Fight For Her (More Than A Cowboy 1)

“Girls? Like the ones inside?”

I could only nod.

He leaned forward, eyed me closely. “I want you…to come to my game. Not as a date, because I imagine if I asked you out right now you might bolt. As I said, I don’t want you scared of me.”

When I opened my mouth once again to speak, he put a finger over my lips. The touch was warm and gentle and I could do nothing more than feel the tingle of it all the way to my toes… and other places.

“Or nervous. Trust me, Emory, when I ask you out, you’ll know it.”

He’d said when, not if.

“I just want to see you again.” He lowered his hand.

“I thought you weren't trying to pick me up,” I argued.

“This—” He waggled a finger between us. “—is different. This isn't a pick up. Those girls, those are pick ups. You…” He let the rest of the sentence drop. While I was still processing as to why, he continued. “Think of it as a coincidence, both of us being at Rifkin Park at the same time.”

I eyed him, doubting his sincerity. “You really—”

He cut me off with one simple word. “Yes.”

Those butterflies, bees, no, hornets were back in my stomach. He wanted me to show up, otherwise he wouldn’t have offered. He was leaving the decision to do so completely up to me, clearly aware of how nervous I was. Once again, he was setting me at ease in the hopes I’d show up. I had until Sunday morning to decide what I wanted to do. From the ridiculously brief time he knew me, he’d learned I had to make a weighted, safe choice.

While we’d been talking, the sun had set completely. Besides little white lights strung along the railing, the only light illuminating us was from the bar. Gray’s face was in harsh contrast, his gaze darker and more intent. He looked like a guy you wouldn’t want to meet in a dark alley, but I felt…safe with him. I hadn’t had to pretend or fake a conversation, it just happened, even sticking my foot in my mouth. He’d set me at ease and it turned out we had a lot in common. I also found him hot as hell.

“No need to be nervous then,” I replied, poking fun at myself.

“Nope.” He smiled warmly, easily.

His gaze dipped to my mouth and I had to wonder if he wanted to kiss me. I kind of wanted to kiss him, too. My heart raced at the idea. I hadn't had the interest in kissing a guy in a long time and I had to admit it was a little scary. Fast and scary. Not Gray himself. He seemed patient and comfortable. I didn't dare tell him that. No guy wanted to be thought of as comfortable.

“I…I should get going. It was nice meeting you, Gray, but I’m meeting my group to row at five-thirty.”

I stood, although the legs of my chair didn’t scrape against the concrete. He stood as well and I had to tilt my head back to look at him.

“I don’t want you walking to your car by yourself, so let me walk you.”

“Thank you. I would take you up on the offer, truly, but I valeted it.”

He laughed easily. “Of course, you did.”

I looked up at him through my lashes and realized he wasn’t poking fun, but he was definitely amused by me.

“Good night,” I murmured, walking past him.

His hand on my bare arm had me pausing, my breath catching. The touch was gentle, his skin warm and rough with callouses, yet it was like a shock to the system. “

I hope to see you on Sunday, Emory.” His voice was quiet, almost intimate.

I gave a little nod, but didn’t look up at him, my skin where he touched tingled all the way down to my car.

CHAPTER TWO

GRAY

I'd fucked up. That’s all I could think about as I pushed hard through a five-mile run and began my usual thirty-minute stint with the jump rope. Click. Click. Click. The sound of the plastic striking the gym mat was almost lulling and I fell into my groove, my muscles warm from the run.

Breathe in, breathe out.