Home on the Ranch: Texas Wedding
He was walking her way, dangerously handsome in his tuxedo, a crooked grin on his face. The closer he got, the harder it was to breathe. The look on his face, heat simmering in his gaze, was impossible to ignore. Or misread.
I can think of worse things than being overwhelmingly attracted to the mother of my child. His words replayed, over and over.
It was hot. Very hot. And her stomach was in the midst of a series of spins and dives that made it impossible to stay seated. Not if the women were going to keep teasing. And he was closing in on her. Besides, if she continued to sit here, he’d join them. There was no way she’d be able to hide what she was feeling. They’d take one look at her and know it.
She was up and moving toward him before she had time to think things through. And once she was inches away from him, her senses were flooded with things like his scent and his warmth and...him. “Ash.” Apparently, that was all she could muster.
“Renata.” His voice was gruff and low.
Try again. “You...look nice in a tux.”
“Thank you.” He swallowed. “You look hot.”
His serious expression had her laughing.
She liked it when he was looking at her mouth like that. Like he wanted to kiss her. The way he was looking at her right now. It would be better if they weren’t surrounded by Stonewall Crossing’s finest.
“Clara said you were feeling poorly again?”
“Your fault.” She shrugged.
His eyes widened and his knock-the-air-from-her-lungs grin spread. “Guilty.” He didn’t sound the least bit bad about it. He looked a little too...pleased with himself, actually. “Up for a dance?” He held his hand out.
Bad idea. “Are my feet in any danger?” His hand was warm around hers.
“I promise to make it up to you later.” The matter-of-fact delivery almost kept her bones from melting. Almost.
“Ash,” she whispered, willing her body to behave—with no success. Glancing around them confirmed her fears. People were staring. Smiling, but staring. And talking. People like Winnie Santos and Lola Stephens. Her stomach dropped.
Say no. Dancing with him? A colossal mistake. But No, thank you or Have a nice evening or Good night wouldn’t come out and, somehow, they ended up on the dance floor.
“Stop looking at me like that.” She pleaded, far too aware of the man holding her close.
“Like what?” He frowned. “You just have a dirty mind, Miss Boone.”
Her mouth dropped open and she was laughing again.
“You’re beautiful, Renata.” It was a whisper. His hand rested at the base of her spine. Big. Strong. Warm. “And sexy as hell.”
He was playing with her. And loving every minute of it. The problem was—so was she.
* * *
Ash was sweating. Nervous.
He could do this. He liked having Renata in his arms. He liked how easy the banter was between them. And the gleam in her eyes when she looked at him? He definitely liked that. All it took was one look, and anticipation was pumping through his veins—for this woman.
This c
ould work. This, they, could be good. But she had to give them a chance.
Teddy’s reluctant blessing—and warning—still rang in his ears.
My daughter deserves a man’s love and loyalty. Anything less is intolerable. He’d cleared his throat, his blue eyes sharp. You understand me, son?
Yes, sir. He’d forced the words out, feeling like a fraud.
Having this... It will mean... She’ll know you have my blessing. This was her mother’s. It’s special. Teddy’s voice had wavered as he’s handed over the filigree ruby ring. Like my daughter.