The M.D.'s Unexpected Family. Cindy Kirk

shifted side to side before pitching radically forward, nearly sending him toppling. But he held on and—remembering Cassidy’s words—did his best to relax and stay loose.

      His heart pounded. Sweat dotted his brow. Adrenaline zipped like a lightning bolt through his veins. Tim heard himself whoop like Cassidy had only minutes before. Holding tight to the reins with one hand, the other sliced the air.

      “Ride ’em, cowboy,” Cassidy called out.

      He grinned as another hard lurch nearly sent him toppling. But he didn’t panic—panicking wasn’t in his nature—and stayed loose.

      It felt as if he’d just gotten into the groove when the bull slowed then stopped. Even before Tim’s feet were back on solid ground, he was shocked to find himself wishing the ride had lasted longer.

      The thought had barely crossed his mind when Cassidy let out a squeal and flung her arms around his neck. The momentum of her body slamming against his sent him staggering back. Quickly regaining his footing, he swung her around.

      When they stopped twirling, he kept his arms around her, his gaze on her laughing face. Mesmerized by Cassidy’s luscious hot-pink lips, eyes that almost looked violet in the dim light and the intoxicating, sultry scent of her perfume, he couldn’t bring himself to look away.

      Seriously tempted to kiss her right then and there, Tim didn’t know what to think when she stepped back, grabbed his hand and tugged him straight through the doors of the saloon.

      While perplexed, he couldn’t help but feel that leaving was a good thing. When she’d first gotten off the bull, he’d noticed how many of the men stared as if she was a piece of meat and they hadn’t eaten in a week. No, Tim had zero qualms about leaving the bar.

      Finally pausing once they reached the boardwalk, Cassidy grinned up at him. “That was a blast. I had so much fun.”

      Was? Had? Immediately picking up on the change in tense, Tim fought a surge of disappointment and forced a light tone. “Are you telling me the date is over?”

      For a second she simply stared. Then she wagged a finger at him, blue eyes laughing and a little too bright. “You’re not getting off that easy, Doctor. I have an entire night of debauchery planned. Trust me, we’re just getting started.”

      * * *

      A stagecoach ride couldn’t by any stretch of the imagination be considered debauchery. Still, Cassidy had always wanted to check out this Old West Days attraction and this “date” with Tim seemed the perfect opportunity.

      “Last year the girls begged me to take them on a stagecoach ride,” Tim informed Cassidy as the old-fashioned coach, painted in vivid shades of red and green, creaked its way through town with them inside. “But the line was so long we gave up and got cotton candy instead.”

      Cotton candy.

      Cassidy smiled. Something else on her list for tonight. “The rainbow kind is my favorite.”

      “Then I shall buy you some.” His gentlemanly tone reminded her of the guys in the old movies Cassidy watched when she had trouble falling asleep.

      She loved this teasing, relaxed side of Tim. Since his wife died, he’d seemed so somber.

      One of her goals tonight was to show him how much fun life could be, if you didn’t take it—or yourself—too seriously. By the smile on his lips, her plan appeared to be bearing fruit.

      Cassidy relaxed against the back of the tufted leather seat, wishing Tim would loosen up even more and put an arm around her shoulders. She could picture the scene now. Picture herself resting her head against his broad chest, playing with the buttons on his shirt—

      Without warning, the stagecoach jerked, propelling Cassidy forward. With the lightning-fast reflexes of a former high school wide receiver, Tim pulled her against his chest as if she was a ball sent his way in a Hail Mary.

      “What happened?” She knew her slightly breathless delivery had little to do with the sudden jolt and everything to do with the thrill of having his arms finally around her.

      “I’d say we hit a buffalo. Or a rut.” He chuckled. “One of the perils of traveling down a dirt road to add authenticity to the ride.”

      “Oh.” Cassidy expelled a shaky breath but didn’t move a muscle, afraid if she did he might release her. And that she couldn’t abide. Not when she was finally right where she wanted to be.

      “You’re okay.” His tone was soft and soothing, his hand stroking her arm in a gesture that was obviously meant to be reassuring.

      Obviously he’d concluded her labored breathing was due to nearly planting her face in the rustic floorboards. The truth was, his nearness, his arms around her, was stoking the fire that had burned in her belly since he’d arrived at her apartment door.

      After a moment, he shifted uncomfortably.

      Cassidy lifted her gaze and found him staring. From the predatory gleam, she wasn’t the only one experiencing the effects of the closeness. Slowly, with her eyes firmly fixed on his face, she moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue.

      The deliberate action was calculated to draw his attention to her mouth, a mouth that yearned for a long, slow taste of his lips.

      By the flash of heat in his eyes, the ploy worked. The web of attraction that had been hovering dropped and tightened around them, shutting out the world.

      Though the road had turned smooth as a baby’s backside, instead of releasing her, Tim tightened his hold. Which was just fine with her.

      Cassidy reveled in the closeness and the spicy scent of his cologne. Her entire body tingled with anticipation.

      Tim leaned close and cupped her face gently in one large palm. The lips she wanted so desperately on hers were only a breath away.

      Placing her hand flat against his chest, Cassidy smiled up at him. She prayed he’d see in her eyes she wanted this as much as he did, maybe more.

      Without warning, the stagecoach shuddered to a stop. The unexpected movement jerked them back against the seat. Seconds later, the door swung open and sounds of exited chatter from a group of waiting passengers filled the small interior compartment.

      “End of the line, folks,” the round-faced driver called out, his deep voice at odds with the boyish face.

      Tim muttered something under his breath and released her.

      The driver held out his hand to Cassidy but his apologetic smile was directed at both of them. “Sorry about the bump earlier. Have to admit I didn’t see the rut until I’d hit it. Anyway, I hope you folks enjoyed the ride.”

      “Loved it.” Cassidy flashed the man a brilliant smile then glanced back at Tim. “I wish it had lasted a little longer, though. I wasn’t quite ready for it to end.”

      * * *

      Street dances had never appealed to Caro. Tim had thought his wife’s objections made a lot of sense: intoxicated people who didn’t know the first thing about how to properly dance making fools of themselves. Consequently, during their marriage, they’d never once come down to West Deloney during Old West Days.

      Yet, here Tim stood on this last weekend in May gyrating with Cassidy and hundreds of strangers. The scene in this section of downtown Jackson bore a distinct resemblance to Times Square on New Year’s Eve. Music blasted from a popular regional band who’d taken the stage in front of the local theater. There was vitality and electricity in the air that Tim found contagious.

      He couldn’t believe the number of people he knew—and the number Cassidy knew—who stopped to bump and grind beside them before moving on. After a particularly fine rock classic that got everyone’s blood pumping, Tim concluded he’d definitely been missing something all these years.

      Granted, this was a far different atmosphere than a dance at the Spring Gulch Country Club with fine