Page 12 of Risking it for the Cowboy

She traced the picture with a slender, gloved finger.

He inspected more closely in the muted red light, falling silent.

His eyes widened. “Are those … fossils?”

She glanced up at him, so close. She bit that lip again, this girl so uncertain, and nodded, then traced her finger over another one. “Ancient ammonite imprint…” Kept tracing. “Part of a trilobite…” She continued tracing, telling, showing, until her finger stopped on one more. “Ancient daisies.”

“Daisy?” He inspected her profile now. Eyed that shoulder where her tattoo was hidden.

“Where it all began.” She shrugged, gesturing around at the growing flowers.

“Naw, girl. You ain’t done now. You gotta give me more to go on.”

She laughed easily again, and damn, he loved that relaxed sound, after working so hard to coax song out of her and spiriting her into the night like lovers and not perfect strangers.

“I’ve lived here my whole life. My folks didn’t have much money, and my momma didn’t let me out much. I spent a lot of time in the fields behind our house when my momma wasn’t dolling me up and…” She cleared her throat.

“Wasn’t what—”

“Lots of wild blackfoot daisies grew in these fields, and I used to pick bouquets or weave wreaths and wear ’em like crowns playin’ make-believe. But then my second-grade class went on a field trip there, to the state park.” She tapped the pictures. “I was so excited. It was the first time I’d gone anywhere besides out west with my daddy in the summers to the oil fields to stay at my uncle’s cabin. I loved his cabin. This huge window, old fireplace. Felt like home in ways this place never will.”

He studied her, his lust subdued but his desire … fuck, it was ratcheting up, to understand why she’d felt so lost, because he knew what that was like. He knew.

“The uncle who taught you how to pick?”

She smiled warmly, nodding. “Uncle Johnny, like a big teddy bear with a big ol’ beard … anyway, the park ranger showed us these—” She pointed at the fossils. “And it just … blew my mind, that somethin’ so old, so pretty, could still be blooming today, all over our back pastures, and that even though I’d been lonely playing out there, I’d found them. I didn’t think much of it until years later, when I learned hard and fast that music wasn’t gonna be my savior, and maybe I was better off—” She laughed, clearing her throat.

And he knew right then. She still loved music. She was just spooked.

“Ha, dramatic much … sorry. I’ve, uh, never said that before.” She slid her book back onto the cart, a nervous tremor to her words. “The greenhouse is controlled to maintain the project’s integrity and protect it from cross contamination with native species and potentially disrupt the ecosystem and—”

He touched her chin, turning her back to him. “What did save you, then?”

Because he sure as hell wanted to know if it would save him, too. Music hadn’t been his savior, either, and yet, he would forever be entangled with this drive to chase the dream, thanks to his grandma feeding his insatiable desire for it. Even if his band never made another penny, he’d never be able to quit music. “When you felt so lost, you wanted to give up trying? What saved you, Flower Girl?”

Her eyes misted as she frantically blinked to clear them. He’d struck a chord.

“Daisy,” she finally whispered.

“You love these, don’t you?”

She nodded. “They’re my favorite flower. They’re pretty and sweet. And resilient. They don’t make a fool of me.”

His pulse spiked protectively. Because in this moment, he knew. Music had. And maybe that was why she’d refused his first attempts to lure her on stage. I’m done chasing boys in bands.

No. Music hadn’t made a fool of her. A guy had.

Don’t get in too deep. Don’t ask. Girls like her don’t want a guy like you.

“It’s silly, I know,” she continued, eyes fluttering downcast, and yet, every pulse in his body was urging him to do the wrong thing.

Take something as simple as, will you join my band? and make it messy and complicated.

“Come ’ere.” He pulled her to him, the two of them in hairnets and sterile jumpsuits and gloves like a futuristic dating show. “It ain’t silly. I think it’s beautiful. You poured yourself into this, and look at what you’ve accomplished.”

Her gaze snapped up as he looked reverently upon her heart-shaped cheeks, reaching out to drag a latex finger down them. Her eyes glistening. Aw, damn, he’d made her cry. He nestled her to his pectorals, draping his arms around her shoulders.

“Didn’t mean to make you emotional.”