The Last Cowboy Standing. Barbara Dunlop

can’t be a ballerina?” Travis spoke right over her, annoyance in his tone. “That Seth should give up being mayor? That Mandy can’t be in Chicago with Caleb? Or that Abigail should force Zach to sell his brewery?”

      Danielle definitely saw his point. It didn’t make it fair, but she understood how he must feel.

      “We’re the fifth generation,” he told her.

      “That’s a lot on your shoulders.”

      “They’re broad shoulders.”

      Her gaze strayed. “Yes, they are.”

      “You won’t say anything to Caleb.”

      “And mess with your self-righteous sense of nobility?”

      “I’m not self-righteous.”

      She gazed up into his eyes. He was taller when her feet were bare. Taller, stronger, magnificent.

      “You are noble,” she whispered, finding herself shifting closer to him.

      “I’m practical.”

      “You operate on instinct,” she reminded him, tilting her chin, moistening her lips, wondering if she could possibly be more obvious.

      “I do,” he breathed.

      “So, instinctively...”

      His hands bracketed her hips, easing her against him. “Instinctively, I want to kiss you.”

      She smiled.

      “But I’ve had that particular instinct for a long time now, and I’m not sure I should trust it.”

      “You should trust it.”

      His hands moved to her face, cradling it gently in his palms. “What about my other instincts?”

      “You have other instincts?”

      “To toss you down on the grass and ravish you in the moonlight.”

      Want and need instantly cascaded through her, weakening her knees and robbing her of her breath. She wished it didn’t sound so tempting. There were a million complicated reasons to keep her distance from Travis, even if her own desires were screaming at her to ignore them.

      She came up on her toes to meet him. “Let’s take it one instinct at a time.”

      “Yes, ma’am.” His lips came down on hers, warm and firm, fueled with purpose and expectation.

      One arm went around her waist, the other bracing the back of her head. She dropped her sandals and clung to his shoulders. Then she ran her hands through his hair, pressing her body against his, parting her lips and inviting the sweep of his tongue.

      His kiss deepened, and she clung tighter, letting the sweep of arousal and desire flood through her. Leaves clattered above them. A blue glow surrounded them. The grass was cool on her feet, while Travis’s hot palm moved its way down her cheek, to her neck, to the bare shoulder revealed by her dress.