truck. “People are going to talk. That was all a little weird.”

“Let them talk. They need something to do.”

He started the engine and backed out of the parking lot, turning sharply and heading down the road, out of town.

“Where are we going?”

“Somewhere I bet you’ve never been.”

“You don’t know my life, Chase McCormack. You don’t know where I’ve been.”

“I do know your life, Anna Brown.”

She gritted her teeth, because, of course, he did. She said nothing as they continued to drive up the road. And still said nothing when he turned onto a dirt road that forked into a narrower dirt road as it went up the mountain.

“What are we doing?” she asked again.

Just then, they came to a flat, clear area. She couldn’t see anything; there were no lights except for the headlights on the truck, illuminating nothing but the side of another mountain, thick with evergreens.

“I want to make out with you. This is where you go do that.”

“We’re adults,” she said, ignoring the giddy fluttering in her stomach. “We have our own bedrooms. And beds. We don’t need to go make out in a car.”

“Need is not the operative word here. We’re expanding experiences and stuff.” He flicked the radio on, country music filling the cab of the truck. “Actually, I think before we make out—” he opened the driver’s-side door “—we should dance.”

Now there was nobody here. Which meant there was no excuse. Actually, this made her a lot more emotional. She did not like that. She didn’t like the superpower that Chase seemed to have of reaching down inside of her, past all the defenses, and grabbing hold of tender, emotional things.

But she wasn’t going to refuse, either.

It was dark out here. At least there was that.

Before she had a chance to move, Chase was at her side of the truck, opening her door. He extended his hand. “Dance with me?”

She was having a strange out-of-body experience. She wasn’t sure who this woman was, up in the woods with only a gorgeous man for company. A man who wanted to dance with her. A man who wanted to make out with her.

She unbuckled, accepting his offered hand and popping out of the truck. He spun her over to the front of the vehicle, the headlights serving as spotlights as the music played over the radio. “I’m kind of a crappy dancer,” he said, pulling her in close.

“You don’t seem like a crappy dancer to me.”

“How many men have you danced with?”

She laughed. “Um, counting now?”

“Yeah.”

“One.”

He chuckled, his breath fanning over her cheekbone. So intimate to share the air with him like this. Shocking. “Well, then, you don’t have much to compare it to.”

“I guess not. But I don’t think I would compare either way.”

“Oh, yeah? Why is that?”

“You’re in a league of your own, Chase McCormack, don’t you know?”

“Hmm. I have heard that a time or two. When teachers told me I was a unique sort of devil, sent there to make their lives miserable. Or all the times I used to get into it with my old man.”

“Well, you did raise a lot of hell.”

“Yeah. I did. I continue to raise hell, in some fashion. But I need people to see a different side of me,” he said, drawing her even tighter up against him. “I need for them to see that Sam and I can handle our business. That we can make the McCormack name big again.”

“Can you?” she asked, tilting her head up, her lips brushing his chin. The stubble there was prickly, masculine. Irresistible. So she bit him. Just lightly. Scraping her teeth over his skin.

He gripped her hair, pulling her head back. The sudden rush of danger in the movements sending a shot of adrenaline through her blood. This was so strange. Being in his arms and feeling like she was home. Like he was everything comforting and familiar. A warm blanket, a hot chocolate and a musical she’d seen a hundred times.

Then things would shift, and he would become something else entirely. A stranger. Sex, sin and all the things she’d never taken the time to explore. She liked that, too.

She was starting to get addicted to both.

“Oh, I can handle myself just fine,” he said, his tone hard.

“Can you handle me?” she asked.

He slid his hand down to cup her ass, his eyes never leaving hers as they swayed to the music. “I can handle you. However you want it.”