“And so, since your father is a cowboy you’ve sworn them all off? I'm trying to piece it together here, Laura.”
I nod. “Exactly. That's why I don't want anything to do with cowboys who can’t stay in one place, always moving from one ranch to the next, getting in trouble.”
“Your uncle Leroy isn't like that.”
"He's a ranch owner," I say, "it's different. He's not wandering around. He's put down his own roots. Not like the cowboys who live in the bunkhouse. Like my dad, who would just go float from one place to another, forgetting he even had a little girl.”
Cole frowns. “I feel like that's kind of simplistic. You're judging all cowboys based on one man.”
"That's true," I say, "I drew this line in the sand and it's probably pretty childish, now that I think about it, because you're not like my father, you’re..."
"What?" Cole asks.
I lean close to him, wanting to give myself over to the things I'm scared to experience with a real man like him. “I guess it's not fair to write off all cowboys. There are some good ones. Like you or your friend Luke.”
Cole chuckles. He runs a hand over my cheek. “I'm nothing like Luke.”
“You don't have wild oats to sow?”
Cole shakes his head, drawing my face to his. “I don't have any wild oats at all. I'm solid, true-blue, salt of the earth, Laura Callaway. Thing is, I'm also a cowboy, so if that's your deal breaker, then I guess I'm going to be broke.”
My whole heart pounds as I give in to what I really want.
I press my lips against Cole’s, feeling his heat and his warmth, his tender need. The kiss is soft and gentle. The first one I've ever had. As my lips begin to part, I panic.
I pull back. "Sorry," I say, "I shouldn't have done that."
"Why not?" he asks. "That seemed like it was something you wanted."
“I know, but…” I shake my head. “We should leave. I bet the dance is starting soon.”
“But we didn't even finish the cherry pie. We only had one bite.”
But I'm scared of what I know might happen. If I let go of my bias, Cole will carry me away in one fell swoop. "You can have the rest later," I tell him. "You won it after all."
His eyes, though, look bruised. "Just like that, back to being friends?" he asks me.
I lick my lips, my fear of the unknown getting in the way of my present. “Maybe we can figure out what we are at the dance.”
7
COLE
Her kiss was everything I dreamed it might be.
If I wasn’t sure before, I'm downright certain now.
Laura is the one for me. But as we pull up to the dance, a big old part of me does wish that the night was different.
I'm happy to be with Laura but she said she wanted to be my friend and then kissed me and then pulled away. I feel like I'm getting whiplash with this girl.
We walk into the barn and everyone I know from the ranch and town is here. There's a table with beverages. There's a pink cake and red and white streamers hung up around the rafters. There are outdoor lights hanging on nails and there's a bluegrass band in the corner.
"Is it always like this?" I ask Laura. I want to reach out and hold her hand but it's just our knuckles brushing. Getting what I really want seems like it might be out of my reach.
Laura looks over at me, though, and smiles, her hand finding its way into mine. "It's always like this, but for some reason, this year it feels different."
"How so?" I ask her as we move to the dance floor. The band changes their song and suddenly the up-tempo beat that was playing turns into something smooth, soft, made for a slow dance.
I set my hand on her waist and take her hand in my other.
"I guess the difference would be you, Cole," she says in a near whisper.
"Can I be honest with you?" I ask as we dance away from Luke and Rachel, who are busy taking selfies on the barn floor.
My eyes are only on her, even though so many people we both know surround us.
"You can tell me anything," she says.
"Sure. I can tell you anything. It doesn't mean you're going to like it."
"It's all right. Try me," she says.
"I just feel like there's a bit of a tug-of-war going on. One minute you're distant. The next you reach out for my hand. You pull away. You give me a kiss. Laura," I say, my breath on her ear, "you're making it hard for me to read you."
Her body is pressed against my chest and we move slowly around the floor and I don't want to be dancing at all. What I really want is to be alone with her.