Bouquets and Buckles: An Age Gap, Snowed In, Cowboy Romance (Crimson Ridge)
Bouquets and Buckles: Chapter 9

I didn’t really know what to expect walking back into the kitchen. Maybe to be offering Skylar some dinner, or to have a discussion about whatever had upset her earlier, or to make fucking small talk about the fact we’re going to be stuck here together on my ranch until the snow melts.

You know, to be filling the role of Brad’s father that I’ve been for as long as I’ve known her.

What I didn’t expect was to replace her perched on my dining table, looking like a goddamn wet dream.

Well, fuck.

The sight I’d been steeling myself for while pacing upstairs comes into sharp focus as I walk into the soft glow thrown across the room by the overhead lights. My kitchen has turned into an illicit stage show, where there used to be innocent hanging pendant lighting, it’s now become a warm spotlight caressing her every curve—highlighting the fact I can see straight through her shirt.

It stops me in my tracks, and I have to scrub a hand over my face. There’s no way to disguise my reaction, this girl is so fucking gorgeous, and there’s only one reason she’s perched herself like that.

Her skirt is short, hugging her thighs, barely covering her from the waist down, and it takes everything to not look at the spot where the material ends and her tights disappear beneath the hem.

But looking up in the direction of her face is no better because this girl’s tits are enough to break me. The way they’re wrapped up and perfectly presented… she was obviously dressing for someone tonight, and I’m guessing it’s whichever jerk off left her crying and stranded on the side of the road.

“Skylar, what are you doing?” My voice is scratchy. I know exactly what she’s doing, but my brain cannot process what my eyes are seeing. A part of me says that I should tell her to get down from there and should show her where the leftovers are so she can reheat something.

On one hand, the sensible, boring, fatherly part of me attempts to be good.

Then, there’s the other guy.

He’s the asshole who is beyond tempted to see whether this girl might enjoy a bit of fun. Who is desperate for a taste of the young woman he’s been stuck with un-fatherly thoughts about for the past year.

“You wanted a drink, didn’t you?” She bites down on her lower lip and offers me a glass.

Like a magnet, I’m drawn forward. Slowly crossing the last remaining space separating us and stopping just in front of her knees.

“A drink, yes. But this…” I nod at the seductive little perch she’s seated on. “This isn’t just a drink, is it?” As I take the glass from her, our knuckles brush, and that innocent point of contact feels fucking electrified.

“Do you want it to be just a drink, Luke?” She flutters heavy eyelashes my way and leans back on her palms.

Goddamn, I want to hear how my name sounds on her lips when she’s moaning for me and begging to come.

“That’s all it should be, and you know it.” My throat bobs a heavy swallow.

“What if we didn’t know each other? Let’s say I’d never been here. We’d never met before. We’re just two adults who happen to be snowed in together. Would there be any shoulds or should nots between us then?”

Christ, if the conditions outside weren’t a total whiteout, I should be excusing myself to go down to the barn, cool the fuck off, and busy my hands with the horses or shit like that. Instead, I’m locked in this illicit bubble and can’t replace it within myself to step away.

“I don’t know. It’s hard to say when you’ve obviously had other plans for Christmas based on that outfit you’ve got on.”

Pausing to take a sip of whiskey, I let my eyes hold her baby blues.

Something wavers in her energy. “It’s ok. I can go change. We can hang out if that’s all you want.” The way she says those words, it’s like she’s already preparing herself for rejection, and I hate that this girl immediately assumes she wouldn’t be wanted when it’s only my own hang ups and bullshit stopping me from putting my hands all over her.

“Skylar…” I run a hand through my hair and blow out a low exhale. “Just give me a second to get my head around this situation.”

That brings the sparkle back to her eyes, and the sight makes my pulse thud even harder. How am I even fucking considering this? But equally, I don’t know how I couldn’t. Not when it comes to a girl as incredible as her.

“So, that’s a no to getting changed?” Her teeth sink back into that plump lower lip, and all I want to do is tug on it. Better yet, I want to see those pink lips around my cock. Jesus, there’s no guarantee this girl wants anything other than a bit of flirtation and attention, and here I am already imagining putting her on her knees.

“No.” I let my gaze roam across her figure now. Relishing the way she shudders slightly, enjoying this long moment as I sip my whiskey and drink my fill of her at the same time. Allowing myself the act of properly appreciating such a sight. “You look way too fucking gorgeous for my sanity. Whoever all of this was meant for tonight—because I know it wasn’t me—they’re an idiot and don’t deserve you.”

Her lips twist into a way too cute and way too irresistible curve. “I’m glad someone got to appreciate it, at least.”

She still looks hesitant, but any kind of smile on her, no matter how tiny, is sexy as hell.

“Trust me, I’m more than appreciative.” I tip back another sip of my drink and swallow heavily. Unable to take my eyes off her. “Even though I shouldn’t be.”

I soak up the way her pupils blow out, and her lips hang a little parted. That small graze of our fingers might have felt electric before, but now it feels as though the air in my kitchen is crackling like a midwinter bonfire.

“Skylar…” I don’t want to fucking say anything to disrupt this moment we’re sprinting toward, but I’d be the world’s worst father if I didn’t.

“I know.” She nibbles on that bottom lip.

“What if he replaces out? What then?”

“What if he didn’t need to know?”

“But I’ll know, and that’s entirely the issue.” I scratch my beard.

“Couldn’t we both pretend? Since it’s just this once…”

She thinks I only want her this one time. I should only want that, but there’s a whole minefield of complications that come with admitting out loud how I really feel. That when it comes to this girl, I’ve had a lot of time to think about what I would do if I ever had the opportunity to have her.

None of which involved a fucking one time only situation.

However, she’s right. As I take a long draw of my drink, mulling over what to say next, the writing is already on the wall.

“That snow isn’t going to clear for a couple of days.” My throat bobs, swallowing down the part of me demanding I replace a way to stretch whatever this is beyond something as simple as being snowed in together. “Probably a good idea if it doesn’t go any further than that.”

“I think that’s for the best.”

“If we do this… we stick to the boundaries. As soon as this has to stop, it stops. Your friendship is more important and I’d fucking hate myself if…”

“You don’t have to explain.” Skylar dips her chin. “We’re adults, right? We can play by some rules.”

Oh, there are a whole lot of fucking games I’d like to play with this girl.

“Then, in that case.” I tilt my glass at her. “Until the snow clears.”

“Until the snow clears.” Her sweet voice echoes mine.

Those bright blue eyes glint at me and my entire world slides sideways with the act of agreeing to this, even though there is no way in hell I should even be entertaining the idea.

“Thank you… for being so kind to me tonight.” She breathes. “You’ve always made me feel so welcome here… you’ve always been a good friend.”

That makes a gritty noise come out of me, and I place my glass down on the counter.

“Let’s make one thing real clear, right fucking now.” Leaning both hands on either side of her hips leaves me looming over her, so close I’m immediately wrapped up in her floral scent. “I don’t want to be your friend, Skylar.”