Page 15 of Wrangling Wade

"Wade, I…"

His lips come down on mine in a hard kiss, silencing me. "You can freak out about it and try to convince yourself that it can't happen later, Harlow. But itisgoing to happen," he growls. "I'm not going anywhere." His tongue flicks my bottom lip, a softgroan rumbling in his chest. "So you're going to have to get used to that idea for me."

"I thought cowboys took orders, not gave them," I grumble, scowling at him…mostly because if I don't, I'm going to wrap my hands all up in his shirt and drag his mouth back to mine.

His whole body vibrates with laughter. "This cowboy does both, baby." He nips my bottom lip, then groans again. "I want to kiss you so fuckingly bad right now."

"M-maybe you should."

Heat and triumph flare in his eyes in equal measure before his hand slips to the back of my head, cradling it. His lips touch mine again, his kiss soft. "Open for me, beautiful. Let me have a taste," he breathes.

I obey instantly, instinctively, because I think I might actually combust if I don't.

His breath—mint and a hint of coffee—washes across my face, and then he's kissing me. Really kissing me. I'm not sure if my feet actually leave the ground or if it just feels like they do, but I sink into him, my heart thudding erratically.

He groans against my lips, his tongue stroking mine until I'm dizzy with the taste of him, the feel of him, theheatof his body against mine. God. I never knew kissing could feel like this or that I could be wanted like this.

"Wade," I whisper.

He breaks the kiss with a groan, resting his forehead against mine. His breath is unsteady, his body trembling faintly. "Harlow. Sweet, sweet Harlow," he whispers. "I can't wait until you're ready for me, beautiful." His lips brush my crown. "But I'll be patient for you. Swear, I will."

He's wrecking me a little bit, without even meaning to do it. Maybe that's why I decide to stop fighting whatever this is. To stop thinking I don't deserve it, that he's out of my league, that I'm too much of a mess to be prepared for a man like him. I don'tknow exactly why all the tension, worry, and anxiety melt away…but they do.

I surrender to whatever this is, to wherever we're headed.

"Don't you dare break my heart," I say, my voice a scrap of sound.

He dips his head, his brown eyes somber when they meet mine. "Wouldn't dream of it, baby."

I nod, certain he means it. And then I slowly untangle myself from his arms, smiling a little when I see the smudge of paint on his cheek. There's another smeared across his shirt. "Um…you've got paint all over you."

He glances down at himself and then shrugs like it's no big deal. "I'll survive. You going to come with me willingly, or am I kidnapping you for the rest of the day?"

I hesitate, glancing down at myself. "Can I finish my painting first?"

"How long do you need?"

"Ten, fifteen minutes?" I bite my lips. "Well, then I need to shower and change, so an hour?"

He just grins at me, shaking his head. "Take all the time you need, beautiful. I'll wait for you."

When I emerge fromthe shower, I find him on the back porch, standing in front of my painting, studying it intently. I hover behind him, a little nervous. Every artist cares what people think, at least a little bit. But I think I care what he thinks more than usual. Especially since the painting is of him.

"Why this moment?" he asks, as if he knows I'm there.

"Um…" I step up beside him, not entirely sure I know how to answer that question. "I guess because I liked the dichotomy," I say after a moment. "You sprawled there like you don't have a care in the world while Danny's all pissed off. It says a lot about who each of you are, I think."

"Yeah?" He glances back at me. "And what does it say?"

"Just that he's not a good guy, but the same probably isn't true about you." I shrug. "You weren't mad about being soaked with water. You knew you deserved it and were able to laugh about it. He was pissed because he's the kind of guy who thinks everything is someone else's fault."

Wade's lips curve into a grin. "You've got him nailed dead to rights, Harlow. Palmer never has known how to take responsibility."

"Didn't think so." I smooth my hands down my sides. "I'm ready to go."

He turns fully to face me, his gaze drifting down my body. I don't really own anything fancy, but I put on my best skirt and a pretty green blouse. I think I chose well, because he's looking at me like he wants to eat me again.

"You look stunning," he murmurs after a moment, reaching for my hand.