Chapter Fifty-Seven

Briggs

Make it last.

Those are the only words racing through my mind as I release the throttle, and we ease down the driveway. We rode for over an hour until the sun had set, and I felt her arms go lax around me. All day I’ve counted her breaths, weighed her expression looking for something, but I wasn’t sure what. When I steer us back into the barn and cut the engine, she keeps her arms around my waist, and I cover her chilled hands with my own to warm them.

I’m not sure what to expect, but it’s definitely not the reaction she gives as she dismounts the bike, pulling off her helmet, her eyes alight with a fire I’ve only managed to witness a few times. Running her fingers through her untamed hair, she tosses her head back and practically howls. “That was fucking amazing!”

Her excitement fills the barn as I take her in, easy laughter ripping from my chest. “Like that, did you?”

She leans in toward me as if she’s got a secret. “Oh. My. God. Briggs! I can’t even explain what that felt like.” She places both hands on her chest where her heart lays.

“Like running?”

“Yes! But more.” Her wild gaze darts around the barn as she searches for words for a feeling she doesn’t have to explain because I’m right there with her. “It was perfect.”

I sit back on the seat as she bounces around on the balls of her feet with boundless energy. A cowbell accompanied by a familiar beat filters through the barn and an idea springs to mind. Leaning over toward the workbench, I crank up the volume as “Honky Tonk Women” by The Rolling Stones filters in the air between us.

She nods in approval. “Good one.”

“Glad you agree. Show me whatcha got.”

She rears her head back. “’Scuse me?”

“Don’t play dumb, Scottie.”

“Are you nuts? I’m not dancing for you.”

“Oh, yes, you are. Do that dance you told me about.”

“Cumbia? Hell no, this isn’t even the right beat. That’s a one, two, three dance, and it’s a bit slower.”

“You owe me,” I drawl.

“Oh, now we’re in favor mode? You taught me how to ride a horse, not cure cancer.” She puts her hands on the curves of her hips, puffing her chest out as I stare on in expectation.

“Either you dance, or I dance, and I promise you that will embarrass you more.”

“Don’t have any moves, cowboy?” She taunts.

“This song isn’t long enough for you to be boxing my balls, Scottie.”

“Jesus.” She shuts her eyes tightly as her hips start to sway a little. She bursts out with nervous laughter, and I know in this moment I will never love another human being the way I love her.

“Dance for me,” I beckon as she opens her eyes, her smile dying as she reads my plea.

“Lord, you could talk a nun into joining a sex club. You’re too damn pretty for your own good.”

That earns her a chuckle.

“Fine, but this is for you, Mullins,” she declares before she shimmies a little. Sitting back on my bike, my grin grows wide when she begins to dip her hips, swaying from side to side, pivoting on the quick heel she taps behind her before switching to the other side. Boot clad, she twists in front of me, back and forth, all arms and hips, stumbling a little on her count before she throws everything into it and blows. My. Fucking. Mind.

Tossing her shoulders back, she finally meets my watchful gaze as she moves toward me in a confident strut that has my dick at attention in seconds. Her subtle smile is still there, but it’s in her eyes that I see the shift from rolling waves to tide, and I get swept away. In them, for the first time since I kissed her in that hotel room months ago, is what I’ve been searching for—permission.